infantry

Today was a relatively relaxed day here. It was PT-- mostly push-ups. Breakfast. Then we got to head to the Infantry Museum. Walking through exhibits about extraordinary men made me think about my ancestors whose stories I never heard. I think my grandma's twin brother and another brother died in WWII. My grandfather on the other side was a naval plane mechanic. My dad was in the finance corps in Vietnam. Even if I had heard their stories before I couldn't understand them like I might now.

Seeing infantry heros makes me think about what they have that I don't. 1. Coordination (seriously) 2. Courage to run towards instead of away from danger 3. Confidence. 4. Willingness to be extremely uncomfortable. I admire the guys here who are choosing that life. Females can't be infantry, and now I feel a little guilty that I don't want to be. I also feel (at least today) that even if I don't make it through OCS that I still owe the country my 3 years serving as enlisted to fulfill my commitment.

less interpretation

It dawned on me that someday I may want to remember the actual events that happened here and not just use the old blog for inspired impressions. So...

Today started well as I was chosen to attend a breakfast with OCS graduates who were being inducted into the OCS Hall of Fame. We were supposed to mingle and get to hear their war tales. Sadly, only one veteran showed up. Happily, I still got to eat a leisurely breakfast with coffee!! Than it was off to a team obstacle course where we tooks turns in crazy problem solving involving boards, ropes, and moving people over water. I contributed least to my team but am glad I have a really strong team. Took a test over Call for Fire (how to order an antillery team to bring in the big guns). Then I freaked out about the fact that squads do peer evaluations this weekend, and I could get lowest rated because the guys in my squad all went to basic together and are best battles. Sought guidance from my infantry friend who said I'm not weird enough to be worried about ratings. He did confirm my suspicions that leadership is practicing social darwinism and trying to push hard enough on running, sprints, and rucking to shake out people with any possible physical weakness or injury. 5 females have gotten kicked out in the last 48 hours. I just was informed I get my first go at leadership next week as team leader. 2nd platoon-- get ready to feel the love. The counselor is taking over!

New Vital Stats

Favorite Song: I Will Survive has replaced Peaceful Easy Feeling (this fact summarizes everything about OCS)
Favorite Time of Day: Taking boots off now replaces sunset over Garden of the Gods
Favorite Dessert: the saltines I pretend are cookies have replaced Chunky Monkey
Favorite Food: peanut butter served in tiny packets has replaced chips & salsa
Favorite Outfit: PT shorts, t-shirt, flipflops, & fleece winter PT hat has replaced sundress
Favorite Quote: Our drill sergeants made us eat sawdust and expected us to poop two by fours (that's just classically good)
Favorite Social Event: The ten minutes of meet and greet before and after church on Sundays have replaced happy hour in my backyard
Favorite hobby: sit-ups and stretching have replaced book clubs
Favorite color: the pink on my notebook cover & sneakers has replaced yellow

Man's World

Can I live well in a man's world? I'm in a platoon of 40 made up of approximately 25% females. We have 17 leadership positions. 15 of those are filled by males. One of the females in leadership is chief paperwork collector. I'm bitter-- I admit it. It's a man's world. I would be singing the blues tonight if I had an audience and a slinky black dress.
Imagine with bass and harmonica:

I sing a man's cadence
I wear a man's clothes
I march to a long stride
I don't cringe at rude jokes

And it's sooo hard
Living where I'm less than the dudes
I've got the basic, basic, basic candidate blues

Georgia

Curious about the experience of whoever wrote Georgia on my Mind. They probably visited in October or January or sometime they needed a respite from the cold and snow in Cincinnati. Not summer when it's so humid you spend all day sweating, drinking sports drinks, and having to pee from the hydration efforts. Maybe they had air conditioning and a big pool. We here at Delta live on the 3rd floor, sleep on wool blankets, and have to wear long sleeves, pants, and wool hats every day. It's made room 374 declare itself a nudist colony for 5 minutes every day. Now I know the author of Midnight Train to Georgia was truly anguished over leaving L.A., and the pain in her voice meant he was leaving in the summer.

Cool Like You

Today we learned fun factoids about other people in our class. The group don't look intimidating, but looks can be deceiving. Among the candidates we have: a bull rider, an Versace underwear model, a musician who played on American Idol, a Bowflex model for TV infomercials, a former UN staffer, someone whose photos have been in National Geographic 3 times, a CNN foreign correspondent, a jazz musician, and someone who used to do voiceovers for American commercials playing in China. I am flannel. They are sequins. with beads and glitter and special lighting. We're told they'll drop 25% of us out of the class. Yikes! Time to become spectacular.

Here We Go

Today I classed up at OCS. Gone are the days of leisurely meals, reading, and waiting for life to pick up the pace. It's hurry, hurry, threat, threat now. But I'm grateful to be in motion. When I arrived I couldn't see doing this without Kinney. Then she left. So I built a little bit of new community. But we didn't all class up together. I fear some of the more remarkable candidates have been overlooked for people who will not do well here. And I feel like the instinct to take care of soldiers makes me want to fix everything for the friends I left behind. But back to the good--God pulled a rabbit out of his hat and gave me a 287 on my AFPT test today. My friend Sproul is my roommate. I now own a velcro-on ascot, which looks ridiculous but connotes progress. Forward march.

Position Open

Highlight of my week was a job offer from my friends Shannon and Paul, as follows:

Dear Officer Candidate:

I am writing to notify you that there is a position open as Commander of our small child. The pay is not competitive and the hours are long, but the company is small (one baby, one flat-coat retriever, one smelly cat) and therefore, quite manageable.

Perks of this position:

Rooming comes with PS3 gaming system and includes newest version of popular games, Madden '10 and Gran Turismo (Paul must have written this part if viewed as perk)

Homemade chocolate chip cookies

No push-ups...unless you want to

Japanese-engineered vehicle to drive-- remarkably similar to the one you sold (she has a red CRV)

Sex and the City DVD Box set on hand

A multitude of baby hugs and giggles

This job sounds so tempting. I miss being around people who love me. And Shannon is an excellent baker and very good company. I met aforementioned baby right after she was born and am sure she will be remarkable.

Side note: Benefit of the doubt-- If boys hide your laundry bag, pull on your hair, make fun of your shoes, and kick you in a sneaky but not too hard way maybe it just means they need female attention and you're their only hope of getting it.

Man's World

Getting taken off school detail has proven to be a blessing in disguise. Since the holdovers are considered guinea pigs and dispensable for any whim, some of us were taken to a park to practice playing games for an office retreat the battalion staff will go on later this week. They wanted to time us to see how long the games would take. In typical Army fashion, departure was moved up by one hour at the last minute, the driver got lost, and we spent 6 hours at the park to be involved in an hour and a half of activity. Plenty of time to sit on swings, walk in the woods, and story swap.

I was at a loss today in trying to stay flexible about living in a man's world. They don't understand why I wanted to go to the dentist and get my teeth cleaned. If the teeth don't hurt, why fix them? They hate my hot pink running shoes and claim the color burns their eyes. I got called Princess last week for wanting to order vegetables with my lunch. Eyes rolled when I asked about an iron since I was told to wear khaki pants on Thursday. The pink shoes may need to be retired until I can get them a little dirty or faded.

Sunday Funday

Growing up I was always confused as to why the Bangles considered Sunday to be her fun day. In my house, it was the most dreadedly slow day of the week. Fussy clothes, long church service, parents fighting about being on time, long lunch, lots of dishes from long lunch, then rest. Rest meant that God made us take a day off from watching TV, being loud, or playing with friends. Then because my parents were Southern Baptist, they put in for extra credit by making us attend church again at night.

Sundays have always been a challenge for my attention span. Even as an adult attending an Anglican church, I would find myself bored to tears by the long service and need to create my own short recess mid-liturgy to wander around outside and hope for a quick move to communion where the good music started again.

Sundays at HHC are also a long day. The mornings are great--no PT, church with friends, music, donuts, & coffee. But then it's back the cage at 10:30 for a long day of nothing. Reading, watching 30 Rock on my laptop, sweating in an old builidng with no air conditioning. Maybe I'm too midwestern to relax, but I'm ready for Monday rush to begin.

Dorm Life

On the odd day here life at holdover company has moments of feeling like college dorm life. Today we got the odd break of getting to go in vans to shop at the post exchange for an hour. Females seem to have reached their limit with man life and made a mad rush for the beauty salon, body spray and cosmetics. I knew I had reached my limit with boots and camo when I bought new running shoes that are bright pink. Even one of the guys stocked up on room freshener, a loofah, and the febreze he thought the whole male latrine would benefit from. Then it was back for a light lunch of iceberg lettuce and jello on trays. Tonight we got early release for free time. This finds us drenched in body spray, clad in shorts and t-shirts, and clutching pillows as we sit in front of a laptop watching Anchor Man. Guys are downstairs having a foosball tourney. Life rewinds back to freshman year in Boer-Bennick dorm's basement.

Recovery

Last night since I pulled an overnight detail, I was released on Recovery today. It is the most unmilitary of all assignments. I got an immunity sign to hang on my door so leadership would leave me along. This left me complete freedom to eat when I wanted to, wear my hair long and soft around my shoulders, read, and sleep all day. No formations, no cleaning, no ACUs. My mom sent a great package with peanut M&Ms. We're allowed candy here as long as we eat it/share it immediately and don't take any upstairs. All in all, a pretty good day at HHC.

Rules

It was a day at the elementary surrounded by picture books, worksheets, and fun art. Everything was low key since the kids are on spring break. Sadly I returned back to the barracks to find that new rules were instituted while I was gone. No more coffee to drink between meals, an earlier wake-up time, and signs in the hallways marking where the females live so the males can't cross the line to visit. I think said males are working out right now and grunting extra loud to remind of their presence a few doors down. I also got a scary text. A fellow member of my company was at the medical clinic and saw one of my drill sergeants. Here. At Fort Benning. Not far,far away in South Carolina where he's supposed to be. The craziest one. Who got things knocked around too much in the head. I clearly need a guard dog.

Directions

There are various directions my life could take at this point. As I find comfort in planning, these are the scenarios I'm running through.

1. Life goes North: I class up with Delta on 4/18. I learn how to climb a rope. I become amazing at night land navigation. I discover confidence, aggression, and faster legs. I look good in an ascot, graduate, and life goes as intended.

2. Life goes South: I either don't class up with Delta or board out. I am forced to go to AIT where I have to learn how to fix things. I never tell them it takes me a good half hour to install windshield wipers (or decide to ask for help). I take a new identity similar to Kenneth on 30 Rock. I go by Krissy, say I've never left Illinois until Basic, and have just failed out of nail tech school and think books othere than The Shack and Twilight are tools of the devil. Hate living in barracks and marry an illegal immigrant so they get a green card and I can live off base.

3. Life goes West. I chapter out of the Army. I move to Ann Arbor to work at brother-in-law's bank call center. Depressing winter weather causes addiction to tanning beds. Depressing job makes me start collecting beanie babies and forwarding emails with life lessons and pictures of cats. I wear khaki pants, pastel t-shirts, and get a wedge haircut.

4. Life goes East. I join the PeaceCorp if they'll have me. I get dreadlocks and wear long skirts. I reconsider my position on tattoos.

Let me know if I'm missing any of the obvious options.

BCGs

Sorry the posts may get boring here. Just trying to document my life now so I remember. Day started with a run. I heard rumors that run days were rough here and expected the worst as a friend got injured buddy carrying someone 1.5 miles. We hauled at fast pace to cardiac hill and went up in sprints, running backwards, and lunges. Not easy but certainly not impossible. Quick shower and off to the elementary to haul boxes of textbooks around all day. Confession: It's just frustrating at this point to be surrounded by males all the time with strict no fraternization rules. I should be rebounding to feel better about no Greg. There are good dating candidates here. I have to pretend they're all diseased. Even when I think I'm alone, I'm not. I went to the back courtyard to do sit-ups tonight. Nobody else from my dorm was outside. It was a rare moment of silence and solitude. Until a guy from the Airborne dorm across the way opened his window and yelled out to cheer me on. I haven't had remarkable conversations with anyone, but I'm trying to tread shallow water to stay disinterested. I thought it would be helpful to pull out my bcgs (birth control glasses- see photo above) tonight for final formation. Commentary from guys in my platoon-- you look like the secretary guys talk about in the break room saying, "I wonder if she's a freak." Must maintain aura of mystery.

Incarceration

This is how life goes now. Wake up early. Meet in courtyard for PT. Wear uniform. Eat off tray. Clean all morning. Eat off tray. Clean all afternoon. Eat off tray. Clean and hope to get released early for more working out, showering, laundry, and one phone call. Lights out. Sleep with door open so your head on pillow is visible from the hall at all times. Did Uncle Sam really want me? The break in the routine is that due to my degree I get to volunteer at an elementary school 5 days a week. Essentially, I'm right back where I was before joining the military. Glorified room mom. Overeducated cleaning lady. I hope redemption finds me here.