"Well, Hello there world. How are you doing on this fantastic morning?" This is how I normally start my mornings, just to make myself feel better about what's out there.

lost and found

I like to believe that sometimes people get lost by accident. Other times I like to believe that people get lost to gain pity. 

I get lost to have an adventure. In this country it's kind of hard to get lost (and stay alive) just to have some fun. 

Everyone is always in too much of a hurry to get any type of enjoyment out of the seemingly ordinary. Going places and talking to people have become a kind of taboo. Or you're just trying to get some. I make a point of talking to strangers, it gives people the chance to say what they feel or it just really creeps them out. I have very rarely met a person that will just talk if they've dialed the wrong number or just bump into someone they find interesting. 


A new adventure has started two days ago now. The journey home. These past almost 13 months a lot of things have changed. I am no longer placating other people. I have more self confidence to be who I am and damn the people that think a chipper person in Afghanistan is a "sin." I am now not tied to a relationship. And I, in truth, am happy with myself. People that I once depended on and trusted are now in the gutter. I have a new world of people that I enjoy being around and would talk to about almost anything. The sad part is that most of them are leaving soon after we get back, so I may have to start from block one all over again. Oh well, we will all enjoy the time we have while we have it. The life of the Army will always amaze me. But deployments are awesome for deep thinking and awesome friendships to form. 


So in short, I think I have learned to enjoy being myself no matter what other people have to say, no matter what myself truly is. I don't give a damn about social structures and trying to fit in with people that don't care about anything but what others think about them. Happiness was lost to be before this whole deployment and I think, through hours of thought and hateful thoughts towards others, I have found what I need to be happy with myself.

Hippies

Hippies make the time go by quicker or slower, depends on what you're into. But what do people really mean when they call you a hippie? Sometimes I just don't get it.So here's my hippieness for the week:


i wish you would listen
i wish you would talk
i wish you wouldn't joke around so much
and say "I never lied"
When, we both know you did
but that's just a wish
a wish that will never be

Rambling about work... all my opinion not theirs (my disclaimer)

If this is hard to follow I apologize, I am in a lot of pain right now and letting my thoughts flow... I would say I'll fix it later but that would be a lie. Again for my disclaimer: This is what I think not the view of the military or the government. Just my rant.

So, I do have to say I used to think working in a family owned restaurant run by a 25 year old was the worst for nepotism, favoritism, and brown-nosing. However, I have learned (not so recently) that I am mistaken. The military is the most awesome place if you like working hard and getting shit on because your job does something. I wouldn't class myself as an over-achiever, because honestly I don't care most of the time. But when my job keeps people safe, I do make sure I do it well. Moving on from that...

Sometimes I think too much, sometimes not enough. 

PC, to some it's personal computer to others it's paper clip, piece, private chat, police car, Peace corp, but to those lucky ones it's politically correct.

The military is supposed to make you hard, to accept anything, being yelled at, dragging a heavy bag across a field, for a fire fight where the person next to you might get hit by a bullet or blown up. But now getting yelled at is too much. Now you get a stress card and everything is hunky-dory because you'll get to yell "time out" when you get too stressed or someone's not being nice to you because you're acting like a 10 year old and you don't get your way. Or, you were raised in a different country, not hating other countries, and being in the US Military isn't like your old life. But, it's okay cause you don't understand. You get special treatment, but if someone else did the same thing you did... "rank, what's that?" it would be gone. Plain and simple, gone.

And then the rest of america, "There's a war?" or "You're a baby killer." just bitting your tounge because whatever you say, you still have to be better. 

The military, full of favoritism and being PC. You get a don't rape people class, don't make lewd jokes class, don't say anything that could offend anyone anywhere class, all time favorite don't kill yourself class. Which by the end of this last class you want to take a blade out and run it down your wrist, the arteries that are in your legs, and if you have the balls (so sorry if i do offend) your jugular. Just so you never have to sit through another class like this again. Don't call a female a chick, girl or haven forbid a woman, males and females are all equal and have the same standards.. Oh wait, physically we don't. Oh and I forgot, a female can't be in infantry... that's still the boys only club. Which honestly I don't want to go play in the mud for weeks on end. I like what I do. But don't try to make me into a combat arms job, I didn't sign up for that. What else do we have, oh safety is always first. Right, cause being in a country that wants us out is safe. Don't forget to go to a class to prevent DUIs.... while you're in a dry country. Will they pick me up from here if I call and say I'm too drunk to drive home?

Never leave anyone uninformed... check. Almost ten months without a visit or a peep... I was very well informed. "We're one big family." I don't talk to my family often, does that mean I don't have to talk to you? "It's a team effort, but I wouldn't talk to anyone if they didn't do my job because I'm an elitist schmuck." 

I once thought people were good, I still try to find the good in all people. It saddens me to face the reality that some people will never be good. Some people are still "all about me."

Trying to please other people instead of being who you are to you. I will admit I am guilty of this. I wish I wasn't, but I'm learning that no one really cares. I'm stopping that game. And I'm not being nice about it. There is a person that likes to follow me around I didn't stop it earlier because I thought it would patter off and die away into nothingness. Alas, it has turned into a full fledged obsession. Sometimes being anti-social isn't enough too keep him away. I hate being utterly mean to people, a complete bitch and honestly meaning it, trying to hurt someone to save my sanity. To save the relationships that I have without lashing out at my friends because one person won't stop. 

 

I think tomorrow I will write a nifty little story about something less angry. 

Not another love story

This is not my first venture into the world of blogs. This is however, the first time I have written anything in many years, and the first time to use this site. This is the first and will give you a little introduction into parts of my world.

I love sitting outside, I love to read, and at this point in time I love to smoke. I am private person when it comes to sharing my personal life at work. 

So I've been deployed for the past while. I have friends; but, I've been hiding out with a different unit for most of the time out here. It gets lonely but it works for me. So, I took a trip across a war torn country to where most of the people I normally work with in the states are. I was outside reading some random book that honestly wasn't good enough to remember. There was a soldier walking around where I was sittin' reading. I think his name (last) was something like Dix (People really do have last names like that.) He started talking to me, not taking hints and then flat out ignoring "I'm not interested in talking to you." So I started thinking about the first time I met Lionel. And since my audience was so captivated I started to tell Dix about my loving fiance. I told him the story from beginning to end. This is part of it (don't stop reading yet): We had the whole beautiful met in college, got together and stayed together from the time I was 17 and he was 19. We had our first date on my 17th birthday. It's now five years later and we're still happy. I'm in the military, deployed; he's still in college Changed his major like 3 times, as of last week he wanted to double in business and bio-engineering. I told this next "The first. The first bite, the first smile, the first love. Well, I know this is not the first. I am hoping this is the last. The last man I laugh with, the last I will sleep next to at night, the last man my eyes are to see before I die and the first to not make me cry. He's done so well so far. We'll be getting married when the unit gets back from this deployment." After this whole spiel the kid backs off a little bit. Still tries to sit and talk to me. I learned more about him then I ever wanted to know. A sad kid that comes back to see me everyday till I leave. 

So on my second to last day their I'm smoking with an old buddy, this kid comes up to me, lights a cigarette and invites himself into the circle. When he can get a word in edge wise he thinks back to the first conversation we had and asks me about Lionel. I say he's fine, happy and can't wait to see me. Me and my buddy go back into the office. He heads "home."

"Who's this Lionel feller?"

I thought about it first,  I looked at my buddy and laughed. I told him it was my prince come to life, my white knight in shining armor, my fiance.  A figment of my imagination to protect me from the misguided thoughts and longings of a sad and lost soldier.This Lionel feller well, he just doesn't exist.