San Diego

Well, will you look at that? I'm in San Diego!

Admittedly, I have been for a few weeks. I'll be transferring in a little over a week, actually. But someone suggested that I should make a few notes about life here.

For starters, one must recall that I spent the last year and more in Great Lakes. Widely held to be the single most stressful Naval base on the planet. And then transferred...to San Diego. For atmosphere, this feels like I went from The Green Mile to Sesame Street.

It is BEAUTIFUL here. I live in a three-story apartment building that appears to be carved out of tofu. There are palm trees everywhere, and these great purple flowers and ferns in the courtyard. Growing up in the Midwest, I'm internally confused by the weather; I'm accustomed to adjusting for the changes as part of the challenge and flavor of Today.

The weather doesn't change. There have, admittedly, been two overcast days in the time that I've been here, and then the temperature dropped to 65. But, every day, it is sunny, partly cloudy, sunny, 70 degrees, with a constant gentle sea breeze coming in from the harbor. It has the little inner me confuzzled. "HOW can it do that? How can it be the same every day? How does it keep from changing??"

School is a sight less stressful than A School. Actually, this could very well be the easiest assignment I will have in my entire time in the Navy. My instructor is pretty much the male equivalent of where I'd like to be in life in six years. I find this very encouraging, because it feels like most of my friends back home are getting settled at about my age, and I know I won't be settling for some time.

There is SO much to do in San Diego. I have

Gone to Sea World (free once/year to military. Penguins. Arctic everything. Dolphins, dolphins, orcas are so cool. Penguins. Pen-ga-wins. Penguins. Bring sunscreen.)
Spent a day at Mission Beach with friends (tasty ice cream, worst fish tacos I've ever had, the Pacific throws me around much more than the Atlantic, go to the bathroom BEFORE you find yourself half a mile out on a rock jetty barefoot with the tide coming in, and apply sunscreen WAY more often than I think I need to - I got a second-degree sunburn that day).
Spent the next two days incapacitated by said sunscreen. Learning a lot about ways to deal with sunscreen. Somehow, I forgot that SoCal is closer to the sun than, say, Chicago.
Found a Zumba class. I am in the minority here, not because I am female, but because I am a) active duty, b) under 30, and c) Caucasian. I am seriously the ONLY white girl in this class. This is cool.
Found a fun pool class. With a fun, cute lifeguard.
Went to Old Town, found an amazing pizza place.
Went to the San Diego Zoo. Always free to military. Pandas, giraffes, flamingos, a random peacock, elephants, lions, jaguars, snakes, cheetahs, new guinea singing dogs, bears bears bears, takins...for starters. We spent the entire day there, and only saw half of it. We will be returning this Saturday. Note to me - LOT of walking (because we have no interest in taking the helpful express bus that runs around the park), hydrate like crazy.

I had the option for getting my SCUBA cert, but it's not going to happen before I leave. Kinda bummed about that - it's a cool thing to have, and can open up a few random doors in the Navy. Hoping I get the chance later - San Diego seemed the ideal place for it.

We found a very loud pizza place downtown. Terrible for socializing, but the food's fantastic. I give you the following: Italian style crust, olive oil, garlic, parmesan, mozzarella. Chicken bacon gorgonzola. YUM. Learned after it arrived that the ingredients I thought I'd chosen at random were in fact what my friend used to make macaroni & cheese when he was younger. Cool.

I have a very cool roommate. By this I mean that she's nice, we get along, we stay out of each other's space, and there are no battles about cleaning or food. Realized only NOW that, of the five roommates I've had since getting free of Boot Camp, at least 4 of them have been smokers. Odd trend, because from what I've seen, less than 15% of the people in our barracks were smokers.

The one downside to this place is that it induces you to sleep - and eat - a LOT. I get to class, and I'm hungry at 0900. I get out of class, and the first thing I want to do is take a 2-hour nap. I don't have early mornings - 0600 is the perfect time to wake up in my world (Great Lakes, it was 0500 every morning - not pleased), and I get to have the morning the way I like it - shower, breakfast, devos, out the door.

I really can't get over San Diego. Being stationed in San Diego. There's so MUCH to do here. I have a list that might...MIGHT...peter out two weeks before Halloween, if I didn't find anything else to add to it. If I was here a week longer, I'd be able to do the SCUBA thing. Month longer, safari park, and...and...And hit the museums. And kayak at La Jolla. And go wine-tasting in Temecula. And go up to Carlsbad with my roommate and see the caverns. And go spend a weekend with my buddy's family and see Disneyland. And Magic Mountain. And...okay, Tijuana's sort of roped off to us military folk, forget that. And hike Three Sisters. A lot. There's Just So Much!!

So, I'm having fun here. :)

Transfer

And now I'm in San Diego.

So, after getting pretty well taken in by some humanist heresy last week, I'm marinating my brain in Romans. This helps. A lot. I may just do this for the rest of the year.

Oh, yeah. In case anyone cares, I have some traditions with my Bible reading, and some big blocks of, "Hey let's study something." Advent, I spend with a purpose. Last year it was memorizing Luke 2:1-20*. I then go on from there to do all four gospels between Christmas and Easter, and start Acts right after Easter. And, when I can, I do the chapter-a-day thing from Proverbs (which is great for life-advice, but doesn't really mention Jesus all that much). But somehow, I'd gotten thrown off the path a bit.

So, yeah. Romans. SLOW Romans. And I definitely needed this.

In other news, I'm working on packing. Recent events that one has heard about in the news mean that necessary measures must be taken where I live, which doesn't change much about my day-to-day living, but does mean that no one can drive on base if they don't work here. This puts a small snarl in the next part of my plan (go God for that - I realize this REALLY wasn't about me, but He seems to have this thing for reminding me that, no, I cannot in fact see every possible eventuality and prepare for it. That's why I rely on HIM.), as I was planning on getting my stuff to a vehicle just outside. My friend and I may be schlepping it the mile to the gate. Sigh.

This is where I get mocked by the Soldiers and Marines.

Another area of discipline has presented itself - my Kindle of which I am so fond allows me easy access to Amazon, when I have wireless, and easy download without that pesky shopping cart that shows a final total before purchase. I currently have 2 cents in my checking account. This is not how I anticipated going into this move. All right, so I also wasn't expecting my taxes to be so much this year, and I definitely wasn't anticipating the government's financial tie-up. I do HAVE a savings buffer for just this reason...but after those two, it's not much. I am learning.

This summer will entail multiple transitions. May alone will entail much transition. But, if God's cool with it, by the end of summer I will have completed the next phase of my educational training (the ones after can be done from the ship), joined my ship, and be off on deployment. This will be the first year that I won't be with my family for Christmas. I know there are a lot of other considerations, but that's the one that gets me. Christmas is kind of a biggie with me. And I know it's only May, but with everything that's gone into the last few months, it feels as if the holidays should be coming up again.

In good news, I have WONDERFUL friends here., and I only wish I'd gotten to know them sooner. Sunday, we went for a walk to the next community over and had lunch at a Cuban/French restaurant, and went to Walgreens. I realize this doesn't sound like much, but on base, you always know exactly what's available in the grocery store. It never changes. There are seven kinds of cereal. Seeing a box of Honey Comb was a gasp of freedom.

It is a bright and lovely day outside, and I finished H.G. Wells "Time Machine" today. This was once described to me as a very dark book - it might say something sad about me that I found it only cynical. I do agree with the premise that without challenge, we would lose skills and intelligence that no longer served us, but I disagree with the author that we'll ever reach a point of existing without adversity. This is not me being hopeless - I still think we should work to overcome everything that currently faces us, but part of that rationale is that I believe MORE is yet coming.

I AM getting cynical. Well, perhaps a balance, since I think we're capable of overcoming a fair amount of the illnesses and social imbalance that presently exist. Natural disasters, I got nothin'. I think we can get better at predicting them, and thus preparing for them, but keeping them from happening? Nah.

Also, I think Man's got to keep from getting too big for his britches, and retain some sense of awe in the face of something too great to be controlled.

I may have a chance to get some laundry done, and I found a Rascal Flatts album that had gotten stuck in some random corner of my laptop. So, that's all good.

And tonight, I may sleep again.



*This year, I might do something with the prophecies about Christ in Isaiah, which would be a cool study project. Or, I might have all Scripture driven out of my mind by the amount of new stuff I have to learn on deployment, and just get to do Luke again.

If You Were Wondering...

In the event that anyone's unclear on this, I am in fact planning to lose my mind.

It's a survival mechanism, here. You become absolutely fantastic about parroting back information. You study leadership, electronics, naval history, military history, how to work out better without hurting yourself, how to eat properly when you've got limited variety in your grub, and on the side, perhaps a bit of fun literature just to work the kinks out of your brain. Sort of like going for an easy run after spending nine hours at the gym.

In addition to this, I try to find time to grab a bit of Scripture, and possibly a well-known Christian author that simply everyone is reading. Basic maintenance, you understand.

My responsibility is to take what I've read, be able to repeat it, and be able to put it into action. Very frequently, very quickly, and invention does me no favors here. We are training OUT of original thought. Original thought is wrong, it's how we make mistakes, we're not doing it right.

Now, this is not to say that servicemembers are stupid. If we were, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't make it. This environment is demanding to say the least, and I'm still only in my first school. The simple fact is that we're adaptable. We have to be. If the way to survive in this environment is to stuff in scads of information and regurgitate it rapid-fire, we'll learn that.

But prior to my enlisting, I had a theory about human nature, and it is what allows me to do this. I hold that, left to its own devices, as long as one is still alive and everything is relatively intact, the mind and the body can heal. Always. From anything. The extent of damage may take a very long time to heal in some cases, perhaps more time than any person has left in life, but there will still be change. This is my problem with suicide, really - that if a person had just waited, at some point, life would get better. The mind would get better, once removed from the nasty situation.

So I collect beauty. I'm not sure why, exactly, but there's something about beauty that heals the mind. Tonight I spent an hour listening to my sister's friend play acoustic guitar on his youtube videos. Not that his voice is remarkably lovely, but acoustic is quietly so. And it tells me that somewhere out there, there's a young man who has TIME to play his guitar. I haven't had time to play my saxophone in months. Now and again I find an unattended piano and can run over some well-rehearsed melodies, but that's rare. But somewhere is a person who isn't running for food, or shelter, or dashing to compete against other people who are just as deserving as he is for one isolated position that might elevate him to a higher level of responsibility in hopes of catching the eye of the leader who might get him a few points towards his next rank. Someone's free, somewhere back home.

And that's what I think about. I don't want to ditch my responsibilities. I want to serve, to do what I said I would, and do it well. And when it comes to after this, I talk about my plans for college, and work, and what else I hope to accomplish. But when I think on my own time about getting out, I'm reminded of a scene from Spitfire Grill, because all of my fantasies are just having some time alone in the woods, on the hills, sitting in the grass or the dirt, and just breathing. Just eyes closed, hearing the woods around me. Coming back to that same place for days, where I'm not imposing on it, and the world can forget I'm there. And hopefully, with enough time, I can forget I'm there, forget about me and where I hurt, and what I need to be doing, and just listen.

And then in time, a long time later, I might be okay around my sister's friend, and she might ask him to play guitar (because I think I'm going to be a very quiet person for a very long time), and I'll sit, and listen to the notes spill from the frets, and something else will unlock from between my shoulders, and more will seep away.

And after a long time, I might trust someone to go hiking the North Shore with me, when I'm not hiding the tension, but I can let it seep out of me, to be caught up by the wind off the lake and flung up into the clouds.

And someday, someday, I will laugh for sheer exuberance, the way I used to, when I suddenly take off running. And I'll be free.

I'm not PTSD. I haven't seen combat, and it's greater than a 99% probability that I never will. I'm not dealing with anything more than any other person on this base, likely. And I still have yet to hit the job I'm actually training for. But my sister worries sometimes, that her sister is getting lost. And I wanted to let you know that in some ways, I kind of am, but I'm on a long leash back to myself. I knew a little about this before I came in. And I'm going to be okay again.

People Who Should Not Summarize Shakespeare = Me.

One of my managers has informed me that I'll rot my brain from reading too much. He may be right, because today I read Shakespeare's "Venus and Adonis," and came away unimpressed.

Mostly with Venus.

A: *riding boldly through the fields*
V: "Oh la! A pretty boy!"
A: *takes no notice of goddess*
V: *flies to A's lap, twining her arms around his neck* "Won't you be my pretty boy?"
A: Away from me, woman! I have better things to do!
V: *pout*

V: *flings A from saddle, pins him to the ground* "Won't you be my pretty boy?"
A: "No. You're being a tart."
V: "Kiss me!"
A: "No! I belong to the god of war!"
V: "Kiss me! Kiss me!"
A: "No!"

At this point, the riderless horse observes a pretty mare off in the woods, and chases after her.

A: *leaping quickly to his feet* "------, woman! You made me lose my horse!"
V: "You should follow your horse's example. Kiss me!"
A: "No."
V: "Kiss me!"
A: "No."
V: "Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!"
A: "Okay."

V: "This was fun! I love you! Can we do this again tomorrow night?"
A: "Can't. Going boar-hunting with the boys."
V: "A boar! Boars are so dangerous. You should hunt rabbits."
A: "I like boars."
V: "But you're so beautiful! And I love you! The boar won't see how beautiful you are."

Adonis extricates himself, goes off to meet his friends. Venus, no joke, spends the entire night weeping (very loudly) and singing to echoes.

Later that same day, she hears the sounds of the hunt.

V: "The beautiful boy is dead! Curse you, Death! You should not take pretty people!"

She hears his voice, calling to his dogs.

V: "Oh! He's not dead! Hail, Death, King of Graves, who is discerning for which people deserve to live!"

She finds him fallen and slain.

V: "What is this? He can't be dead! All the world loves him for his beauty - the birds, the wolves, the tigers - even the boar did not fight him, no, it tried to kiss him, it did! It was not the boar's fault that it had such sharp tusks!"

She throws herself on his body, mixing her tears with his blood. Adonis' body vaporizes into a flower. Venus picks the flower and tucks it in her shirt, flying away.

V: "Since I, the goddess of love, have so suffered in love, all mankind shall suffer whenever they love, and he that loves most will suffer most!"


Okay, I like Shakespeare, to be honest. But Venus' lack of modesty pretty much turned me off to her from about the sixth line, and it didn't get any better. Beautiful descriptions, but I've apparently been spoiled by Jane Austen on the notion that the hero and leading lady are going to have worthwhile personality traits. I realize this makes me rather unenlightened.

In OTHER news, a skeptic friend and I are wrestling with the veracity of the Bible. This is not the first time that this has happened, but it just occurred to me - if I was REALLY living as a Christian, like, you could see it as soon as you looked at me, would I keep finding myself in this situation? There's a repeating trend of one of my dear friends deciding that we need to be together, but 90% if the time it's a guy who believes in God and family values, but doesn't believe in the Bible. Is this what I look like and therefore attract all the time, or is that just 90% of the male population?

Bought and Leaving

I can be bought, it seems.

And I got orders.

The first, because it's more of a lighthearted thing. I have mentioned that, being in the military, I am up to my ears in males. And it's not that most of them have anything wrong with them. Some do. But for the most part, they're good. I'm just not at all interested in dating when we all know how transient life on this base is.

I play for keeps, one might say.

But this doesn't really stop the invitations. One of them, though, got smart. Figured out something I'm interested in. Figured out that he has something along that line that he was kind of done with anyways. I asked him how much he wanted for it*. He said if I got dinner on Saturday, we'd call it good.

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmmm.

I really, really want this. I could take it with me to sea, and play with it on my laptop. And this arrangement costs me at least $200 than it would if I bought it myself. And I don't dislike him - I just don't really know him that well.

Hmmmm.

I'm trying to figure out if this is unethical.

*This is very common on this base. Probably most bases. People will buy stuff for life-comfort here that they can't or don't want to bring with them on a ship. So, they end up selling it for half-price or less to someone who's going to be here longer than they are.

In other news, I...got...orders. I can't quite get my brain around this. I'm sloooowly becoming accustomed to the notion that I've advanced in rank. But...orders? Me?

Y'have to understand, on this base, ETs are here forever. Two running jokes for us are, "The Fleet is a myth," and "retiring from Great Lakes!" It isn't actually forever - most people are out of here in less than two years, and our contracts all have a two-year extension built in for just this purpose. But in contrast with every other rate that trains at this base, it definitely feels like we're growing roots here.

And I...I have orders? I'd already accepted that I was going to be here for...wow. A long time. I'd made plans for Halloween in Chicago. I'd asked my younger sister if she'd join me for Sonshine, an epic four-day Christian music festival that takes place in MN every summer. In the back of my mind, I was tooling around the concept of another Christmas standdown from this base.

They're good orders, too. Hard work, but hard play too, by reputation. So, the next five years might age me fast, but I'm going to have a lot of fun getting old.

I'm still a bit stunned, but what I WILL say is - it's not shore duty, and it's not overseas. Both of which would have been fun, I'll grant. But I think this will be fun, too.

I just can't quite believe that I'm actually getting out of here.

Odd Exchange

Walking back tonight. I will not be drinking for St. Patrick's for various reasons - one of the ones further down the list is that there is one bar I like on base, and I am predicting that it will be packed. I am coming back from a post-rehearsal Bible study, about twenty-five minutes from my barracks, with the remainder of some snacks.

Nearly to my barracks, another guy is crossing the street in the opposite direction, muttering.

G: "Bad. That's bad."
F: (thinking he's referring to some sort of barracks-junk) "What's bad?"
G: "You. You shouldn't be walking back alone after dark."
F: *little bit of a smile*
G: *continuing on past me, turning* "Haven't you heard about the **** that's been going down lately*?"

*No, in fact, I hadn't. The last time I heard about a girl on base getting attacked walking back after dark was in September - and the young lady in question had been a former boxer.

F: *amused*"Well, if anybody tries anything, I can just sock 'em with my bag of bread."
G: *moving on* "Good. Good. You should do that. Hit 'em hard."
F: *confidently*"Can do."

Usually, when I have conversations like that, they're coming from the bar to the barracks, not the other way around. But, Happy St. Patrick's Day.


(Let it be noted that when I AM concerned for my safety, I grab one of my male buddies to walk me back. I have done this before, but my spidey-sense wasn't tingling that night. At the point of this conversation, I was about a block from my barracks.)