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.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
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.)
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.)
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Week of Averages
The issue here is that this week has involved some really great highs and some really bizarre lows, but by Saturday afternoon (about the only time I really have time anymore), it's all mentally averaged out into about the same level of the week before. This means that I feel as though I have nothing useful to share.
The suicide rate on this base is at an all-time high. I have to tell you, I cannot get my brain around that concept. I don't understand it. Not like, "I don't understand how this could happen," because I understand perfectly well how this could happen. Or at least, I can see it in action. It's more an issue of numbers, since this base will have been standing for a century come this summer. It's an empty statistic. What I CAN understand is that the suicide rate on this base is the highest it's been in ten years. Apparently, the same goes for the drug abuse (instant out from the Navy) and alcohol abuse (more negotiable out) rates.
People who come from other bases talk about coming on this base and feeling a darkness here, like an oily black cloud that hangs out around knee-height, or hovers between this place and the sun, so that you're never out from under it, you're always breathing it. So far, the weird part isn't who's affected, it's who's UNaffected. Those of us who still smile and have fun with life really stand out.
I'm wrapping up the last few requirements to get my crow this month. (This is the Navy nickname for the "perching eagle" (not to be confused with the spread eagle, that's a Captain) that Petty Officers wear. I've never seen it called a "perching eagle" anywhere outside of a textbook.) One of these is a three-day class by name of "Prevent." It's mostly about making decent decisions. The Navy's HUGE on fitness, but they're actually big on a "total fitness" thing - your finances, your relationships, your nutrition - we as students tend to focus quite a bit more on the physical fitness aspect, because it's about the only one that we're actually graded on.
Wacky-good thing, I ended up as the class leader for this. This is really a micro-chain-of-command, but it's still something that makes you stand out, even infinitesimally, from all the other digis. I often think we look like small flocks of birds in our NWUs. Over the next three days, learned that, by Navy standards, I am not in NEARLY as good physical shape as I'd thought, but I'm making better lifestyle choices than the vast majority of sailors, so...yay?
Well, sort of yay. I still have to pass my PRTs. These are every six months. The thing is, passing shouldn't be that difficult - it's sort of a minimum standard. But for this one, I was in Radar for all of January, cutting down any time that I might have given to regular PT. I'm beginning to suspect that I have a milder form of 'test-anxiety' (really, doesn't everyone have this?) but I'm never getting it diagnosed, because I apparently produce my best results when I'm freaking out about the prospect of failure.
If you're going to go through most of life as a Type "B" personality, you've got to have SOMETHING kick you in the pants when you need to actually produce results.
But, let there be much rejoicing, I did pass, and almost exactly in the range I usually train for. That was one of the particularly crazy days, when I left my barracks at 0630 and didn't get back 'til just before 2100, running from one responsibility to the next. It feels good, though - a little zany at times, but I LIKE being able to do more.
I've been apprenticing as the yeoman (secretary) for the chapel choir - I'm taking over in March. I also got invited to be on the student leadership for Connexion - it's sort of our base ministry. Still can't get a SNUFI job - my barracks wants more students in the "holds" section before they'll approve anyone taking other jobs during the day. But, hoping.
Everything I said about being here another 6-8 months? Yeah. Forget that. I COULD be here another 6-8 months. On the other hand, just learned at a brief on Friday that one of the guys from my class received his orders THIS week to transfer NEXT week. So, it's fairly up in the air.
I've had hot water for 6 out of 7 showers this week, so I'm pretty happy about that.
I may or may not have had my first heart attack on Thursday. Jury's still out. Symptoms were acting like it, but aside from the PRT-anxiety, there's been nothing that would explain it. 30s-friend thinks I did, Army-friend thinks it's possible, EMT-friend thinks I'm too young. I kind of agree with EMT-friend, but a surprising number of Pre-BUD/S get heart attacks during their training and don't realize it until a real doctor checks them out ten years later. I'm going to sick call on Monday - another piece of my current to-do list was a medical check anyway.
This afternoon, a friend and I are going to go see Tangled. Again. This is the 3rd or 4th time I've seen it since it came out. Rapunzel is my new favorite Disney princess. I'm delighted that the on-base theater keeps bringing this one back.
Plus, there are always kids in the audience when they show movies I really like. I don't get to interact with them, but just seeing them running around is great.
I may have found a church! Mama Mac invited about a half-dozen of the girls from Connexion to a women's retreat, and I liked the church well enough to go to their service later that night. It's about four miles away from base, so walking there'd be no issue in the afternoons, and I can catch a ride back to base after dark. (The church's neighborhood is lovely - my base's, not so much.) There's a bit of paperwork and pleading I'd have to do in order for my leadership to let me off base without a buddy, but if I'm going to church, they might be okay with it. I'm excited!
Honeycrisp apples are amazing.
My friend Stephanie and I watched A Little Princess again last Sunday. I don't think I'd seen it in the last ten years, but I remember watching it when we were little. So, so good. I needed to hear a lot of that, that all girls are princesses, because I'd stopped believing that I really had any value.
Stephanie's become my dearest friend on base, and she transferred yesterday. She's been making interesting plans to get me to Hawaii (where she's based) and to set me up with one of her or her fiance's male Christian friends at their wedding this fall. She's absolutely wonderful, and it's been great spending so much time with her, and I honestly can't picture being at Great Lakes for 8 months with no Stephanie. Just doesn't compute. Stephanie's ALWAYS been here.
(It should be noted, I have had other friends transfer before, and for the most part, you recognize the transient nature of everything here. Stephanie's like my on-base sister, though.)
Found a yoga class that I love. Forgot how much I love flexibility work - Navy teaches that you're supposed to be mixing up flexibility, strength, and cardio, and I've really just been loading up cardio from graduation to my PFA. (I am not a SEAL. They do not care how many chin-ups I can do. They just want to make sure I can run.) Schedule only permits being there one day a week, but one is infinitely better than none. :)
There've been other minor ups and downs, but, as stated, by the time Saturday afternoon comes around, everything has sort of settled and evened out. I'm content, happy, frustrated, and okay with that.
The suicide rate on this base is at an all-time high. I have to tell you, I cannot get my brain around that concept. I don't understand it. Not like, "I don't understand how this could happen," because I understand perfectly well how this could happen. Or at least, I can see it in action. It's more an issue of numbers, since this base will have been standing for a century come this summer. It's an empty statistic. What I CAN understand is that the suicide rate on this base is the highest it's been in ten years. Apparently, the same goes for the drug abuse (instant out from the Navy) and alcohol abuse (more negotiable out) rates.
People who come from other bases talk about coming on this base and feeling a darkness here, like an oily black cloud that hangs out around knee-height, or hovers between this place and the sun, so that you're never out from under it, you're always breathing it. So far, the weird part isn't who's affected, it's who's UNaffected. Those of us who still smile and have fun with life really stand out.
I'm wrapping up the last few requirements to get my crow this month. (This is the Navy nickname for the "perching eagle" (not to be confused with the spread eagle, that's a Captain) that Petty Officers wear. I've never seen it called a "perching eagle" anywhere outside of a textbook.) One of these is a three-day class by name of "Prevent." It's mostly about making decent decisions. The Navy's HUGE on fitness, but they're actually big on a "total fitness" thing - your finances, your relationships, your nutrition - we as students tend to focus quite a bit more on the physical fitness aspect, because it's about the only one that we're actually graded on.
Wacky-good thing, I ended up as the class leader for this. This is really a micro-chain-of-command, but it's still something that makes you stand out, even infinitesimally, from all the other digis. I often think we look like small flocks of birds in our NWUs. Over the next three days, learned that, by Navy standards, I am not in NEARLY as good physical shape as I'd thought, but I'm making better lifestyle choices than the vast majority of sailors, so...yay?
Well, sort of yay. I still have to pass my PRTs. These are every six months. The thing is, passing shouldn't be that difficult - it's sort of a minimum standard. But for this one, I was in Radar for all of January, cutting down any time that I might have given to regular PT. I'm beginning to suspect that I have a milder form of 'test-anxiety' (really, doesn't everyone have this?) but I'm never getting it diagnosed, because I apparently produce my best results when I'm freaking out about the prospect of failure.
If you're going to go through most of life as a Type "B" personality, you've got to have SOMETHING kick you in the pants when you need to actually produce results.
But, let there be much rejoicing, I did pass, and almost exactly in the range I usually train for. That was one of the particularly crazy days, when I left my barracks at 0630 and didn't get back 'til just before 2100, running from one responsibility to the next. It feels good, though - a little zany at times, but I LIKE being able to do more.
I've been apprenticing as the yeoman (secretary) for the chapel choir - I'm taking over in March. I also got invited to be on the student leadership for Connexion - it's sort of our base ministry. Still can't get a SNUFI job - my barracks wants more students in the "holds" section before they'll approve anyone taking other jobs during the day. But, hoping.
Everything I said about being here another 6-8 months? Yeah. Forget that. I COULD be here another 6-8 months. On the other hand, just learned at a brief on Friday that one of the guys from my class received his orders THIS week to transfer NEXT week. So, it's fairly up in the air.
I've had hot water for 6 out of 7 showers this week, so I'm pretty happy about that.
I may or may not have had my first heart attack on Thursday. Jury's still out. Symptoms were acting like it, but aside from the PRT-anxiety, there's been nothing that would explain it. 30s-friend thinks I did, Army-friend thinks it's possible, EMT-friend thinks I'm too young. I kind of agree with EMT-friend, but a surprising number of Pre-BUD/S get heart attacks during their training and don't realize it until a real doctor checks them out ten years later. I'm going to sick call on Monday - another piece of my current to-do list was a medical check anyway.
This afternoon, a friend and I are going to go see Tangled. Again. This is the 3rd or 4th time I've seen it since it came out. Rapunzel is my new favorite Disney princess. I'm delighted that the on-base theater keeps bringing this one back.
Plus, there are always kids in the audience when they show movies I really like. I don't get to interact with them, but just seeing them running around is great.
I may have found a church! Mama Mac invited about a half-dozen of the girls from Connexion to a women's retreat, and I liked the church well enough to go to their service later that night. It's about four miles away from base, so walking there'd be no issue in the afternoons, and I can catch a ride back to base after dark. (The church's neighborhood is lovely - my base's, not so much.) There's a bit of paperwork and pleading I'd have to do in order for my leadership to let me off base without a buddy, but if I'm going to church, they might be okay with it. I'm excited!
Honeycrisp apples are amazing.
My friend Stephanie and I watched A Little Princess again last Sunday. I don't think I'd seen it in the last ten years, but I remember watching it when we were little. So, so good. I needed to hear a lot of that, that all girls are princesses, because I'd stopped believing that I really had any value.
Stephanie's become my dearest friend on base, and she transferred yesterday. She's been making interesting plans to get me to Hawaii (where she's based) and to set me up with one of her or her fiance's male Christian friends at their wedding this fall. She's absolutely wonderful, and it's been great spending so much time with her, and I honestly can't picture being at Great Lakes for 8 months with no Stephanie. Just doesn't compute. Stephanie's ALWAYS been here.
(It should be noted, I have had other friends transfer before, and for the most part, you recognize the transient nature of everything here. Stephanie's like my on-base sister, though.)
Found a yoga class that I love. Forgot how much I love flexibility work - Navy teaches that you're supposed to be mixing up flexibility, strength, and cardio, and I've really just been loading up cardio from graduation to my PFA. (I am not a SEAL. They do not care how many chin-ups I can do. They just want to make sure I can run.) Schedule only permits being there one day a week, but one is infinitely better than none. :)
There've been other minor ups and downs, but, as stated, by the time Saturday afternoon comes around, everything has sort of settled and evened out. I'm content, happy, frustrated, and okay with that.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Brainwashing
Okay, one of my friends just ran smack into this, so I should probably explain that it's there.
This does NOT mean that I'm depressed. Actually, I'm fairly happy and well-balanced. That's what makes this kind of scary.
We're inundated with a couple different messages. One is that we're not worth much, we're all grunts, all the same, any one of us can fill in for another at any given time. Another is that anyone on the outside has forgotten us, those relationships aren't real, they have their own lives to move on with and don't remember you. This second one is to make us more cohesive - if the outside relationships don't matter, the ones on the inside matter even more.
There are obvious counters to these. The most obvious one in my life is my family - my parents and sisters - followed by three friends and a sizable chunk of my Camp family. My parents and sisters have been AMAZING about supporting me - I'm able to talk with them every week, they think of me, pray for me (this is big), send me mail (also big), and there's really no way that I could think that they've forgotten me.
The value thing holds out against that. I retain the idea that these people who haven't forgotten me still love me not for anything I have to offer, but in spite of the fact that I DON'T really have anything, and they still take pleasure in me. It's a cool way to love, when that's what's really going on. Pretty much based on the way God loves us.
I was watching Charade on Sunday (why? Because I love Audrey Hepburn. I always end up identifying with her characters. The guys were having a pre-game LAN party, the girls were upstairs watching a movie), and ended up texting a friend over the question of whether a woman's trust was worth $250,000. He answered that you couldn't put price on it. Later that week, I told him that I felt like I was worth about $250, maybe $280 on a good day. Not "woe-is-me," just the fact. The grand total of everything I thought I brought to the table. And the scary bit was that I was content with that. I wasn't sad, or down on myself. I even remember justifying, "Hey, $250 is a lot in some countries! Do you know how many people out there live on less than $2 a day?!"
We're not depressed (well, for the most part. Some people really are, but that's because we're in Great Lakes, which depresses everybody). We believe these teachings as the parameters of our world, and we approach that world with the same attitude that we came to the last one. Mine is one of quirky pluck, random cheer. This is the way the world is, okay, I'm going to be happy in it.
And generally that works FINE. Until a friend randomly messages me with something cool that reminded him of me, and I realize that he HASN'T forgotten me, DOES still love me and see me as having value, and suddenly everything I know is called into question.
So, if you and I someday reunite, and I seem a little weird, it's probably not that I'm not happy to see you; I just had no idea that you'd be happy to see ME.
This does NOT mean that I'm depressed. Actually, I'm fairly happy and well-balanced. That's what makes this kind of scary.
We're inundated with a couple different messages. One is that we're not worth much, we're all grunts, all the same, any one of us can fill in for another at any given time. Another is that anyone on the outside has forgotten us, those relationships aren't real, they have their own lives to move on with and don't remember you. This second one is to make us more cohesive - if the outside relationships don't matter, the ones on the inside matter even more.
There are obvious counters to these. The most obvious one in my life is my family - my parents and sisters - followed by three friends and a sizable chunk of my Camp family. My parents and sisters have been AMAZING about supporting me - I'm able to talk with them every week, they think of me, pray for me (this is big), send me mail (also big), and there's really no way that I could think that they've forgotten me.
The value thing holds out against that. I retain the idea that these people who haven't forgotten me still love me not for anything I have to offer, but in spite of the fact that I DON'T really have anything, and they still take pleasure in me. It's a cool way to love, when that's what's really going on. Pretty much based on the way God loves us.
I was watching Charade on Sunday (why? Because I love Audrey Hepburn. I always end up identifying with her characters. The guys were having a pre-game LAN party, the girls were upstairs watching a movie), and ended up texting a friend over the question of whether a woman's trust was worth $250,000. He answered that you couldn't put price on it. Later that week, I told him that I felt like I was worth about $250, maybe $280 on a good day. Not "woe-is-me," just the fact. The grand total of everything I thought I brought to the table. And the scary bit was that I was content with that. I wasn't sad, or down on myself. I even remember justifying, "Hey, $250 is a lot in some countries! Do you know how many people out there live on less than $2 a day?!"
We're not depressed (well, for the most part. Some people really are, but that's because we're in Great Lakes, which depresses everybody). We believe these teachings as the parameters of our world, and we approach that world with the same attitude that we came to the last one. Mine is one of quirky pluck, random cheer. This is the way the world is, okay, I'm going to be happy in it.
And generally that works FINE. Until a friend randomly messages me with something cool that reminded him of me, and I realize that he HASN'T forgotten me, DOES still love me and see me as having value, and suddenly everything I know is called into question.
So, if you and I someday reunite, and I seem a little weird, it's probably not that I'm not happy to see you; I just had no idea that you'd be happy to see ME.
Back up to speed.
Oh yeah! This little darlin' is still kicking around!
All right, so my internet use has been rather sporadic due to the last third of my program being Radar. So, what have I been up to in the last month?
Accelerated electronics program, mostly. When I have time, I PT, but that's not nearly as often as I'd like. Hopefully with the coming graduation, more time will free up.
Personally, I doubt it. The way I live, free time never stays free - it's a vacuum. "Hey! There's space here! I can put something in there!" It's a good life, though. :)
Also, I jumped in a lake! There are photos on Facebook - a hole was cut next to the boat docks. Lake Michigan is frozen right up to shore. I've a friend from California - he's been stationed in Iraq, Japan, and Hawaii, and has no intentions of passing this way again - who agreed to take the plunge with me. I'm more impressed with him, really - for me, this wasn't that cold, just a lot of fun.
I saw Tangled with a few friends - yes, ladies, there are in fact straight guys out there who like Disney movies. Few of them will admit it in the first three months after you meet. It was a good time. This might be my new favorite Disney movie.
At some point in the last four weeks, I actually had time to SIT DOWN and watch a movie (this was probably during a massive two-day blizzard that shut down the whole base). In light of two of my friends receiving orders to Hawaii, Lilo and Stitch seemed appropriate. Crazy thing - if you only have time to watch one movie in a month, that movie will be playing in your head for the REST of that month. And people wonder why I don't watch the stupid ones.
Aside from those, my immediate friends (especially a soldier who gets out in April) can tell you that I've been riding a roller coaster of stress going through various radars. Originally, all of us (myself included) were trying to figure out the best way to keep me calm and happy - and then I realized that all of my best test scores were the tests when I was freaking out and terrified. Apparently I do well under pressure, in a sort of sideways fashion.
The fun thing, looking back, is the final lab. Up to this point, we worked with a particular radar receiver, or a certain display, or a radar switchboard, with some variation. The final lab combines everything into one system, and once again sends the student out to figure out how it's broken and what to replace. But, each of these individual components that had us brain-wracking in the days before, we simply blink that this one is part of the system. The display was the most interesting - the original display module was supposed to be the big mountain for all of us to hurdle, and I think we did lose some people over it. In the systems lab, thanks to everything we went through on that display, we now know exactly what to expect from it, and there's no problem that it's included.
There are other problems with that lab, of course, but I've taken that, "Do not pray for easy lives," business to heart. :) Also, interesting note, apparently I talk to my electronics without realizing it. One of my lab buddies overheard me (I was puzzled with my switchboard) quietly mutter, "Come on, baby, don't do this now." We're entertained.
But, barring unforeseen cataclysm, or a petty officer having a really bad day, I graduate tomorrow. I'll describe the next adventures as they come. :)
All right, so my internet use has been rather sporadic due to the last third of my program being Radar. So, what have I been up to in the last month?
Accelerated electronics program, mostly. When I have time, I PT, but that's not nearly as often as I'd like. Hopefully with the coming graduation, more time will free up.
Personally, I doubt it. The way I live, free time never stays free - it's a vacuum. "Hey! There's space here! I can put something in there!" It's a good life, though. :)
Also, I jumped in a lake! There are photos on Facebook - a hole was cut next to the boat docks. Lake Michigan is frozen right up to shore. I've a friend from California - he's been stationed in Iraq, Japan, and Hawaii, and has no intentions of passing this way again - who agreed to take the plunge with me. I'm more impressed with him, really - for me, this wasn't that cold, just a lot of fun.
I saw Tangled with a few friends - yes, ladies, there are in fact straight guys out there who like Disney movies. Few of them will admit it in the first three months after you meet. It was a good time. This might be my new favorite Disney movie.
At some point in the last four weeks, I actually had time to SIT DOWN and watch a movie (this was probably during a massive two-day blizzard that shut down the whole base). In light of two of my friends receiving orders to Hawaii, Lilo and Stitch seemed appropriate. Crazy thing - if you only have time to watch one movie in a month, that movie will be playing in your head for the REST of that month. And people wonder why I don't watch the stupid ones.
Aside from those, my immediate friends (especially a soldier who gets out in April) can tell you that I've been riding a roller coaster of stress going through various radars. Originally, all of us (myself included) were trying to figure out the best way to keep me calm and happy - and then I realized that all of my best test scores were the tests when I was freaking out and terrified. Apparently I do well under pressure, in a sort of sideways fashion.
The fun thing, looking back, is the final lab. Up to this point, we worked with a particular radar receiver, or a certain display, or a radar switchboard, with some variation. The final lab combines everything into one system, and once again sends the student out to figure out how it's broken and what to replace. But, each of these individual components that had us brain-wracking in the days before, we simply blink that this one is part of the system. The display was the most interesting - the original display module was supposed to be the big mountain for all of us to hurdle, and I think we did lose some people over it. In the systems lab, thanks to everything we went through on that display, we now know exactly what to expect from it, and there's no problem that it's included.
There are other problems with that lab, of course, but I've taken that, "Do not pray for easy lives," business to heart. :) Also, interesting note, apparently I talk to my electronics without realizing it. One of my lab buddies overheard me (I was puzzled with my switchboard) quietly mutter, "Come on, baby, don't do this now." We're entertained.
But, barring unforeseen cataclysm, or a petty officer having a really bad day, I graduate tomorrow. I'll describe the next adventures as they come. :)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Standards?
"Oh, Steve*, that's really sweet of you, but I actually like guys who shower on a daily basis. Sorry."
*not his real name
The misadventures of being in the vast gender minority continue!
For anyone who came in late, some stats:
6,000 students on base.
Approximately 35 males to every 1 female.
This is not taking into account whoever is married, gay, or in a long-term relationship. All of these skew the odds further.
It occurs to no one that I don't WANT to be in a relationship right now. I'm not married. I don't have a boyfriend. I'm straight. And I'm actually really okay with being single.
"Single" is supposedly a lamentable condition, and anyone suffering this malady simply must be desperate to be rid of it. Yes? Yes? So, what are you doing Friday?
It could be observed that one of the reasons I'm okay with being single is that I don't have time to date. I suppose I could explain, "I can only have boyfriends on Saturdays," but I'm slightly concerned that they might take me up on that. But, really, the fact that I'm out of school doesn't mean I have heaps of time lying around; it just means that I'm less stressed than before.
Telling guys that I don't date for fun; if I'm dating someone, it's to figure out whether we could get married, works. Kind of. Gets rid of about 2/3 of them, anyway. Sigh.
I realize that there's all kinds of help and advice in the world for catching male attention. I, by contrast, can tell you ladies - join the military. If you are single and desiring otherwise when you come in, you will likely develop a significant other two weeks after Boot Camp. Maybe three, if you're shy. I, by contrast, try different techniques to lose male interest.
I've observed in other women that the best approach is to not shower, not brush your teeth, generally don't care about your appearance. Yeah, that's not going to happen here.
*not his real name
The misadventures of being in the vast gender minority continue!
For anyone who came in late, some stats:
6,000 students on base.
Approximately 35 males to every 1 female.
This is not taking into account whoever is married, gay, or in a long-term relationship. All of these skew the odds further.
It occurs to no one that I don't WANT to be in a relationship right now. I'm not married. I don't have a boyfriend. I'm straight. And I'm actually really okay with being single.
"Single" is supposedly a lamentable condition, and anyone suffering this malady simply must be desperate to be rid of it. Yes? Yes? So, what are you doing Friday?
It could be observed that one of the reasons I'm okay with being single is that I don't have time to date. I suppose I could explain, "I can only have boyfriends on Saturdays," but I'm slightly concerned that they might take me up on that. But, really, the fact that I'm out of school doesn't mean I have heaps of time lying around; it just means that I'm less stressed than before.
Telling guys that I don't date for fun; if I'm dating someone, it's to figure out whether we could get married, works. Kind of. Gets rid of about 2/3 of them, anyway. Sigh.
I realize that there's all kinds of help and advice in the world for catching male attention. I, by contrast, can tell you ladies - join the military. If you are single and desiring otherwise when you come in, you will likely develop a significant other two weeks after Boot Camp. Maybe three, if you're shy. I, by contrast, try different techniques to lose male interest.
I've observed in other women that the best approach is to not shower, not brush your teeth, generally don't care about your appearance. Yeah, that's not going to happen here.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Travel Saga
Herein lies the adventure of one Firefly, traveling from her current base to home address.
My base is a training command, which means that we CAN take what's referred to as "Christmas Standdown" - nearly all of the base shuts down for two weeks. This is by no means the case with every military base. One of the girls in my class (former Aviation Technician) showed me her squadron's patch - it was a calendar month with a different image representing every well-known holiday, with a red "no" symbol superimposed over it, and their squadron name beneath. That year, they had flown on every holiday.
The actual dates of standdown are not generally released until mid-November. This is a source of irritation for anyone who wants to fly home - is it best to purchase tickets early, securing a good price but risking having the dates wrong? Or would it be better to wait, have to pay more, but have the dates for sure? Of course the latter is safer, but the general saying is that the two most important things to a Sailor are his time* and his money - because the Navy doesn't give us much of either. :)
*Much closer to the truth are "his girlfriend, and his family," at least for the guys I know, and they prefer having their time and money to spend with these two parties.
I am fortunate - taking the bus is a conceivable option. There's a nice little element of the Midwest referred to as Megabus - it doesn't exactly run on time, nor do they have designated depots, but they're decently warm, fabulously affordable, and sometimes even have Wi-Fi (not always, it must be noted, but sometimes). Ticket purchase ended up being an adventure in and of itself - internet is by no means a sure thing in my life.
The adventure begins Thursday. The past few days, we've been busy setting our rooms aright for this break - in essence, giving the appearance that no one lives there. While both of my roommates are done with their responsibilities at noon, this is in fact when my classes begin (having been moved up for the day).
Some massive shifts regarding my curriculum begin in January - we elected to switch our schedule up a bit and take one of the shorter units this week, rather than the one that was originally scheduled and would have had us testing the day after we returned. Too short a unit, it turned out - we finished and tested a day early. A rare fluff day - we spent it watching Master & Commander, and then released to a short field day on the schoolhouse. I spent the hour polishing two solid brass Howitzers captured off a Confederate ship during the Civil War.
Met with a few friends for pizza that evening, a sort of last hurrah. Over the course of the night, I got nearly 40 minutes of sleep. Reveille was at 0200, superiors wanted us out of the barracks at 0400, my bus ticket was for noon. Brilliant.
David and I were going to take the train into Chicago together, but this meant first schlepping our stuff the two miles from our barracks to the station. This is a simple matter for me, with my solitary backpack and laptop. Not so for David, who is hauling over 250 pounds between his sea bag and two overstuffed backpacks. (David is a foot taller than I am, and we weigh exactly the same. He has years of backpacking experience, but this is still quite the load he's hauling.)
We barely made the first train - really, it was only because of the press of sailors already waiting that we did. I imagine the ride in was uneventful - I slept through it. On David's sea bag.
Having arrived in central Chicago, we discovered that 1) Booters cannot be trusted to wear a dress blue uniform properly through a train station, and 2) Breakfast was in order. In the time it took to consume bagels and coffee (coffee for me, for David, the worst cup of tomato juice he claims he's ever had), we encountered a half-dozen other friends from base. Cheers!
Parted then, he to O'Hare, I to Union Station. To wait. And try desperately hard NOT to fall asleep. I'd elected NOT to travel in uniform (were I flying, that would be different), and it was kind of nice to not be noticed.
Four hours, six pages of journaling, a long conversation with a longer-distance friend, and a path-crossing with one very attractive Marine later, it was time to meet my bus. Or...so I thought. As stated, Megabus doesn't always run on time. The Megabus to Memphis was just pulling away as I arrived at the corner. Twenty minutes later, the 1140 bus arrived. Those of us headed to Minneapolis slightly cheered at this - a sign that our bus had neither vanished nor arrived early, but was running ridiculously late. But, had I known that I would be standing in the snow for an extra hour, I would likely NOT have worn my soon-to-be-retired running shoes.
I don't actually own a pair of nonmilitary boots. It's on my to-do list for this break.
Forty minutes late, our bus arrived. I climbed up to the second deck, found a window seat, and almost immediately kicked off my shoes and hid my sock-clad feet under the seat in front of me, in hopes that some feeling might return to my soaked toes before frostbite set in. Being from Minnesota, you feel a little stupid admitting that you didn't properly dress for the weather.
My seatmate turned out to have been a stage-management major in college, and then moved on to nonprofit humanitarian work (two years teaching English and theater in Romania with the Peace Corps, among a lot of other cool things). Very cool conversation, comparing some of what she does with nonprofit with the way things run at Camp (I was wearing both a Camp hoodie and t-shirt*).
*This was actually not planned - I just own more Camp t-shirts than anything else.
There's something so, so nice about having someone waiting to pick you up when your bus/plane/train arrives. You're perfectly capable of making your way the last leg if you had to, but the fact that someone cared enough to meet you, and is happy to see you...wow.
We don't really do, "happy to see you," on base. It's dangerous to be too happy, it attracts attention. You can do a, "Hey, cool, you're here," or if you're feeling especially good, you can divert it into sarcasm. We divert everything into sarcasm - the more emotional we are, the more we sound like jerks. It's like a code where we interpret it and bond over it, but it's a whole lot safer than actually expressing what's going on. The fact that you're somewhere where people DO means that you're safe again.
Dad and I spent a most enjoyable ride home. Everything from Dr. Demento to discussions about Catholicism. Dad and I can talk for hours about anything...as long as we're in the same room. We're awful at phone conversations.
But now, I am home. And it doesn't feel weird at all - really, it feels as though I never left. :)
My base is a training command, which means that we CAN take what's referred to as "Christmas Standdown" - nearly all of the base shuts down for two weeks. This is by no means the case with every military base. One of the girls in my class (former Aviation Technician) showed me her squadron's patch - it was a calendar month with a different image representing every well-known holiday, with a red "no" symbol superimposed over it, and their squadron name beneath. That year, they had flown on every holiday.
The actual dates of standdown are not generally released until mid-November. This is a source of irritation for anyone who wants to fly home - is it best to purchase tickets early, securing a good price but risking having the dates wrong? Or would it be better to wait, have to pay more, but have the dates for sure? Of course the latter is safer, but the general saying is that the two most important things to a Sailor are his time* and his money - because the Navy doesn't give us much of either. :)
*Much closer to the truth are "his girlfriend, and his family," at least for the guys I know, and they prefer having their time and money to spend with these two parties.
I am fortunate - taking the bus is a conceivable option. There's a nice little element of the Midwest referred to as Megabus - it doesn't exactly run on time, nor do they have designated depots, but they're decently warm, fabulously affordable, and sometimes even have Wi-Fi (not always, it must be noted, but sometimes). Ticket purchase ended up being an adventure in and of itself - internet is by no means a sure thing in my life.
The adventure begins Thursday. The past few days, we've been busy setting our rooms aright for this break - in essence, giving the appearance that no one lives there. While both of my roommates are done with their responsibilities at noon, this is in fact when my classes begin (having been moved up for the day).
Some massive shifts regarding my curriculum begin in January - we elected to switch our schedule up a bit and take one of the shorter units this week, rather than the one that was originally scheduled and would have had us testing the day after we returned. Too short a unit, it turned out - we finished and tested a day early. A rare fluff day - we spent it watching Master & Commander, and then released to a short field day on the schoolhouse. I spent the hour polishing two solid brass Howitzers captured off a Confederate ship during the Civil War.
Met with a few friends for pizza that evening, a sort of last hurrah. Over the course of the night, I got nearly 40 minutes of sleep. Reveille was at 0200, superiors wanted us out of the barracks at 0400, my bus ticket was for noon. Brilliant.
David and I were going to take the train into Chicago together, but this meant first schlepping our stuff the two miles from our barracks to the station. This is a simple matter for me, with my solitary backpack and laptop. Not so for David, who is hauling over 250 pounds between his sea bag and two overstuffed backpacks. (David is a foot taller than I am, and we weigh exactly the same. He has years of backpacking experience, but this is still quite the load he's hauling.)
We barely made the first train - really, it was only because of the press of sailors already waiting that we did. I imagine the ride in was uneventful - I slept through it. On David's sea bag.
Having arrived in central Chicago, we discovered that 1) Booters cannot be trusted to wear a dress blue uniform properly through a train station, and 2) Breakfast was in order. In the time it took to consume bagels and coffee (coffee for me, for David, the worst cup of tomato juice he claims he's ever had), we encountered a half-dozen other friends from base. Cheers!
Parted then, he to O'Hare, I to Union Station. To wait. And try desperately hard NOT to fall asleep. I'd elected NOT to travel in uniform (were I flying, that would be different), and it was kind of nice to not be noticed.
Four hours, six pages of journaling, a long conversation with a longer-distance friend, and a path-crossing with one very attractive Marine later, it was time to meet my bus. Or...so I thought. As stated, Megabus doesn't always run on time. The Megabus to Memphis was just pulling away as I arrived at the corner. Twenty minutes later, the 1140 bus arrived. Those of us headed to Minneapolis slightly cheered at this - a sign that our bus had neither vanished nor arrived early, but was running ridiculously late. But, had I known that I would be standing in the snow for an extra hour, I would likely NOT have worn my soon-to-be-retired running shoes.
I don't actually own a pair of nonmilitary boots. It's on my to-do list for this break.
Forty minutes late, our bus arrived. I climbed up to the second deck, found a window seat, and almost immediately kicked off my shoes and hid my sock-clad feet under the seat in front of me, in hopes that some feeling might return to my soaked toes before frostbite set in. Being from Minnesota, you feel a little stupid admitting that you didn't properly dress for the weather.
My seatmate turned out to have been a stage-management major in college, and then moved on to nonprofit humanitarian work (two years teaching English and theater in Romania with the Peace Corps, among a lot of other cool things). Very cool conversation, comparing some of what she does with nonprofit with the way things run at Camp (I was wearing both a Camp hoodie and t-shirt*).
*This was actually not planned - I just own more Camp t-shirts than anything else.
There's something so, so nice about having someone waiting to pick you up when your bus/plane/train arrives. You're perfectly capable of making your way the last leg if you had to, but the fact that someone cared enough to meet you, and is happy to see you...wow.
We don't really do, "happy to see you," on base. It's dangerous to be too happy, it attracts attention. You can do a, "Hey, cool, you're here," or if you're feeling especially good, you can divert it into sarcasm. We divert everything into sarcasm - the more emotional we are, the more we sound like jerks. It's like a code where we interpret it and bond over it, but it's a whole lot safer than actually expressing what's going on. The fact that you're somewhere where people DO means that you're safe again.
Dad and I spent a most enjoyable ride home. Everything from Dr. Demento to discussions about Catholicism. Dad and I can talk for hours about anything...as long as we're in the same room. We're awful at phone conversations.
But now, I am home. And it doesn't feel weird at all - really, it feels as though I never left. :)
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