It turned out to be just a *wonderful* endeavor, taking five hours wednesday and four hours or so thursday. At least it gives me a nice little block to emphasize on my NCOER (Noncommissioned Office Evaluation Report) for the year. God how time is flying by. One year ago I was about to begin PLDC to become an NCO. Now I've just had my three year service ribbon sewn on my uniform, and my good conduct medal (also a three year award) submitted...Although on that last...well I've had my small share of fuck ups that I got called on during my enlistment. 

The ball itself wasn't so bad. I had a plan and I stuck to it quite markedly well...start drinking early and get blitzed beyond all recognition. About the last thing I remember was the last bite of my prime rib dinner (and that's about all I remember of the meal to be honest), and then waking up in my small clothes, completely uncovered on top of my bed, at 0818 on Friday. I not only woke up, i WOKE up...one of those wakenings where you don't even stop for a moment to consider going back to sleep--you just inherently know you're up for the day.

About a week ago the JAG community here had a christmas/retirement dinner for one of the MLC (local contractors) where we also had a gift exchange...one of those blind No more Expensive than $10.00 things where everyone gets to pass things around before they get opened. My gift, a quite lovely candle in a vase/cup holder got passed around the most. I had a bit of a laugh about that one...hell I liked the thing--picked up an extra one for me. 

The holiday season hasn't been so bad really, even being so far from family. There's been such a large hubbub about things to do, work and non work related things, incidences, dinners, etc. Gone out with D a few times...dismal outtings really...We have been searching around for a nice, new little bar to call home lately with absolutely zero luck. Earlier this past afternoon we went out on a bycle ride that was quite nice though...I took him out on what we call the "Rennaisance Route" due to the Rennaisance hotel being the turn around point...knowing full well that he was not in really good shape for it...so I had us stop and walk around the hotel and a few other places. The hotel/resort was much nicer than I had originally believed from my drive bys. They had a really beautiful lobbey complete with large exotic birds and festive decorations. The hotel had their own dolphins you could sign up to feed and go snorkeling with (for a hefty price, of course). D and I watched the dolphins for a bit before heading back home.

Haven't been abel to dive at all in the past few weeks...the surf has been too rough, making entries nad exits too dangerous, not to mention strong currents even underwater and poor visibility.

I opened one of the gifts my parents sent me. Lo and behold my father begifted me his old dive knife. When he was stationed at Exmouth while in the Navy we used to skin dive a lot. About the only thing he kept over the years was his knife and I remember as a little boy how I used to marvel over it sitting out in the garage. It's actually quite a warm feeling to have my father give that knife to me, blunt as it may be, the original sheath having rotted away so long ago. To be honest the blade is far longer than the 3 inch limit -- which means I'm not supposed to have it. (As if I honestly care about whether or not I'm supposed to have it.) Holding it in my hands and picturing the first time I go out into the water with it strapped to my inner calf...carrying a piece of my father's past with me, hereditary, I guess is the best way to put it. This is the closest thing I have to a family heirloom I suppose and there's a very strong sense of pride and joy that I felt on opening that package. 

As I've gotten older, and this is something my father and I have even discussed amongst ourselves a bit, I have realized just how alike my father and I are. I have led a very similar life to the one my father has led. Of course there have been markable differances--my crazy concert lust, bachelordome (still), literary pinings, lack of skills in electronics...but the similarities--creed of honor, physical appearance and voice (I have often been mistaken for my father over the phone, and been commented numerous times on how much I look like my father did at this age), introverted nature, paganism, function over form mentality...We both lost direction/satisfaction in college and joined the military in quest of something new...and if I go into law like I plan, we'll both have found our different callings during our enlisted years. Both of us will have made the grade of E5 and seen various parts of the world...my father actually did even spend a short period of time at Okinawa so many years ago. Now there are some things I have from my father that were pretty much instilled in me by my upbringing...my dislike of professional athletes and love of Bond flicks, quite likely my (non)religious nature. There are also some things that my father has gained along his life apart from mine that draws us together--his realizations after John's death that life is short, money is nothing more than a fleeting thing, and that "one day" might just never come, realizations I gained a long time ago. 

Having my father's knife now...it just really means a lot to me--a physical way to connect his past to my future. I am proud of my father...I have been for a very long time now. I was never really one of those kind of children driven to need his parent's pride in him...but as the years have progressed it is something that has weighed on my consciousness more and more. I love my parents so much and don't want to dissapoint them. They gave so much when they had so so little and I want them to know how appreciated and worthwhile it all has been.

How old is one before they really feel like an adult? I mean...i've known that I AM an adult...I've been an adult and known it for years and years now...but I don't particually FEEL like one. I still feel like a dopey little kid a lot of the time. I still feel like this is all game, that I haven't really seen the truth of it all...even as I know just how much truth I really have seen, how much of life I really do think I understand...I can't help but feel overawed by everything. A third of my life is over, done, kaput...and I am constantly amazed at other lives, other lifestyles, other things to do. I see and hear about so many people and places and events and my life feels so small, unnoteworthy, and boring even. People that skydive...not static line parachuting, but actually free fall. Rock stars, club owners, record shop keepers, professors, poet laureates, published authors...how many lives have I wanted to lead? How many more will I want to lead before I've led the one I could? How many meaningful lives will I neglect? I look back on everything I've done and everything that's happened, and it's eventful, and even exciting in places...but it's all rather blase really...I've never truly held a cross or championed a cause..never gone the absolute distance for anything...for nothing at all.

Special Forces soldiers--men I work with on a daily basis, that have spent months of their lives deep in the jungle with foreign soldiers--living with them, becoming part of their culture, training them, defeating their enemies with them. I see these men everyday and I am awed by them, by what they do for their families and for our country. It makes me feel so small and insignificant. I think about how little I do compared to them and that small pride I feel in serving goes out the window. I do nothing compared to these guys--I push paper around, type memos, prepare and file casework. I hound commanders about parking ticket deadlines and reports of disciplinary action while they hound their men about HALO training for an upcoming counter drug mission in south eastern asia, about communication operations for use while deep behind "enemy lines", about MOUT training and Jungle Warfare skills and close quarters combat operations. 

I think about these men that have families they see maybe six months out of the year, about these men that, now, may be placed in the path of a terrorists sights and be killed thousands of miles from home, from family, from the country they protect. I think about these men and their bravado and their swagger and I envy them their task, because it is real...and my task is such a load of shit compared to theirs. That is why, when people go gogga to me about my service, I shrug it off. I don't feel like I really HAVE served...not like these SF guys, not like the Rangers have served. I work a papertrail, and yes, it's neccessary unfortunetly...but nothing to sing praise over.

Part of me wants to be like those guys...a large part of me wants to know that I AM serving, that I AM fighting that good fight, not just getting signatures on memos or forwarding actions. It's the part of me that wanted to sign up as infantry when I first walked into that recruiter's office back in June 1998. Then there's always the part of me that wins out, the soft side, the side that likes the office job, the paper trail, that gets praise for doing nothing more than wearing fatigues. That is the part of that takes pride when I do a good job, the part that feels a sense of respect from my comrades for the job I do, from the commanders who turn to me to help them remove a shit bag soldier for their unit, for their army...

What an apt way to phrase it..."their army". Could I really call it "my army?" 

I wrote earlier, some day at some point, or maybe I am only imagining that I wrote it? but I (believed I wrote) that being alone during the holidays isn't quite as bad as I had feared it would be...

But the plain fact of the matter is that it does. in fact it is JUST as bad, if not worse, than I had feared. I miss the christmas tree at my parent's house. I miss all the holiday decorations my mom puts up every year...I miss driving around town and looking at all the lights and decorations that Other people have put up. I miss being in the states and seeing all the christmassy sweaters and everything. I miss sitting around the tree drinking coffee, handing out presents and getting presents. I miss watching others open the gift I got for them. All the cheer and good will and peace on earth...I haven't really seen any of that this year...maybe it's just because I'm just so lonely right now, at this moment...Maybe it's because I have nowhere to go for christmas dinner, no-one to sit with and drink coffee with together in our bathrobes and pjs with hair all tussled from sleep. I miss the "Beer Stockings" -- that last tradition that always tops it, seeing what kinds of exotic beers mom has gotten for father and I...and then sharing that beer with dad over the next few days. I just miss my family. I feel so isolated and alone over here right now...the one time of year where everyone is with their family, the time when old grudges can finally be set aside, when forgiveness weighs every on every hand--here I sit, alone...utterly alone.

I hate this. I hate hate hate this. You shouldn't ever have to feel this way on christmas...especially not when you have people you truly love and care about. 

Despite all my better judgement I couldn't fight back the urge to buy some cigarettes. Being alone tonight it's just too hard, far to hard.

----

My parents just called so at least I got to talk to them for a few minutes. I had thought they were going to call tommorrow morning so I was quite happily surprised. I so miss seeing them though. 

current mood:  depressed
current music: Random -- Enya, EbtG (x2), couple others I can't remember 

taliana 
2001-12-26 10:09 
I imagine it would be so difficult to be away from those you love over the Holidays. Wish everyone could be with their friends and family. 

You *are* doing a great service for our country. You may not be doing what you consider more important, but you are doing a very necessary thing...something that I couldn't even begin to dream of doing...and I, for one, am very grateful. Thank you. (And don't argue with me, here. :)) 
 

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