I have roughly a quarter month left here. I'm feeling some mixed feelings about leaving. I'm pretty sure that sounds a little strange, but it is what it is. There is strangeness going on with my biggest baby which is making things a little bit rough around the edges here lately. But, I am powerless to do or change anything from here. So, that's awesome.
Now is the time where I start Christmas shopping. Over the Internet, which oddly just doesn't feel the same. But, again...choices are limited. But...I have some pretty awesomely telling gifts in mind. Here's to hoping I can actually find what I'm looking for.
Turns out I have a year left in Germany. Assuming I don't get the paperwork error fixed. I'm still trying to decide what I want to do with that. I reckon time will tell. Off to shower and drink coffee before today's ridiculous mission. And in the meantime I'll try and figure out how to parcel my time for leave. Go Team Me. Seriously, I have the coolest number on the team. Because I AM the fucking Team.
Today's blog was brought to you by "Reaping What You Sow" and the letter Nth.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
The Last Starfighter
On mission. Waiting to SP. Long night ahead. Chasing the Great White Whale as it were. Go officers. My Dad flew out today for Kuwait and I didn't get to talk to him due to our first mission hit time being pushed to the left. Fucking lame. Baby John's birthday was a few days ago. Year three I haven't been around for it. Fucking lame. I'm ready to come home.
I'm ready to see the boys again. I'm ready to maybe enjoy a beer or two. I'm ready to jump from skin to skin and run from this whole deployment. It's something to do I suppose. When the nerves are dead what's left to feel? An echo? A memory? A blood borne scream? Who knows? certainly not this guy.
So once again, not everyone will be home when I come home due to Death or deployment. And as it happens those that have died recently, I'd really, really, REALLY like to talk to. Make statements, ask questions, etc. Relate what my war was like. In general, the only person I really want to talk to about it all... Won't be home. Fuck.
So, it's off to mission number something hundred and just try to hold on for a another couple of weeks. And then...something. Nothing? Who knows? Yet another downside to coming home. But, that's a whole different story.
sleep tight. Sweet dreams, and all that jazz.
"Slowly the pen touches paper in the guidance of the words that you write.
Memories roll in; of the things you once did
and who you had shared them with is somebody thinking of you..."
I'm ready to see the boys again. I'm ready to maybe enjoy a beer or two. I'm ready to jump from skin to skin and run from this whole deployment. It's something to do I suppose. When the nerves are dead what's left to feel? An echo? A memory? A blood borne scream? Who knows? certainly not this guy.
So once again, not everyone will be home when I come home due to Death or deployment. And as it happens those that have died recently, I'd really, really, REALLY like to talk to. Make statements, ask questions, etc. Relate what my war was like. In general, the only person I really want to talk to about it all... Won't be home. Fuck.
So, it's off to mission number something hundred and just try to hold on for a another couple of weeks. And then...something. Nothing? Who knows? Yet another downside to coming home. But, that's a whole different story.
sleep tight. Sweet dreams, and all that jazz.
"Slowly the pen touches paper in the guidance of the words that you write.
Memories roll in; of the things you once did
and who you had shared them with is somebody thinking of you..."
Monday, September 15, 2008
Notes From Underground...
I love when we start packing. There are books. EVERYWHERE. Unfortunately, I'm short on space, so I can only grab a few. Here's a bit from the first one I grabbed.
"In vain the Dreamer rakes over his old dreams, as though seeking a spark among the embers, to fan them into flame, to warm his chilled heart by the rekindled fire, and to rouse up in it again all that was so sweet, that touched his heart, that set his blood boiling, drew tears from his eyes, and so luxuriously deceived him!"
WOW. Hello Nurse! This stuff is leaving me speechless. It's grand. Other than that I'm packing myself. And wondering where everybody went... I haven't heard from a lot of people in a long time. It's disconcerting.
I'm kind of apprehensive still about coming home. But I don't really get a choice in the matter. I want to come home more than anything and I don't. It's a really weird feeling and very, very hard to explain.
"It's all suicide if I hide.
Because you are everywhere I look and in my skin.
I taste your neck and lips just from breathing in.
Let's call it off, kid. "
"In vain the Dreamer rakes over his old dreams, as though seeking a spark among the embers, to fan them into flame, to warm his chilled heart by the rekindled fire, and to rouse up in it again all that was so sweet, that touched his heart, that set his blood boiling, drew tears from his eyes, and so luxuriously deceived him!"
WOW. Hello Nurse! This stuff is leaving me speechless. It's grand. Other than that I'm packing myself. And wondering where everybody went... I haven't heard from a lot of people in a long time. It's disconcerting.
I'm kind of apprehensive still about coming home. But I don't really get a choice in the matter. I want to come home more than anything and I don't. It's a really weird feeling and very, very hard to explain.
"It's all suicide if I hide.
Because you are everywhere I look and in my skin.
I taste your neck and lips just from breathing in.
Let's call it off, kid. "
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Dear Ambellina...
Reading The Amory Wars... Knowing what happened to the characters makes it even more satisfying.
"I will call you out from shelter. Burn your Wings, you'll know no better."
Not much else going on. Not a whole lot to say. Been reading and writing a lot. So, I started jotting down the dreams I've had since being on the ole nicotine patch as they apparently make my dreams memorable. So...that's nice? I don't know. I just write. So, at about a pace of 5 a pop here we go.
1000 Worlds.
World 1. I have a newborn daughter. My Dad, My Papa, and myself are standing in a rough circle looking at her as I hold her. We are talking about her name and how bad I'll spoil her. I tell them her name is for both of them. We are all smiling.
World 2. I drop the boys off at school. The elementary is Garfield, the same one went to as a child. It is exactly as I remember it. I take the kids to their classes and go to the latrine. As I'm washing my hands a woman walks in and asks me for money. I tell her I don't really have anything on me. She starts telling me about her last sexual encounter. I'm more than a little weirded out. I go home. I am apparently married. She has made coffee and is awake on the couch in a robe. I drink the coffee and lay on the couch with my head in her lap. She plays with my hair as I tell her about the morning. We playfully argue about the definition of a "Dirty Sanchez". She leans over to kiss me.
World 3. I'm in a firefight in our second sector in Baghdad. We are right at the edge of the Green Mile. I am running out of ammunition. I yell for more, but no one can hear me. I get pissed off. I start tearing off my kit and stand up. I say that I'm really, really tired.
World 4. I'm at the mall in Portland. I'm in the Sears looking at appliances. I realize that I don't know where the boys are. I start running through the store screaming for them. I know they have been kidnapped. I start dealing on people trying to slow me down. Every now and then I'll see one of the kids through the corner of my eye, but every time I turn to chase they are gone. I can't find them or catch up to them.
World 5. I'm back at the Mass Cas. I'm in the middle of the Urgent Cares. The little girl missing her legs and part of her face is staring at me. She tells me she is dying. I tell her I'm doing everything I can. But everything I try just makes it worse. All the other casualties start calling for me. The kids are trying to crawl off their stretchers as I'm strapping them down. Nothing I do works. There is blood all over me.
World 6. I'm in small white room. There are photographs covering the floor and 3 walls. I am handcuffed to a chair. After a while a nurse comes in. She grabs pictures and wraps them around her fists, like brass knuckles. She beats the crap out of me. I still can't move. She leaves. I sit trying to get loose. She comes back in and beats me again.
And now, for something completely different. A few selections from the last book I just read.
Rollins "Roomanitarian"
~Song of The Solipsist~
My scar tissue tells my tale. My name is not important. Only the truth I tell and the journey I have made are of any worth. The rest is just the sound of wind and boots stepping down endless trails of cinder, littered with bonesand scraps of metal.
You were the small brightly colored bird the boys incinerated their hearts upon. They loved you bitterly and called you a witch. You wanted to belong to someone. You found one but he tricked you and tore you like a sister's doll in a mean brother's hands and you became the hurricane child, spewing broken glass shards and cat blood. I tracked the blood drops through the snow and found you. You didn't fear me. We saw ourselves in each other and holstered our weapons.
Is there anything here I can call my own? A feeling? A moment? Anything? Will there ever be a time I am truly loved? When I'll know it and not wonder if it's real? Is there something I can protect and love and care about? Is there a truth I can keep that has no fear attached? Will there ever be a time I can be somewhere and it will feel like home? Will there ever be a time I can look around me and know I am finally in the place I am supposed to be? Is there anything here, anything I can see, while I breathe and breathe, trying to stay alive long enough to just be able to be here and know that I am here? Not just any here but the here I am supposed to be in. Is there anything I can call mine that will not eventually be taken from me? Is there anything, anyone, ever?
"I will call you out from shelter. Burn your Wings, you'll know no better."
Not much else going on. Not a whole lot to say. Been reading and writing a lot. So, I started jotting down the dreams I've had since being on the ole nicotine patch as they apparently make my dreams memorable. So...that's nice? I don't know. I just write. So, at about a pace of 5 a pop here we go.
1000 Worlds.
World 1. I have a newborn daughter. My Dad, My Papa, and myself are standing in a rough circle looking at her as I hold her. We are talking about her name and how bad I'll spoil her. I tell them her name is for both of them. We are all smiling.
World 2. I drop the boys off at school. The elementary is Garfield, the same one went to as a child. It is exactly as I remember it. I take the kids to their classes and go to the latrine. As I'm washing my hands a woman walks in and asks me for money. I tell her I don't really have anything on me. She starts telling me about her last sexual encounter. I'm more than a little weirded out. I go home. I am apparently married. She has made coffee and is awake on the couch in a robe. I drink the coffee and lay on the couch with my head in her lap. She plays with my hair as I tell her about the morning. We playfully argue about the definition of a "Dirty Sanchez". She leans over to kiss me.
World 3. I'm in a firefight in our second sector in Baghdad. We are right at the edge of the Green Mile. I am running out of ammunition. I yell for more, but no one can hear me. I get pissed off. I start tearing off my kit and stand up. I say that I'm really, really tired.
World 4. I'm at the mall in Portland. I'm in the Sears looking at appliances. I realize that I don't know where the boys are. I start running through the store screaming for them. I know they have been kidnapped. I start dealing on people trying to slow me down. Every now and then I'll see one of the kids through the corner of my eye, but every time I turn to chase they are gone. I can't find them or catch up to them.
World 5. I'm back at the Mass Cas. I'm in the middle of the Urgent Cares. The little girl missing her legs and part of her face is staring at me. She tells me she is dying. I tell her I'm doing everything I can. But everything I try just makes it worse. All the other casualties start calling for me. The kids are trying to crawl off their stretchers as I'm strapping them down. Nothing I do works. There is blood all over me.
World 6. I'm in small white room. There are photographs covering the floor and 3 walls. I am handcuffed to a chair. After a while a nurse comes in. She grabs pictures and wraps them around her fists, like brass knuckles. She beats the crap out of me. I still can't move. She leaves. I sit trying to get loose. She comes back in and beats me again.
And now, for something completely different. A few selections from the last book I just read.
Rollins "Roomanitarian"
~Song of The Solipsist~
My scar tissue tells my tale. My name is not important. Only the truth I tell and the journey I have made are of any worth. The rest is just the sound of wind and boots stepping down endless trails of cinder, littered with bonesand scraps of metal.
You were the small brightly colored bird the boys incinerated their hearts upon. They loved you bitterly and called you a witch. You wanted to belong to someone. You found one but he tricked you and tore you like a sister's doll in a mean brother's hands and you became the hurricane child, spewing broken glass shards and cat blood. I tracked the blood drops through the snow and found you. You didn't fear me. We saw ourselves in each other and holstered our weapons.
Is there anything here I can call my own? A feeling? A moment? Anything? Will there ever be a time I am truly loved? When I'll know it and not wonder if it's real? Is there something I can protect and love and care about? Is there a truth I can keep that has no fear attached? Will there ever be a time I can be somewhere and it will feel like home? Will there ever be a time I can look around me and know I am finally in the place I am supposed to be? Is there anything here, anything I can see, while I breathe and breathe, trying to stay alive long enough to just be able to be here and know that I am here? Not just any here but the here I am supposed to be in. Is there anything I can call mine that will not eventually be taken from me? Is there anything, anyone, ever?
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Bruise Pristine
So today my laptop AND my ps3 crapped out. YES! Both were for playing music and such primarily with work following up on the ole laptop. However, that's a lot of frustration and expensive at that. Eh....What can you do?
Today was meetings all around with various Iraqis and then destruction derby with their little cars versus our Stryker. Much to the captains displeasure, we won. Oh well. Since we can't do "warning shots" anymore that's the only way they'll learn. This country is so lucky I don't run this shindig. Or rather, unlucky I don't run it. Oh well, another what can you do kind of thing.
"You're the Truth, Not I."
Now I miss dinner for another monthly awesome ammo layout. Still kinda pissed off about some things but, people, much like situations are a what can you do type of thing. What can you do? Nothing. And every minute you spend thinking about the things and people that irritate and confound you is just empowering them to do it more. You give them sanction to abuse you. So don't do. Burn them in your mind. Burn that effigy and walk on. What else can you do other than sit locked in the basement of your mind if you won't shred them and move on to bigger and better things/people/situations?
And then off to another fun filled 24 hour mission. YES! 24 hours of blood and sweat. Can't beat it with a stick. Well.. you could if the heat wasn't making you want to just lay down and die. Oh well. What can you do right?
Today was meetings all around with various Iraqis and then destruction derby with their little cars versus our Stryker. Much to the captains displeasure, we won. Oh well. Since we can't do "warning shots" anymore that's the only way they'll learn. This country is so lucky I don't run this shindig. Or rather, unlucky I don't run it. Oh well, another what can you do kind of thing.
"You're the Truth, Not I."
Now I miss dinner for another monthly awesome ammo layout. Still kinda pissed off about some things but, people, much like situations are a what can you do type of thing. What can you do? Nothing. And every minute you spend thinking about the things and people that irritate and confound you is just empowering them to do it more. You give them sanction to abuse you. So don't do. Burn them in your mind. Burn that effigy and walk on. What else can you do other than sit locked in the basement of your mind if you won't shred them and move on to bigger and better things/people/situations?
And then off to another fun filled 24 hour mission. YES! 24 hours of blood and sweat. Can't beat it with a stick. Well.. you could if the heat wasn't making you want to just lay down and die. Oh well. What can you do right?
Seize The Day
Things continue to be pretty lame this week which is hard to pull off when pretty much every week is lame. But, it's sadly things that are far beyond my reach even if I weren't in Iraq. What can I do? Why am I being forced to fail my children?
In other news I am a Robot. But contrary to popular belief not the cool, coldly logical one sent from the future to kill Sarah Connor. More akin to the cute wind up ones that you crank up and let walk into walls. Pretty fitting metaphor methinks. Look at my big shiny Turnkey. Non slip grips. Just yank and twist. WHEEEEE!!! There he goes!
Lately I've been smoking again which bums me out. I was pretty pleased about quitting and am rather disappointed that I have pseudo started up again. I'm working through quitting again. We'll see how that goes. Today (being 0300..) will find me with a cup of coffee in hand hoping that no one else is in my head. And if you are.... Get Evicted.
"Have a good time, but don't get into my head."
And with so little time remaining I'm off to start the coffee pot and while cursing no sleep in 48 hours am thankful I won't be drinking this cup in 140 degree heat as it's about 0245 right now. So goodnight to you folks who are headed to bed and good morning to those leaving it.
"This one, this one right here. This was MY dream, MY wish. And it didn't come true. So I'm taking it back. I'm taking them all back. "
In other news I am a Robot. But contrary to popular belief not the cool, coldly logical one sent from the future to kill Sarah Connor. More akin to the cute wind up ones that you crank up and let walk into walls. Pretty fitting metaphor methinks. Look at my big shiny Turnkey. Non slip grips. Just yank and twist. WHEEEEE!!! There he goes!
Lately I've been smoking again which bums me out. I was pretty pleased about quitting and am rather disappointed that I have pseudo started up again. I'm working through quitting again. We'll see how that goes. Today (being 0300..) will find me with a cup of coffee in hand hoping that no one else is in my head. And if you are.... Get Evicted.
"Have a good time, but don't get into my head."
And with so little time remaining I'm off to start the coffee pot and while cursing no sleep in 48 hours am thankful I won't be drinking this cup in 140 degree heat as it's about 0245 right now. So goodnight to you folks who are headed to bed and good morning to those leaving it.
"This one, this one right here. This was MY dream, MY wish. And it didn't come true. So I'm taking it back. I'm taking them all back. "
Monday, September 1, 2008
Laugh before you Grin.
So.... I accidentally started smoking again. Damn it. I'm pretty disappointed with myself, so I know I'm gonna quit again, but still kinda irritated that I smoked again in the first place. Not much else to say. Still spending my days tearing myself up and wanting to scream in peoples' faces. What can you do? Found out that I'm slotted to go back to the 82nd. Really, Really, Really dreading that. I have no desire to jump again. Ever.
Off to work again. Yay. Go team Save Iraq!
Off to work again. Yay. Go team Save Iraq!
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