Does anyone know a polite way to express, "I'm sorry, I have no idea what changed, but you're driving me crazy, and I just don't want to be around you anymore?"
I was thinking a week off would do it, but I am apparently mistaken. He's just way too happy about ME, and it feels like he's trying to make this a dating relationship without me noticing.
Firefly doesn't DO ambiguity. At least, on my end. Apparently I cause it in almost everyone else's lives. But I'm not sure how to handle this one without burning the bridge to the ground.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
A Very Happy Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving, then!
This was a wonderful interlude. I brought my friend David along - his family is in California, and visiting them over the break wouldn't work out, but I felt that unnecessarily spending Thanksgiving on base was stupid. Since my house is within 300 miles of base, and since he works for the chapel, his paperwork for this only needed a week to process (unlike the rest of us, who needed about a month's advance notice).
We rented a car for this. There's a Hertz on base, and I've used them before for the occasional duty-free weekend. I tend to get compact cars, as it's usually just me traveling and they tend to charge significantly less for them. David is a foot taller than me, but his mom assured him that he would indeed fit in a compact car. We figured that if he had to lay down for the whole trip, that is indeed a "fit", but it actually worked out fine. Make and model were another story. They gave us a powder-blue Nissan versa. Girliest thing I've ever seen that wasn't parked next to a Barbie's Dream House. Eh, whatever. The heat works, the headlights work, the brakes work, and the music works. These are the major concerns for us.
My sisters had arrived the night before, in time to see my parents' show. The week or so prior to this happy holiday, we'd been thinking of it with no small amount of excitement and trepidation. All three girls were planning to bring a male associate (mine the only one not holding some sort of romantic status), Mom and Dad's show opened that weekend*, and the first really good (or bad) winter storm was kicking up for right around that time.
*If you don't have anyone in your family who does theater, let me explain: The week before opening night is called tech week. Your significant other/family member/best friend actually vanishes off the face of the earth during this time, and when you do see them (awake), they usually have wild eyes and their hair's out of control as they feverishly mutter lines to themselves.** It's great fun.
** My Mom is much more refined. I can't actually see her doing this. I've just seen all my friends and both my sisters doing this. Great fun. Bring them food, set it down, and back away slowly. You'll see them again opening night, and they should be back to themselves at the afterparty.***
***I have one friend who doesn't just act or play, he also directs. He's a case from about a month before the show to a week after the run is done, and randomly disappears for weeks at a time. You just sort of take it in stride.
My Mom does Norman Rockwell-style Thanksgiving meal. I love this. There is turkey. There is in-the-bird stuffing, and stovetop stuffing. There are probably five different kinds of potatoes and squash that have been mashed, candied, and/or baked. There is green bean casserole (a personal favorite of my sister's - I by contrast tend to devour the mashed potatoes). And there is pie. Lovely, lovely pie. Blueberry, and pumpkin, and apple - and it's all made with you in mind. (This is a difference you can taste. The galley food NEVER has this.) So good. So so good.
One of the boys couldn't make it, thanks to the impending doom that the weather heralded, but it was nonetheless a splendid time. Traditionally, we tend to go around the table and each talk about something we're thankful for this year, but we only made it as far as me and David. I had said something about the Navy, or the tests that I've made it through, and that sparked interest, and then David and I took turns fielding questions from everyone else for what seemed to make up a lot of the rest of dinnertime. Oops.
But AFTER dinner, it was game time. Not the football game, no. My family's big on speed scrabble. Mom was elsewhere at the time, otherwise she would have decimated us - my Mom is brilliant with wordplay. The boys were playing for the first time - speed scrabble is based on evaluating very quickly what you have and what you can make out of it, and doesn't use the board, so it's a little something to get used to.
Taboo's another favorite - David and I were on the same team, which was fortunate because about half of what comes out of my brain now is Navy-related, and no one else would have understood. This was followed by Pictionary - I'm not sure why, but I am spectacularly awful at Pictionary. It's not that I can't draw; it's that I can't communicate through drawing. Elizabeth's the only person who ever seems to be able to guess what I'm thinking, and she was paired with John. It was a lot of fun, though.
There's a statement that you learn more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation. And I've also found that one of the swiftest ways that I grow closer to a person is to laugh with them. And these are both events in which my family excels.
It was so very good to be home.
This was a wonderful interlude. I brought my friend David along - his family is in California, and visiting them over the break wouldn't work out, but I felt that unnecessarily spending Thanksgiving on base was stupid. Since my house is within 300 miles of base, and since he works for the chapel, his paperwork for this only needed a week to process (unlike the rest of us, who needed about a month's advance notice).
We rented a car for this. There's a Hertz on base, and I've used them before for the occasional duty-free weekend. I tend to get compact cars, as it's usually just me traveling and they tend to charge significantly less for them. David is a foot taller than me, but his mom assured him that he would indeed fit in a compact car. We figured that if he had to lay down for the whole trip, that is indeed a "fit", but it actually worked out fine. Make and model were another story. They gave us a powder-blue Nissan versa. Girliest thing I've ever seen that wasn't parked next to a Barbie's Dream House. Eh, whatever. The heat works, the headlights work, the brakes work, and the music works. These are the major concerns for us.
My sisters had arrived the night before, in time to see my parents' show. The week or so prior to this happy holiday, we'd been thinking of it with no small amount of excitement and trepidation. All three girls were planning to bring a male associate (mine the only one not holding some sort of romantic status), Mom and Dad's show opened that weekend*, and the first really good (or bad) winter storm was kicking up for right around that time.
*If you don't have anyone in your family who does theater, let me explain: The week before opening night is called tech week. Your significant other/family member/best friend actually vanishes off the face of the earth during this time, and when you do see them (awake), they usually have wild eyes and their hair's out of control as they feverishly mutter lines to themselves.** It's great fun.
** My Mom is much more refined. I can't actually see her doing this. I've just seen all my friends and both my sisters doing this. Great fun. Bring them food, set it down, and back away slowly. You'll see them again opening night, and they should be back to themselves at the afterparty.***
***I have one friend who doesn't just act or play, he also directs. He's a case from about a month before the show to a week after the run is done, and randomly disappears for weeks at a time. You just sort of take it in stride.
My Mom does Norman Rockwell-style Thanksgiving meal. I love this. There is turkey. There is in-the-bird stuffing, and stovetop stuffing. There are probably five different kinds of potatoes and squash that have been mashed, candied, and/or baked. There is green bean casserole (a personal favorite of my sister's - I by contrast tend to devour the mashed potatoes). And there is pie. Lovely, lovely pie. Blueberry, and pumpkin, and apple - and it's all made with you in mind. (This is a difference you can taste. The galley food NEVER has this.) So good. So so good.
One of the boys couldn't make it, thanks to the impending doom that the weather heralded, but it was nonetheless a splendid time. Traditionally, we tend to go around the table and each talk about something we're thankful for this year, but we only made it as far as me and David. I had said something about the Navy, or the tests that I've made it through, and that sparked interest, and then David and I took turns fielding questions from everyone else for what seemed to make up a lot of the rest of dinnertime. Oops.
But AFTER dinner, it was game time. Not the football game, no. My family's big on speed scrabble. Mom was elsewhere at the time, otherwise she would have decimated us - my Mom is brilliant with wordplay. The boys were playing for the first time - speed scrabble is based on evaluating very quickly what you have and what you can make out of it, and doesn't use the board, so it's a little something to get used to.
Taboo's another favorite - David and I were on the same team, which was fortunate because about half of what comes out of my brain now is Navy-related, and no one else would have understood. This was followed by Pictionary - I'm not sure why, but I am spectacularly awful at Pictionary. It's not that I can't draw; it's that I can't communicate through drawing. Elizabeth's the only person who ever seems to be able to guess what I'm thinking, and she was paired with John. It was a lot of fun, though.
There's a statement that you learn more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation. And I've also found that one of the swiftest ways that I grow closer to a person is to laugh with them. And these are both events in which my family excels.
It was so very good to be home.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
New Class
So, what happens when you get sick during "A" School?
Well, the wacky thing with my program is the amount of cramming it involves. In the interest of time, we end up covering what should be a week's worth of material every night. If I get the chance sometime, I will post a picture of what one of our tech pubs looks like - these are effectively our textbooks.
This means that if you get sick for a day, you end up missing a week's worth of material. You may be able to make this up, you'll just have to work your butt off for the next three days. If you get pneumonia, or something equally beastly, and miss six days, you'll receive what we call "I.I." - Interrupted Instruction - which means losing your class.
This was a point of confusion with some of my friends, so let me clarify. This does NOT mean the loss of my program. A new class of ETs starts roughly every two weeks. It means that my current class of 23 people is too far ahead for me to catch up, in the opinion and experience of the school's Leading Petty Officer, so I will be moved to a different class, with a later graduation date.
Wist and apprehension greet this notion. I like my class, we've had a lot of fun together, I know them, they know me, I have friends there. I have no idea about my new class, but I know most classes aren't exactly keen on newcomers.
I don't care diddly about the graduation date. This is because it's only changing by a few weeks. Winter in the Midwest is, in my opinion, exactly the same from December 28th through about the first week of March. Some activities are limited, some are available, and the sky doesn't do anything interesting. I'm not sure why, but this all comes together to mean that I am perfectly happy to be doing something productive and indoors during this time, and don't care if it finishes up at the end of January or the end of February. From my standing, it doesn't actually affect much.
I was happily surprised to find that a cheery acquaintance from my ATT class is one of the more leader-like people in my new A School class. The girl who sits next to me is also a treat; she announced to me, "We were talking about it, and we've decided we like you." Um, yay? I think yay.
There are the new bits to adjust to. Labor works out a little differently here than it did in my last class, the instructor looks for different things during a uniform inspection (leading to me nearly failing my first PI ever on day one), and they don't have a coffee mess*, but I think it'll be okay.
*Coffee mess is precisely what logic would have about coffee. You appoint one person to be in charge of getting supplies, whoever wants to have coffee during an 8-hour class that runs 'til midnight chips in on a weekly basis, and you keep a coffee pot in a fire-safe corner of the classroom.
The material we're working on right now, that's another matter entirely. *headbonk* Wish me luck.
Well, the wacky thing with my program is the amount of cramming it involves. In the interest of time, we end up covering what should be a week's worth of material every night. If I get the chance sometime, I will post a picture of what one of our tech pubs looks like - these are effectively our textbooks.
This means that if you get sick for a day, you end up missing a week's worth of material. You may be able to make this up, you'll just have to work your butt off for the next three days. If you get pneumonia, or something equally beastly, and miss six days, you'll receive what we call "I.I." - Interrupted Instruction - which means losing your class.
This was a point of confusion with some of my friends, so let me clarify. This does NOT mean the loss of my program. A new class of ETs starts roughly every two weeks. It means that my current class of 23 people is too far ahead for me to catch up, in the opinion and experience of the school's Leading Petty Officer, so I will be moved to a different class, with a later graduation date.
Wist and apprehension greet this notion. I like my class, we've had a lot of fun together, I know them, they know me, I have friends there. I have no idea about my new class, but I know most classes aren't exactly keen on newcomers.
I don't care diddly about the graduation date. This is because it's only changing by a few weeks. Winter in the Midwest is, in my opinion, exactly the same from December 28th through about the first week of March. Some activities are limited, some are available, and the sky doesn't do anything interesting. I'm not sure why, but this all comes together to mean that I am perfectly happy to be doing something productive and indoors during this time, and don't care if it finishes up at the end of January or the end of February. From my standing, it doesn't actually affect much.
I was happily surprised to find that a cheery acquaintance from my ATT class is one of the more leader-like people in my new A School class. The girl who sits next to me is also a treat; she announced to me, "We were talking about it, and we've decided we like you." Um, yay? I think yay.
There are the new bits to adjust to. Labor works out a little differently here than it did in my last class, the instructor looks for different things during a uniform inspection (leading to me nearly failing my first PI ever on day one), and they don't have a coffee mess*, but I think it'll be okay.
*Coffee mess is precisely what logic would have about coffee. You appoint one person to be in charge of getting supplies, whoever wants to have coffee during an 8-hour class that runs 'til midnight chips in on a weekly basis, and you keep a coffee pot in a fire-safe corner of the classroom.
The material we're working on right now, that's another matter entirely. *headbonk* Wish me luck.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Substitution
Part of the uniform upkeep for males is that they MUST be clean-shaven. Always. There are medical exceptions to this rule (there are probably medical exceptions to EVERY rule in the Navy), but if you're not one of them, you must keep it clean.
So, what's a manly man to do when No-Shave-November comes around, but daily inspections deny him the right to grow out a proper full-length fluffy beard?
Take the manliness a step further. No-Shower-November. Still shaving every day, spraying down with Axe, but not showering for a month.
I sincerely hope they cave soon.
So, what's a manly man to do when No-Shave-November comes around, but daily inspections deny him the right to grow out a proper full-length fluffy beard?
Take the manliness a step further. No-Shower-November. Still shaving every day, spraying down with Axe, but not showering for a month.
I sincerely hope they cave soon.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Closetful of Smiles
Friend notes my face as I come bouncing up to greet him. "Oh no."
Bewildered. "What?"
"What'd you break?"
Indignant, "I didn't break anything!"
"That's your 'I-broke-something' smile."
"Is not! This is my, 'I-want-something' smile." I am pleased by the distinction.
"Oh." Thinks this over. "Why does your 'I-want-something' smile look just like your 'I-broke-something' smile?"
"Um...'cause usually when I broke something I want you to not be mad at me about it?"
"Ah."
I didn't realize I did this, but he's right - I checked the mirror, and they are almost exactly the same expression.
Bewildered. "What?"
"What'd you break?"
Indignant, "I didn't break anything!"
"That's your 'I-broke-something' smile."
"Is not! This is my, 'I-want-something' smile." I am pleased by the distinction.
"Oh." Thinks this over. "Why does your 'I-want-something' smile look just like your 'I-broke-something' smile?"
"Um...'cause usually when I broke something I want you to not be mad at me about it?"
"Ah."
I didn't realize I did this, but he's right - I checked the mirror, and they are almost exactly the same expression.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
After Supper
There's something so lovely about long shadows on the grass.
And talking with my sister about her adventures.
And getting time to rest.
And early dark makes me think of Christmastime.
(Admittedly, most things do.)
And the private walk back after a meal
Lost in my big black hoodie
While the stars quietly make their presence known.
And talking with my sister about her adventures.
And getting time to rest.
And early dark makes me think of Christmastime.
(Admittedly, most things do.)
And the private walk back after a meal
Lost in my big black hoodie
While the stars quietly make their presence known.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
I am sick. This is why.
So, I've been beastly sick all week.
I have come to the thinking that, given current or only recently past events (whatever they were), my perspective on the past is skewed enough that I can't properly compare what was with what is. I can have a rough idea of what was, and I can live in what is, and I may have a glimmer of an idea of what will be, but that's about it. So, while I loosely recall labeling a period in Sheridan as, "The sickest I've ever been," and I remember thinking on Wednesday, "This is the sickest I've ever been," I honestly can't tell you which was worse, or if there were others in between those two. Fortunately, I am not especially bothered by this.
One of my roommates was honestly convinced that I was going to die Wednesday night. She threatened to kill me in the morning if I did so. I told her that she'd be justified, and I wouldn't even seek legal retribution if she did.
This started with the flu shot. Predictably enough, I got a little flu the weekend after said shot. But my body proceeded to turn that into a little pneumonia. The sleep schedule for night students is mildly heinous, but usually not all that wretched. We go to sleep somewhere between the hours of midnight and 0200, and we're expected to be awake somewhere between 0800 and 1000*. But it's fairly normal to have some little two- or three- hour project in the middle of that, around. Those days, you sleep for two or three hours, get up and get into whatever uniform is needed, take care of what needs to be done, change back into sweats, and exhaustedly return to your rack.
*It should be noted, this is actually a little nicer than the rest of the base has it - they're on the 2200-0500 schedule. Mind, outside noise is secured during that time. Night students just condition themselves to sleep through nearly everything but a knock at the door and their cell phone. Loud roommates are a curse to them that have them; mine by contrast are lovely.
You can survive off this. You can even get a fair amount of learning and work done off this. But you will be emotionally ragged after about four days of it. You start breaking down. And then you start breaking down physically. You can feel that it's happening, but there's not a whole lot you can do about it. I knew I was sick, that there was junk in my lungs, and it was just getting worse. This week, I was skipping everything else I had to do (bare bones schedule: sleep, shower, class, repeat) hoping to hold the system together until I could rest on the weekend. If I can...just...make it...to the weekend...
I didn't make it to the weekend.
Now, you're asking, why didn't you go to medical before this? Because I knew that if anybody with a stethoscope and a modicum of expertise got a listen to my lungs, they'd slap me a Sick In Quarters chit before I could blink. And while that SOUNDS nice, if I take a night off right now, I likely lose my class.
My program takes a 2.5 year electronics program and stuffs it into just under 5 months. The result is that we cover about a week's worth of material every night. A new class starts every other week, and for the most part stays together until graduation. If you missed a week of class and couldn't make it up, your school administration would probably bump you back to a later class, too. But it's hard to start in a new class. You don't know anybody, and unfortunately, they already don't like you.
It's not just your imagination. Unless your gpa is one of the top in the class, you get along well with people, and you're fairly attractive, we subconsciously resent anyone new coming in. Because this is hard, and we've been through a lot together, and who's this guy who thinks he can just ride on how far we've made it? It stinks, it's irrational, but it's there. This philosophy starts in Boot Camp - you band together when everything's against you, and regard anything from the outside with suspicion. When you're forced to let it in, you don't really let it in, don't trust it, for a long time
So you try very hard to stay with your band. I am not the first one in my class to get sick. There were a good five of us who had some nature of the bug, one of the guys had a worse cough than mine, but if we could rest up enough, and our bodies could fight it off, we'd make it through this and still be with the class, still be among friends.
But I'm also trained for taking orders. So the two hit a compromise on my stubborn side - if three people, one of them outranking me*, told me to go to medical, I would. Well...my buddy Adam was first. Then my big Army brother (it's not that I forget that he technically outranks me. It's that I forget he's a possible factor in adventures like this.) Then one of the girls in my class that I really look up to. Well, blast.
*There's a difference between outranking me and being in authority over me. Students at my school are everything from E-2 to E-6, but because we're all in student status, the only ones with any authority over me are my class leaders.
Mind you, that day, I'd been informed that I looked like a)hell (multiple variations on this theme), b) the living dead, c) grilled ****, and d)"Not Mumm-Ra, but one of his acolytes." (This last required some research. I am not a better person for the experience.) High fever, ridiculously high heart rate, massive chills, and I could barely stand up. Yes, I'm still going to class, why do you ask?
So I came home from class around 2000. Went to medical the next morning (because the only option the night before was the ER, and while my roommate disagreed, I didn't think I needed THAT). And now I'm SIQ. Sighhhh.
I have come to the thinking that, given current or only recently past events (whatever they were), my perspective on the past is skewed enough that I can't properly compare what was with what is. I can have a rough idea of what was, and I can live in what is, and I may have a glimmer of an idea of what will be, but that's about it. So, while I loosely recall labeling a period in Sheridan as, "The sickest I've ever been," and I remember thinking on Wednesday, "This is the sickest I've ever been," I honestly can't tell you which was worse, or if there were others in between those two. Fortunately, I am not especially bothered by this.
One of my roommates was honestly convinced that I was going to die Wednesday night. She threatened to kill me in the morning if I did so. I told her that she'd be justified, and I wouldn't even seek legal retribution if she did.
This started with the flu shot. Predictably enough, I got a little flu the weekend after said shot. But my body proceeded to turn that into a little pneumonia. The sleep schedule for night students is mildly heinous, but usually not all that wretched. We go to sleep somewhere between the hours of midnight and 0200, and we're expected to be awake somewhere between 0800 and 1000*. But it's fairly normal to have some little two- or three- hour project in the middle of that, around. Those days, you sleep for two or three hours, get up and get into whatever uniform is needed, take care of what needs to be done, change back into sweats, and exhaustedly return to your rack.
*It should be noted, this is actually a little nicer than the rest of the base has it - they're on the 2200-0500 schedule. Mind, outside noise is secured during that time. Night students just condition themselves to sleep through nearly everything but a knock at the door and their cell phone. Loud roommates are a curse to them that have them; mine by contrast are lovely.
You can survive off this. You can even get a fair amount of learning and work done off this. But you will be emotionally ragged after about four days of it. You start breaking down. And then you start breaking down physically. You can feel that it's happening, but there's not a whole lot you can do about it. I knew I was sick, that there was junk in my lungs, and it was just getting worse. This week, I was skipping everything else I had to do (bare bones schedule: sleep, shower, class, repeat) hoping to hold the system together until I could rest on the weekend. If I can...just...make it...to the weekend...
I didn't make it to the weekend.
Now, you're asking, why didn't you go to medical before this? Because I knew that if anybody with a stethoscope and a modicum of expertise got a listen to my lungs, they'd slap me a Sick In Quarters chit before I could blink. And while that SOUNDS nice, if I take a night off right now, I likely lose my class.
My program takes a 2.5 year electronics program and stuffs it into just under 5 months. The result is that we cover about a week's worth of material every night. A new class starts every other week, and for the most part stays together until graduation. If you missed a week of class and couldn't make it up, your school administration would probably bump you back to a later class, too. But it's hard to start in a new class. You don't know anybody, and unfortunately, they already don't like you.
It's not just your imagination. Unless your gpa is one of the top in the class, you get along well with people, and you're fairly attractive, we subconsciously resent anyone new coming in. Because this is hard, and we've been through a lot together, and who's this guy who thinks he can just ride on how far we've made it? It stinks, it's irrational, but it's there. This philosophy starts in Boot Camp - you band together when everything's against you, and regard anything from the outside with suspicion. When you're forced to let it in, you don't really let it in, don't trust it, for a long time
So you try very hard to stay with your band. I am not the first one in my class to get sick. There were a good five of us who had some nature of the bug, one of the guys had a worse cough than mine, but if we could rest up enough, and our bodies could fight it off, we'd make it through this and still be with the class, still be among friends.
But I'm also trained for taking orders. So the two hit a compromise on my stubborn side - if three people, one of them outranking me*, told me to go to medical, I would. Well...my buddy Adam was first. Then my big Army brother (it's not that I forget that he technically outranks me. It's that I forget he's a possible factor in adventures like this.) Then one of the girls in my class that I really look up to. Well, blast.
*There's a difference between outranking me and being in authority over me. Students at my school are everything from E-2 to E-6, but because we're all in student status, the only ones with any authority over me are my class leaders.
Mind you, that day, I'd been informed that I looked like a)hell (multiple variations on this theme), b) the living dead, c) grilled ****, and d)"Not Mumm-Ra, but one of his acolytes." (This last required some research. I am not a better person for the experience.) High fever, ridiculously high heart rate, massive chills, and I could barely stand up. Yes, I'm still going to class, why do you ask?
So I came home from class around 2000. Went to medical the next morning (because the only option the night before was the ER, and while my roommate disagreed, I didn't think I needed THAT). And now I'm SIQ. Sighhhh.
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