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Monday, August 30th, 2004
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So, I make my pilgrimage to Tucson on Sunday to go to a nice big book store and get some new running shoes. I had my last pair for something like five years which is way too long. The running shoe industry--of course--recommends a new pair every six months. I may run a few miles every week, but I think they're just trying to get me to buy more shoes. Anyway, I still needed some new shoes.
( Gang Membership )
( I See a Ghost )
Oh, I also got a kick ass book about the Army's invasion of North Africa in World War II and Akira Kurosawa's "Yojimbo." :)
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, August 27th, 2004
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Yesterday, we took a photo of everyone at work out in front of our building for someone's going away plaque. We arranged ourselves with the taller people in back and the shorter people in front. We took a couple of pictures to make sure there was at least one that turned out. Everyone was getting restless for the last one and we were a little more spread out and we were trying to get ourselves regrouped. There was a gap between two of the people in front of me. This woman, who is a civilian contractor working in our office, points to the gap and says this to me:
"Scootch up and stick your face in the crack."
I pause for a moment before telling her, "I'm not even going to touch that comment."
She starts blushing and says, "That's not what I meant."
"Oh, I know what it means," I add.
She blushes more and now everyone is giggling and laughing.
'Scootch up and stick your face in the crack' is now our official motto.
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, August 25th, 2004
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My class graduated last week. It was actually a good graduation. It's funny how I enjoyed it more than any of my own graduations. It was nice to have a day that was all about the students where things were done for them instead of to them. They certainly earned it.
The were even some cool Team Fulton moments. One thing that I didn't expect was that I was recognized as Instructor of the Cycle. I found that out during the rehearsal. There was another class graduating and both Instructors of the Cycle were called up onstage. During the rehearsal, they called the name of the other instructor and then skipped over me. My students got mad. They actually yelled at the graduation organizers that they'd left me out. That made me feel good. I told them not to worry and that I would get called during the real ceremony.
At the end of the ceremony, I was called up on stage, given a certificate and got a big round of applause. I actually enjoyed it. When I was younger I was so shy I would have hated it and been terribly embarrassed. Not any more. I was actually basking in the adulation like some sort of celebrity.
It's funny how much things have changed from a year ago. This time last year, I was deeply depressed, frighteningly self-destructive, and completely heartbroken. Just Check Here, If You Dare It's amazing how much things can change in a year. It's also comforting to know that no matter how low one goes, there's always hope for the future. If I can get to where I am now from where I was then, anything is possible.
Most of my students are gone now. I'm happy that they're now on their way to starting their careers. I saw one at PT this morning. She's leaving for Airborne School tomorrow. I told her to stop by my office today and she actually made in in between all the running around I had to do today. I showed her the pictures of me jumping, downloaded some information for her, and gave her as much advice as I could remember about Airborne School. She's a little concerned, but she'll do fine if she really wants it.
I'm now a grader for three new students. As fate would have it, my team is known as "the girls." Why I was given three women, I'll never know. :P One completed three years at West Point before dropping out, the other--the cutest of the three--used to be a server at Hooters, and then there's the obligatory non-descript one. I kind of know why the one dropped out of West Point, she's very timid, nervous, and sensitive. She's entirely too thin-skinned for my normal sarcasm. The Hooters-girl? Well, she's as dumb as a post. OK, she's not dumb, but she's definitely the worst student of the three, I have to spend a lot of time explaining things to her and I still don't think she understands half of it. The "non-descript girl? She's smart as hell, a great writer, and has a great sense of humor. She's definitely my favorite.
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Comments: Read 16 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
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It’s official, I’m the “man.” And not that bad kind of “man,” who’s always keeping people down and raping the environment, either. I was voted Instructor of the Cycle by my class. Not to sound conceited, but I did expect this. I spent more time with the students than anyone else, if I wasn’t the actual instructor of a class I provided input on it, I spent time with the students in the barracks, and I spent time with the students during their field exercise. If I hadn’t been voted Instructor of the Cycle, I would have been very hurt.
What is surprising—in a very heartwarming way—is margin by which I was selected. It was a landslide of Reagan-Mondale proportions. Nineteen students voted for me. The next highest vote getter got three. There were a few more instructors who rounded things out with one vote apiece. My cult-like following makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
The funny thing is how effortless it was. I simply loved being in the classroom with the students and relating my experiences to them. It’s the best part of my job and spending time with them was always a joy, even when I was dealing with the few problems I had.
They graduate on Thursday, so this week is very bittersweet for me. I’m glad they’ve made it and will be able to move on and be soldiers and am very proud of them, but I’m going to miss them. I already miss them. I wish I could go with them. I can’t help but feel that their devotion to me would enable us to accomplish anything.
I hope there are a lot of family members at the graduation so I can tell them just what their soldiers have accomplished. I’ll probably cry like a little bitch, too. I just hope I don’t punk out and not tell them what a great job they all did and how much I truly enjoyed being their instructor.
Of course, to the other cadre here, I’m now persona non grata due to the fallout from my little job search and my general attitude towards some of the more stupid things going on around here. I’m sure they’re hatin’ about the whole Instructor of the Cycle thing, which is fine by me.
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Comments: Read 7 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, August 13th, 2004
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So, I'm out at the field training site for my class last night and I play a role for one of the interrogators. This guy is not one of MY students, by the way. It lasted three hours and was a hilarious ordeal.
( Should Be a Scene from Catch-22 )
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Comments: Read 7 or Add Your Own.
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I have 24 hours of duty today, so this is probably the best opportunity I have to update my long neglected LiveJournal. I had hoped to post some of my teaching experiences with my first class, but I was too busy teaching to do any real posting on the subject. Now I have another class and I haven’t posted a single thing about the first one. It appears that being busy in a good way is not good for LiveJournal.
( Class 006 )
( Smoke Sessions )
( Goofy Class Stuff )
( The Cult )
( All Good Things Must Come to an End )
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Comments: Read 15 or Add Your Own.
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His name was Chris and he left behind a wife and two children. He died of wounds received in Afghanistan in August 2002. A fragment from a grenade went through his brain. He lived longer than he was supposed to, long enough to be reunited with his wife and his brother. I was fortunate enough to be a part of that reunion and it is still one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.
Memorial Day is a strange holiday. It really should be a very sad and solemn occasion, but it falls during the time of the year when people just can't help but have fun. It also leaves some very important people out of the day's remembrances, the family members of those who have died.
Today's military is a volunteer force. We get to do the things we like to do, get to travel, be a part of a team, see things most people do not, experience excitement, and truly live. For me, it's worth the risks involved to be able to do those things. The family members generally do not get those things and are the ones who are left with shattered lives when those risks are realized.
Chris was a remarkable man and he had a remarkable family. Three weeks before being mortally wounded he ran into a minefield to save the lives of two Afghan children. My account of my journey with Chris and the time I spent with his family is now lost, but I will never forget what happened during that brief time. I will also never forget his family, they suffered a terrible loss and I know that there is nothing anyone can do to ever truly make things better for them. It still doesn't stop me from wishing that I could.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, January 28th, 2004
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When I created this journal, I promised to post a big, long, whiny explanation about a relationship that had ended badly. I started to do that, but then stopped because it was too long and too bitter. I don't really feel like whining about it any more. I'm at peace with how things are right now an am actually happy to be out of a situation that was simply unhealthy for me.
( The Ugly Truth )
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, January 20th, 2004
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I’ve been pondering something lately and wondering where I fit in in the big scheme of things. Actually, I’m wondering if I even fit in at all.
It concerns love and sex, two things that generally go hand in hand. The world seems to be divided into two types of people, those interested in adventurous sexual encounters and those interested in loving relationships. I’d have to say the majority fall into the latter category. The former are what is generally known as “kinky.”
I don’t really know where I fit in, because, although I’m very kinky and open minded, I also value a loving relationship. I guess I’m wondering why the two—kink and love—seem to exclude one another.
I’ve known some wonderfully loving and supportive people in my life and have even been loved by a few of them, but have always felt like some sort of abnormal pervert around them. Most of the times, I just keep my desires to myself to avoid being judged like that.
I’ve also known some kinky and adventurous people in my life. The problem with them is that they’ve shown little concern for my feelings and have cared little about me other then using me for their own pleasure. At its best, a relationship with a kinky person is an exchange of pleasures. At its worst, it’s being lied to and used by someone.
This is where I get left out. I want both. Unfortunately, the people who also want both and have the same sense of sexual adventure that I do are extremely rare. Kinky people seem satisfied with simple physical pleasure and loving people seem shocked by my sexual tastes.
The obvious question is ‘where are the kinky people who are willing to love?’ but there’s another more worrying question, ‘am I actually one of those people who isn’t very loving, isn’t very supportive who selfishly uses others for my own pleasure? I know I don’t want to be and I know I try to be loving and supportive when it’s desired, but have I ever actually succeeded in being that?
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Comments: Read 18 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, January 19th, 2004
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Woo hoo! It's been a while due to the whole poly thing. It was nice. I even got a little nasty and fingered her asshole. She liked it. >:)
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Comments: Read 12 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, December 26th, 2003
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Alright, I need some sort of entry here, so here it is. It's a whiny post, full of self-pity, but it's all I got for right now. I should have something funnier or sexier soon.
Stolen from: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8) krazedkitty
( End of Year Quiz )
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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curious.
amused.
mischievous.
contemplative.
good.