Whoopsie. I thought I had posted something in April. Apparently I was wrong. I am now residing at delightful Camp Dwyer in the lovely Helmand Province with a couple of boatloads of Marines. Oh hells yeah! But most blog sites are blocked by my company's stupid network, so I cannot post anything. I am on the pay-for-play network at the moment, so this is just a quick post to let you know I am still alive.
I am going on R&R next week and will compose a couple of proper blog posts detailing the last few months. Well, maybe not detail ... I'll summarize.
Kisses and hugs, love you mean it, bye!
Showing posts with label Afghanistan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Afghanistan. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
An Entertaining Cast of Characters
People are interesting. There is always something about them that makes them interesting. Whether it is their personality, their past, the things that come out of their brains, or the way they see things, you can usually find something interesting in everyone. Naturally, you have to have a little extra crazy in your DNA to want to come to Afghanistan for work, but that little extra crazy makes life fun here.
There is: Nate's carefree outlook on life that I admire and resent all at the same time; Jason's constant battle between liking being the nice guy that all the girls want and being the badass he thinks would be more fun; Lisa's odd desire to convince everyone that Arizona doesn't suck and that Tool is the best band ever in the history of music; Chris' neverending selection of stories about killing things and being a pimp; Jeff's cute way of being terrified of me (no idea why, I am mostly harmless, and I have a little crush on him, so I wouldn't hurt him anyway); Sean's way of being really odd, but really cool at the same time; Justin's ability to look menacing walking down the road, but when you talk to him, you just kinda wanna cuddle him, because he's awesome; the Chief's ability to make everything come back to the Air Force, even though we are working for the Army; Brian's tireless dedication to doing absolutely anything he can to make the lives of the soldiers here a little bit easier; Jim's undying love of telling us how to use the toilet properly; the Mayor, who gives great hugs; the LSO, who I hope will come back at some point so we can eat my queso (of course, I need Papa Bear (not my dad) to get to Wilson so he can get me some Tostitos first); Cute Soldier, who was fun to hang out with for a while; Papa Bear (again, not my dad), who is entertaining as hell and wisely teaches young Privates about mud angels; Nell, who is back home safe now, though I wish she was still my tentmate, because she would have killed the stupid chicks for me long ago; the entire fire department Mafia, who are awesome, but I think they could make us all disappear without a trace; that d-fac guy who memorizes everyone's last 4 when they sign in for meals ... although it might just be the girls; the other d-fac guy that seems to think it a personal affront when I ask for "just a little bit" of anything; Mr. Kim, the laundry supervisor who no one can understand, but is always friendly; Mike, who usually says, "Yup, we'll do that", before anyone can even ask; the short Sergeant Major I really want to pick up and cuddle, because he is so cute and little, though I suspect, he wouldn't appreciate as much as I think he should; the other Sergeant Major who I made laugh when I apologized for "Sir'ing" him, instead of "Sergeant Major'ing" him (my daddy raised me right, I Sir or Ma'am just about everyone); the 101st guys that taught me about the "Manchester" game (it didn't catch on in the fire department like I think it should have); the cute, clueless EOD guy that was helping us fix the internet (Um, that was me flirting with you ... duh); Steve, who, along with Jeff, made me ... *made* me ... look up chili corn dog in the Urban Dictionary; Fletcher, our own personal leprechaun, who could make the most stoic man laugh his ass off; Tali-Dan's mad ninja skills and apparent ability to be drunk, sunburned, and tattooed all at the same time; and so many more.
Of course, *I* think the most important people around here are the ones in camo that keep us safe. I kind of wish I had the chance to get to know more of them, but then again, I'm not sure I could stay here and do my job if they all had names attached to their faces for me. Sometimes I wonder how incredibly strong of a man the Chaplain must be. He knows all his soldiers ... I'm not sure I could handle the pressure of knowing that any of them could be gone at any moment.
There are so many people here that bring such interesting and variety to the world. It would be difficult to list them all, but suffice to say, they keep me entertained.
Wow. Three posts in one day ... hopefully this makes up for being absent for almost a month! :)
There is: Nate's carefree outlook on life that I admire and resent all at the same time; Jason's constant battle between liking being the nice guy that all the girls want and being the badass he thinks would be more fun; Lisa's odd desire to convince everyone that Arizona doesn't suck and that Tool is the best band ever in the history of music; Chris' neverending selection of stories about killing things and being a pimp; Jeff's cute way of being terrified of me (no idea why, I am mostly harmless, and I have a little crush on him, so I wouldn't hurt him anyway); Sean's way of being really odd, but really cool at the same time; Justin's ability to look menacing walking down the road, but when you talk to him, you just kinda wanna cuddle him, because he's awesome; the Chief's ability to make everything come back to the Air Force, even though we are working for the Army; Brian's tireless dedication to doing absolutely anything he can to make the lives of the soldiers here a little bit easier; Jim's undying love of telling us how to use the toilet properly; the Mayor, who gives great hugs; the LSO, who I hope will come back at some point so we can eat my queso (of course, I need Papa Bear (not my dad) to get to Wilson so he can get me some Tostitos first); Cute Soldier, who was fun to hang out with for a while; Papa Bear (again, not my dad), who is entertaining as hell and wisely teaches young Privates about mud angels; Nell, who is back home safe now, though I wish she was still my tentmate, because she would have killed the stupid chicks for me long ago; the entire fire department Mafia, who are awesome, but I think they could make us all disappear without a trace; that d-fac guy who memorizes everyone's last 4 when they sign in for meals ... although it might just be the girls; the other d-fac guy that seems to think it a personal affront when I ask for "just a little bit" of anything; Mr. Kim, the laundry supervisor who no one can understand, but is always friendly; Mike, who usually says, "Yup, we'll do that", before anyone can even ask; the short Sergeant Major I really want to pick up and cuddle, because he is so cute and little, though I suspect, he wouldn't appreciate as much as I think he should; the other Sergeant Major who I made laugh when I apologized for "Sir'ing" him, instead of "Sergeant Major'ing" him (my daddy raised me right, I Sir or Ma'am just about everyone); the 101st guys that taught me about the "Manchester" game (it didn't catch on in the fire department like I think it should have); the cute, clueless EOD guy that was helping us fix the internet (Um, that was me flirting with you ... duh); Steve, who, along with Jeff, made me ... *made* me ... look up chili corn dog in the Urban Dictionary; Fletcher, our own personal leprechaun, who could make the most stoic man laugh his ass off; Tali-Dan's mad ninja skills and apparent ability to be drunk, sunburned, and tattooed all at the same time; and so many more.
Of course, *I* think the most important people around here are the ones in camo that keep us safe. I kind of wish I had the chance to get to know more of them, but then again, I'm not sure I could stay here and do my job if they all had names attached to their faces for me. Sometimes I wonder how incredibly strong of a man the Chaplain must be. He knows all his soldiers ... I'm not sure I could handle the pressure of knowing that any of them could be gone at any moment.
There are so many people here that bring such interesting and variety to the world. It would be difficult to list them all, but suffice to say, they keep me entertained.
Wow. Three posts in one day ... hopefully this makes up for being absent for almost a month! :)
Outboard Motors, Lake and Rivers, and the Reality of War Zones
Sorry it has been so long since I posted. I just keep forgetting. The days all blend together these days, so I know it is about time for a vacation! Only another 60-ish days! Woohoo!
So on to the entertaining stuff. Most days are pretty routine around here. I am rudely awakened by the stupid chick that turns on her light at 5am, I put my sleep mask on, roll over and go back to sleep. My alarm goes off at 7, I hit snooze a couple of times, roll out of bed around 7:30, go take a shower, get ready for work, drop my stuff off at work, go to the d-fac to grab a bowl of cereal and some milk, go back to the conex/office, and settle in for a day of mind-numbing ... uh ... work. It's pretty uneventful most days.
Every now and then, we get a little excitement. No new incoming to report since the first one, but outgoing is always fun, because it still freaks people out. I have learned to tell the difference, but only after the first one has already gone. One day, the camo folk decided it would be a nice time to install some more in-ground swimming pools in the area. So all evening, we had outgoing. Sometimes there would be a break between sets and they would announce over the base loud speaker that there was outgoing, before the next set. Usually, we can't understand a damn thing that comes out of the speaker. Most of the time it is just too quiet. Other times, I am pretty sure the guy making the announcements has the microphone actually in his mouth when he makes the announcements. Well, it was a "microphone in the mouth" announcement kind of night. We heard the siren part ... that's the "hey, we're about to say something that may affect your life" alert ... and then some garbled English. We'll assume it was English, anyway. When I heard the siren, I stuck my head out the door of the conex, so I could hear the announcement. I heard the announcement, didn't understand it, and one of the boys said, "I'm pretty sure they just said we have outboard motors". Naturally, we wondered where they were getting the boats, and then we heard the mortars. Outgoing mortars sound totally different than outboard motors. We chuckled, and realized they said "outbound mortars". No boats, though they would have come in handy a few days ago.
So the mortars continued on until about midnight that night. I was trying desperately to sleep, but after the mortars stopped, the construction started and continued until around 3am. Good times. Here's where it got funny. Around 5am, Instead of being awakened by the stupid chick's light, I was awakened by the siren. We can't hear what it says in the tent, but then I heard a boom. "Ah, outgoing mortars", I thought to myself, as I rolled over and closed my eyes. A couple of minutes later, a lot more outgoing mortars started leaving. Then I heard a ruckus. There are 9 women in my tent. 7 of the 9 freaked the hell out, grabbed their vests and helmets, and ran out to the bunker in a panic. Security Lisa and I stayed in bed and yelled that they were outgoing, a couple of times. Then I saw Lisa's feet hit the floor. For a moment, I thought she was going out to the bunker too, and I was stunned, because I know she knows the difference between incoming and outgoing. Instead, her feet walked into my room, and she came and laid down in my bed with me. She curls up and says, "Why are they being SO LOUD?!" I replied, "They're mortars, honey, they're always loud". To which she replied, "Not them. The stupid GIRLS. I'm TRYING to sleep!" SO we giggled about that for a little while, she went back to bed, and eventually, the rest of the girls came out of the bunker. That still makes me laugh.
Along the same lines, Lisa and I had a fairly surreal conversation last night. It went something like this:
KA-BOOM
Me: Hmmm ... that was a boom.
Lisa: Meh, it was just outgoing.
Me: No, that definitely wasn't outgoing. Maybe a controlled det.
Lisa: Are you sure it wasn't outgoing?
Me: Definitely not outgoing, I felt the ground shake a little. You don't feel that with outgoing from here.
Lisa: Yeah, you're right. Maybe it was a controlled det.
Me: Yeah, either that or a bomb just outside the wire.
Lisa: Probably. Definitely wasn't on the FOB though.
Me: Nah, it was too far away to be incoming.
A few seconds pass
Me: *laugh*
Lisa: What?
Me: Do you realize we just had a perfectly calm conversation about the source of an explosion that was close enough that we could feel it?
Lisa: *laugh* Yeah, I suppose we did.
Me: Is this bad?
Lisa: Probably.
And that, my friends, is the reality of war zones. If you are paying attention, you learn to distinguish the sources of the various ka-booms and ka-blowies pretty quickly. I also recognize the difference between a forklift or a crane setting a metal conex down roughly and a ka-boom. Not everyone has that down yet. It's pretty funny. Most of the time, when we hear a ka-boom, we get up, go look outside for the cloud, and then go about our business. Though, I suppose that once things pick up around here, probably starting next month, we'll stop looking for the cloud and start heading for the bunker. That'll be fun. And there will be better stories!
And then the rain came. It has rained here before, but it was just sprinkles, just enough to tease me with humidity, and then it dried up and went away. This wasn't like that. It rained a lot. For a while. Turns out, our base is built in a lovely dry river bed. Well, dry most of the time river bed. We do, in fact, have a rainy season. And it hit us with force the end of last week. It rained for about two days straight. There were very few places around her that weren't flooded. Highway 1, just outside the base, was at a standstill for a while, because it was flooded. Super good times. So what did we do? We're the fire department ... we pumped most of the water off the FOB. Yup. For two days in a row, we were pumping water out of everywhere. The guys were pretty damn awesome. They kept the camo folks tents from flooding and their generators from being waterlogged, so they could come back from missions to warm, dry tents. They pumped water out of the mortar pits so we could make more in-ground swimming pools, and fill them up with water! There were a couple of places, I swear to the gods, you would have actually been able to kayak. I think you might have been able to make it around about half of the base, before you had to get out of your kayak and reposition to another lake. The good part about the whole experience? I finally got to wear my rainboots. They are so awesome! And loads of people looked at me funny. Well, funnier than normal. :)
Here are some photos from the flooding:
We pumped an estimated 1/2 a million gallons of water out of the FOB. Go us! And by us, I mean the boys, because I was sitting in my warm, dry conex office watching movies. Well, except for the field trip I took out into the expansion after dark to bring the chief some glow sticks and his reflective vest. That was fun. Squishing my way around a couple of acres in the dark, in the rain. Good times. :)
Anywho, this post is probably long enough for now. It doesn't have the entertaining cast of characters, as promised in the last short post, but perhaps that needs to be another post! :)
So rest assured, I am alive and well. Things aren't all that bad around here at the moment, but as always, the world can go to shit at any moment! Live life on the edge!
So on to the entertaining stuff. Most days are pretty routine around here. I am rudely awakened by the stupid chick that turns on her light at 5am, I put my sleep mask on, roll over and go back to sleep. My alarm goes off at 7, I hit snooze a couple of times, roll out of bed around 7:30, go take a shower, get ready for work, drop my stuff off at work, go to the d-fac to grab a bowl of cereal and some milk, go back to the conex/office, and settle in for a day of mind-numbing ... uh ... work. It's pretty uneventful most days.
Every now and then, we get a little excitement. No new incoming to report since the first one, but outgoing is always fun, because it still freaks people out. I have learned to tell the difference, but only after the first one has already gone. One day, the camo folk decided it would be a nice time to install some more in-ground swimming pools in the area. So all evening, we had outgoing. Sometimes there would be a break between sets and they would announce over the base loud speaker that there was outgoing, before the next set. Usually, we can't understand a damn thing that comes out of the speaker. Most of the time it is just too quiet. Other times, I am pretty sure the guy making the announcements has the microphone actually in his mouth when he makes the announcements. Well, it was a "microphone in the mouth" announcement kind of night. We heard the siren part ... that's the "hey, we're about to say something that may affect your life" alert ... and then some garbled English. We'll assume it was English, anyway. When I heard the siren, I stuck my head out the door of the conex, so I could hear the announcement. I heard the announcement, didn't understand it, and one of the boys said, "I'm pretty sure they just said we have outboard motors". Naturally, we wondered where they were getting the boats, and then we heard the mortars. Outgoing mortars sound totally different than outboard motors. We chuckled, and realized they said "outbound mortars". No boats, though they would have come in handy a few days ago.
So the mortars continued on until about midnight that night. I was trying desperately to sleep, but after the mortars stopped, the construction started and continued until around 3am. Good times. Here's where it got funny. Around 5am, Instead of being awakened by the stupid chick's light, I was awakened by the siren. We can't hear what it says in the tent, but then I heard a boom. "Ah, outgoing mortars", I thought to myself, as I rolled over and closed my eyes. A couple of minutes later, a lot more outgoing mortars started leaving. Then I heard a ruckus. There are 9 women in my tent. 7 of the 9 freaked the hell out, grabbed their vests and helmets, and ran out to the bunker in a panic. Security Lisa and I stayed in bed and yelled that they were outgoing, a couple of times. Then I saw Lisa's feet hit the floor. For a moment, I thought she was going out to the bunker too, and I was stunned, because I know she knows the difference between incoming and outgoing. Instead, her feet walked into my room, and she came and laid down in my bed with me. She curls up and says, "Why are they being SO LOUD?!" I replied, "They're mortars, honey, they're always loud". To which she replied, "Not them. The stupid GIRLS. I'm TRYING to sleep!" SO we giggled about that for a little while, she went back to bed, and eventually, the rest of the girls came out of the bunker. That still makes me laugh.
Along the same lines, Lisa and I had a fairly surreal conversation last night. It went something like this:
KA-BOOM
Me: Hmmm ... that was a boom.
Lisa: Meh, it was just outgoing.
Me: No, that definitely wasn't outgoing. Maybe a controlled det.
Lisa: Are you sure it wasn't outgoing?
Me: Definitely not outgoing, I felt the ground shake a little. You don't feel that with outgoing from here.
Lisa: Yeah, you're right. Maybe it was a controlled det.
Me: Yeah, either that or a bomb just outside the wire.
Lisa: Probably. Definitely wasn't on the FOB though.
Me: Nah, it was too far away to be incoming.
A few seconds pass
Me: *laugh*
Lisa: What?
Me: Do you realize we just had a perfectly calm conversation about the source of an explosion that was close enough that we could feel it?
Lisa: *laugh* Yeah, I suppose we did.
Me: Is this bad?
Lisa: Probably.
And that, my friends, is the reality of war zones. If you are paying attention, you learn to distinguish the sources of the various ka-booms and ka-blowies pretty quickly. I also recognize the difference between a forklift or a crane setting a metal conex down roughly and a ka-boom. Not everyone has that down yet. It's pretty funny. Most of the time, when we hear a ka-boom, we get up, go look outside for the cloud, and then go about our business. Though, I suppose that once things pick up around here, probably starting next month, we'll stop looking for the cloud and start heading for the bunker. That'll be fun. And there will be better stories!
And then the rain came. It has rained here before, but it was just sprinkles, just enough to tease me with humidity, and then it dried up and went away. This wasn't like that. It rained a lot. For a while. Turns out, our base is built in a lovely dry river bed. Well, dry most of the time river bed. We do, in fact, have a rainy season. And it hit us with force the end of last week. It rained for about two days straight. There were very few places around her that weren't flooded. Highway 1, just outside the base, was at a standstill for a while, because it was flooded. Super good times. So what did we do? We're the fire department ... we pumped most of the water off the FOB. Yup. For two days in a row, we were pumping water out of everywhere. The guys were pretty damn awesome. They kept the camo folks tents from flooding and their generators from being waterlogged, so they could come back from missions to warm, dry tents. They pumped water out of the mortar pits so we could make more in-ground swimming pools, and fill them up with water! There were a couple of places, I swear to the gods, you would have actually been able to kayak. I think you might have been able to make it around about half of the base, before you had to get out of your kayak and reposition to another lake. The good part about the whole experience? I finally got to wear my rainboots. They are so awesome! And loads of people looked at me funny. Well, funnier than normal. :)
Here are some photos from the flooding:
We pumped an estimated 1/2 a million gallons of water out of the FOB. Go us! And by us, I mean the boys, because I was sitting in my warm, dry conex office watching movies. Well, except for the field trip I took out into the expansion after dark to bring the chief some glow sticks and his reflective vest. That was fun. Squishing my way around a couple of acres in the dark, in the rain. Good times. :)
Anywho, this post is probably long enough for now. It doesn't have the entertaining cast of characters, as promised in the last short post, but perhaps that needs to be another post! :)
So rest assured, I am alive and well. Things aren't all that bad around here at the moment, but as always, the world can go to shit at any moment! Live life on the edge!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Michelle's Guide to Communal Living
Communal living. It's not for everyone. I'm not really a huge fan myself, but it's what we have here, therefore, I will live with it. I have stayed in my fair share of hostels, and have well-traveled Friends, who have also experienced both the joy and the pain of a communal living situation. I'm not an expert, by any stretch, but I do have a lifetime of experience trying to be a decent, considerate human being. I haven't always been successful, but I try.
So here we go: rules to try to live by when faced with a communal living situation:
1. Plastic bags - they are the devil. Crinkling plastic bags are the bane of a communal living area. They are LOUD. You can try to be quiet with them, but it doesn't work. Ever. NO PLASTIC BAGS.
2. Slamming doors - don't do it. Unless you are making a dramatic statement during an argument with a significant other, doors do not need to be slammed. Especially at 5am, when you are the only one awake. If you can't take the time to gently close a door, go live the fuck outside where you don't have doors.
3. Lights - ever heard of a flashlight? It was on your packing list. Your very bright light does not need to be turned on at 5am, nor does it need to be on at 11pm. You were told to bring a flashlight. USE IT. If you didn't bring one, too fucking bad, turn your gosh damn light off, people are trying to sleep.
4. Heat or A/C - it does not need to be all the way up or all the way down. Every fucking day I walk into my tent and the stupid chicks have the heater turned all the way up to 90 fucking degrees. You can sterilize surgical instruments in my tent, it is so fucking hot. I'm pretty sure this is contributing to my computer not working properly. So every day, I turn it down to 75 degrees. A reasonable temperature, at least 30 degrees warmer than it is outside. For fuck's sake, it is going to be hot enough here in a couple of months, do we really need to experience it now? I can't wait until summer when they are all crying because it is hot enough to fry an egg on a wooden deck and the ECU is broken, because they froze the compressor. Haha bitches, I'm going to the fire station.
5. Food or drink - if everyone's clothes smell like what you are eating or drinking, you need to not bring that shit in the tent. I enjoy the smell of coffee. I don't drink coffee, but it smells nice. If, however, the coffee is so strong that the little hairs inside my nose fall out, then get that shit out of the tent. And bringing food in means the mice have something to look for. It's not like the tent is sealed and rodents can't get in. I am going to laugh at you when you see a mouse and scream like a little bitch because you left food out.
6. Doors - unless someone is going in or out of one, they should be closed. Do you want someone to steal your shit? Then leave it outside, unattended. If my shit is inside the tent, I don't want it to get stolen. Leaving doors open invites in everyone to steal your shit. My shit gets stolen, someone is getting punched in the face. More than once. Also, open doors invite in flies. Flies suck. Flies crawling on your face when you're sleeping really fucking sucks. I don't care where you are from, that's just nasty.
7. Loud talking - use your indoor voice please. Unless your indoor voice is really loud, then just shut the fuck up. We live in a tent. It's not very big. It's pretty open. Your voice travels. Please, keep it down. If I have my headphones in while watching a movie, and I can still hear your conversation clearly, you are too loud. Shut up. If it is after 10pm, take your shit outside to chat. Unless you can do it quietly, then you may remain inside. Do I care how cold it is outside? Not if you are loud. Also, no one wants to hear your music, no matter how cool you think it is. If you want us to check out a song, because you think it is awesome, that's cool, but ask us first. Don't just blare your shit for the universe to hear. It just pisses the Taliban off more. They wish their girlfriends were hot like me. (That's a lame song reference, in case you were wondering.)
8. If it isn't yours, don't touch it - seriously. Keep your mitts off of my shit. It may not be worth a lot, it may not be high class, but it is MY shit. Not yours. Mine. I'm not going to touch your shit without your permission. Don't touch my shit without mine. Touch my shit without my permission, and we are going to have problems.
9. Common courtesy - use it. If someone smiles and says hello, say hi back. Don't be a bitch and ignore people. That's just rude. I'm not saying you have to say hi to the same person 14 times a day, because that gets silly, but the first time, say hi back. If it's been several hours and you pass them again, a "Hey, how's it going?" is not out of order. Also, it's not polite to say "Wow, you look rough today" first thing in the morning. I was just woken up by you slamming the fucking door at 5am. It's not "rough", it's "pissed", you should learn the difference.
10. There is no 10. I tried to make a 10, but I think I have managed to get all my frustrations out in the first 9.
So there you have it. Michelle's guide to communal living. Learn it, live it, love it. Or get the fuck out of my tent.
(We have an all-hands meeting later today that will possibly be not only about using the toilet properly, but also proper places to masturbate. If we get a lecture on where to masturbate, there will be another blog soon.)
So here we go: rules to try to live by when faced with a communal living situation:
1. Plastic bags - they are the devil. Crinkling plastic bags are the bane of a communal living area. They are LOUD. You can try to be quiet with them, but it doesn't work. Ever. NO PLASTIC BAGS.
2. Slamming doors - don't do it. Unless you are making a dramatic statement during an argument with a significant other, doors do not need to be slammed. Especially at 5am, when you are the only one awake. If you can't take the time to gently close a door, go live the fuck outside where you don't have doors.
3. Lights - ever heard of a flashlight? It was on your packing list. Your very bright light does not need to be turned on at 5am, nor does it need to be on at 11pm. You were told to bring a flashlight. USE IT. If you didn't bring one, too fucking bad, turn your gosh damn light off, people are trying to sleep.
4. Heat or A/C - it does not need to be all the way up or all the way down. Every fucking day I walk into my tent and the stupid chicks have the heater turned all the way up to 90 fucking degrees. You can sterilize surgical instruments in my tent, it is so fucking hot. I'm pretty sure this is contributing to my computer not working properly. So every day, I turn it down to 75 degrees. A reasonable temperature, at least 30 degrees warmer than it is outside. For fuck's sake, it is going to be hot enough here in a couple of months, do we really need to experience it now? I can't wait until summer when they are all crying because it is hot enough to fry an egg on a wooden deck and the ECU is broken, because they froze the compressor. Haha bitches, I'm going to the fire station.
5. Food or drink - if everyone's clothes smell like what you are eating or drinking, you need to not bring that shit in the tent. I enjoy the smell of coffee. I don't drink coffee, but it smells nice. If, however, the coffee is so strong that the little hairs inside my nose fall out, then get that shit out of the tent. And bringing food in means the mice have something to look for. It's not like the tent is sealed and rodents can't get in. I am going to laugh at you when you see a mouse and scream like a little bitch because you left food out.
6. Doors - unless someone is going in or out of one, they should be closed. Do you want someone to steal your shit? Then leave it outside, unattended. If my shit is inside the tent, I don't want it to get stolen. Leaving doors open invites in everyone to steal your shit. My shit gets stolen, someone is getting punched in the face. More than once. Also, open doors invite in flies. Flies suck. Flies crawling on your face when you're sleeping really fucking sucks. I don't care where you are from, that's just nasty.
7. Loud talking - use your indoor voice please. Unless your indoor voice is really loud, then just shut the fuck up. We live in a tent. It's not very big. It's pretty open. Your voice travels. Please, keep it down. If I have my headphones in while watching a movie, and I can still hear your conversation clearly, you are too loud. Shut up. If it is after 10pm, take your shit outside to chat. Unless you can do it quietly, then you may remain inside. Do I care how cold it is outside? Not if you are loud. Also, no one wants to hear your music, no matter how cool you think it is. If you want us to check out a song, because you think it is awesome, that's cool, but ask us first. Don't just blare your shit for the universe to hear. It just pisses the Taliban off more. They wish their girlfriends were hot like me. (That's a lame song reference, in case you were wondering.)
8. If it isn't yours, don't touch it - seriously. Keep your mitts off of my shit. It may not be worth a lot, it may not be high class, but it is MY shit. Not yours. Mine. I'm not going to touch your shit without your permission. Don't touch my shit without mine. Touch my shit without my permission, and we are going to have problems.
9. Common courtesy - use it. If someone smiles and says hello, say hi back. Don't be a bitch and ignore people. That's just rude. I'm not saying you have to say hi to the same person 14 times a day, because that gets silly, but the first time, say hi back. If it's been several hours and you pass them again, a "Hey, how's it going?" is not out of order. Also, it's not polite to say "Wow, you look rough today" first thing in the morning. I was just woken up by you slamming the fucking door at 5am. It's not "rough", it's "pissed", you should learn the difference.
10. There is no 10. I tried to make a 10, but I think I have managed to get all my frustrations out in the first 9.
So there you have it. Michelle's guide to communal living. Learn it, live it, love it. Or get the fuck out of my tent.
(We have an all-hands meeting later today that will possibly be not only about using the toilet properly, but also proper places to masturbate. If we get a lecture on where to masturbate, there will be another blog soon.)
Thursday, January 13, 2011
We needed to have a meeting for this?
Well, it turns out that tampons are not the only thing that clog the pipes here at our little oasis. Yes, this is a post about toilets. Again. But not just toilets. It's about meetings about toilets. And the need to have toilet guards.
So we didn't really get to any toilet stuff at the first all-hands meeting after our site manager got back from vacation, because it was rudely interrupted by baddies trying to kill us. A couple of days later, we finally go to it. And it was good.
Let me preface by saying that I am still a proponent of educating Foreign Nationals (FNs) on "western" toileting methods, i.e. don't stand on the toilet, use the toilet paper, don't use water bottle as bidets, etc. If this involves pictures or an actual demonstration, fine. It needs to be done. One cannot expect people who have never been exposed to a certain method of doing something to magically acquire the knowledge to undertake said task in said manner.
When the toilet units were first installed, each stall had a sprayer. Think: the kind you have on your kitchen sink. Because they were part of the toilet unit, I am going to assume they were, in fact, intended for bidet purposes, in the absence of an actual bidet. So the people used to using a bidet to clean their behinds after pooing were using them. The result? Water and shit all over the place. Awesome. So they took the sprayers out of all but the last stall of every toilet trailer.
Turns out our ass-washing FNs are pretty resourceful: they started bringing water bottles into the toilet trailer to use, since they no longer had the sprayer in every stall. Pretty ingenious, I think. The result? Water, shit, and water bottles all over the place. Actually, they were pretty good about throwing the water bottle in the "tampon troughs". Emphasis on the "were". Someone decided ... decided, actually made a conscious decision ... to flush a water bottle. Yeah, the whole thing. Well, the whole thing, in two halves. THEY CUT THE BOTTLE IN HALF! And tried to flush it down the toilet. Guess what happened? IT DIDN'T WORK! The bottle got stuck. (Shock) The toilet had to be taken apart to remove the bottle.
Naturally, this pissed off the powers that be. They are pretty possessive of their comfort trailers (I don't blame them) and screwing them up makes them angry. So another all-hands meeting was called. I initially refused, because the last one didn't go so well, but was told that I had to go, if I wanted to ever use the toilet again. As I am a fan of flushing toilets and not being very, very, very cold when I pee, I decided to ignore my trepidations, and go to the meeting.
It was pretty short and to the point: flush anything but toilet paper down the toilet and you're getting fired. Bring anything but the clothes on your back into the toilet trailer and you're getting written up. And then the ultimate in awesomeness: Toilet Guard was established. We had to provide our name and ID number when we entered and the number of the stall we used when we left.
Naturally, this annoyed me, because I am a responsible toileter, but whatever, I'll play the silly game. I went to the bathroom, not long after Toilet Guard had been established, with my new tentmate, Security Lisa (cool chick, ex-Army), only to discover that someone had PISSED ON THE SEAT! So after wiping it off, using the toilet responsibly, and washing my hands, I walked out of the trailer, gave the Toilet Guard my stall number, and said "Whoever used stall #2 last PISSED ON THE SEAT". I felt like a 3rd grader, albeit with a potty mouth, and decided I was going back to using the porta potties again until they abolished the Toilet Guard position, because I decided it was asinine. (In case you were wondering, it wasn't a conscious decision to go to the toilet WITH Lisa, we just happened to be going to the same place, at the same time, for the same purposes.)
It only lasted another day or so, but it remains to be seen if that particular problem has been solved. Apparently, we are working toward a new one, though. I was stopped, on my way to the toilet, by our head Operations guy, who told me that he is now finding wadded up balls of shit-covered toilet paper in the trashcans. I am pretty sure this is because the FNs are making an effort to toilet in a western style, but since they have never been shown, and have been yelled at several times about flushing stuff, they are now wiping with toilet paper (yah), but throwing it in the trashcan (boo), so they don't get in trouble for flushing something they aren't supposed to.
It's a vicious cycle. A vicious cycle that I am certain will be a major topic of discussion at our next all-hands meeting. I'm considering making a power point presentation and/or handouts to provide to all personnel on how to conduct one's toilet in a socially acceptable manner. It will probably be the best power point presentation ever assembled for any purpose ever.
Any volunteers for the pictures?
So we didn't really get to any toilet stuff at the first all-hands meeting after our site manager got back from vacation, because it was rudely interrupted by baddies trying to kill us. A couple of days later, we finally go to it. And it was good.
Let me preface by saying that I am still a proponent of educating Foreign Nationals (FNs) on "western" toileting methods, i.e. don't stand on the toilet, use the toilet paper, don't use water bottle as bidets, etc. If this involves pictures or an actual demonstration, fine. It needs to be done. One cannot expect people who have never been exposed to a certain method of doing something to magically acquire the knowledge to undertake said task in said manner.
When the toilet units were first installed, each stall had a sprayer. Think: the kind you have on your kitchen sink. Because they were part of the toilet unit, I am going to assume they were, in fact, intended for bidet purposes, in the absence of an actual bidet. So the people used to using a bidet to clean their behinds after pooing were using them. The result? Water and shit all over the place. Awesome. So they took the sprayers out of all but the last stall of every toilet trailer.
Turns out our ass-washing FNs are pretty resourceful: they started bringing water bottles into the toilet trailer to use, since they no longer had the sprayer in every stall. Pretty ingenious, I think. The result? Water, shit, and water bottles all over the place. Actually, they were pretty good about throwing the water bottle in the "tampon troughs". Emphasis on the "were". Someone decided ... decided, actually made a conscious decision ... to flush a water bottle. Yeah, the whole thing. Well, the whole thing, in two halves. THEY CUT THE BOTTLE IN HALF! And tried to flush it down the toilet. Guess what happened? IT DIDN'T WORK! The bottle got stuck. (Shock) The toilet had to be taken apart to remove the bottle.
Naturally, this pissed off the powers that be. They are pretty possessive of their comfort trailers (I don't blame them) and screwing them up makes them angry. So another all-hands meeting was called. I initially refused, because the last one didn't go so well, but was told that I had to go, if I wanted to ever use the toilet again. As I am a fan of flushing toilets and not being very, very, very cold when I pee, I decided to ignore my trepidations, and go to the meeting.
It was pretty short and to the point: flush anything but toilet paper down the toilet and you're getting fired. Bring anything but the clothes on your back into the toilet trailer and you're getting written up. And then the ultimate in awesomeness: Toilet Guard was established. We had to provide our name and ID number when we entered and the number of the stall we used when we left.
Naturally, this annoyed me, because I am a responsible toileter, but whatever, I'll play the silly game. I went to the bathroom, not long after Toilet Guard had been established, with my new tentmate, Security Lisa (cool chick, ex-Army), only to discover that someone had PISSED ON THE SEAT! So after wiping it off, using the toilet responsibly, and washing my hands, I walked out of the trailer, gave the Toilet Guard my stall number, and said "Whoever used stall #2 last PISSED ON THE SEAT". I felt like a 3rd grader, albeit with a potty mouth, and decided I was going back to using the porta potties again until they abolished the Toilet Guard position, because I decided it was asinine. (In case you were wondering, it wasn't a conscious decision to go to the toilet WITH Lisa, we just happened to be going to the same place, at the same time, for the same purposes.)
It only lasted another day or so, but it remains to be seen if that particular problem has been solved. Apparently, we are working toward a new one, though. I was stopped, on my way to the toilet, by our head Operations guy, who told me that he is now finding wadded up balls of shit-covered toilet paper in the trashcans. I am pretty sure this is because the FNs are making an effort to toilet in a western style, but since they have never been shown, and have been yelled at several times about flushing stuff, they are now wiping with toilet paper (yah), but throwing it in the trashcan (boo), so they don't get in trouble for flushing something they aren't supposed to.
It's a vicious cycle. A vicious cycle that I am certain will be a major topic of discussion at our next all-hands meeting. I'm considering making a power point presentation and/or handouts to provide to all personnel on how to conduct one's toilet in a socially acceptable manner. It will probably be the best power point presentation ever assembled for any purpose ever.
Any volunteers for the pictures?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
49 Days
So, in case you were unaware, I am in Afghanistan. More specifically, I am in the Zhari District, of the Kandahar Province, in Afghanistan. In case you've been living under a rock for the last oh, almost 10 years, there's a little bit of a skirmish going on over here. It's kind of a war zone. I knew this going in, so I have accepted the risks that are inherent to war zones. I know there is a possibility I could die here. Obviously, it's not my first choice of things to do while I'm here, but it's a possibility. Anyone who thinks otherwise and is here, is mentally unbalanced and should go home, because they are dangerous.
That being said, we were hit with our first Indirect Fire (IDF) attack a few days ago. It was marginally humorous, as all of the DynCorp personnel were in one place, at an all-hands meeting, when the first round hit. (That's funny, because of the whole "don't put all of your eggs in one basket" thing.) Our site manager was talking about something, probably how to use the toilets correctly (wish I was making that up), and we heard a rather close and loud kablowie. There was a very brief pause, and then we were told, in a rather urgent fashion, to get into the bunkers. A couple hundred people trying to fit through the opening to a bunker doesn't work well. I followed my boss to the next closest bunker, and as we were on the way, moving calmly, but quickly, we heard a second rather close and loud kablowie. We picked up the pace a bit and all huddled into the bunker.
I am not afraid to admit I was scared. Scared there were more coming, scared they would get closer to us, scared the two that had already hit, had hit someone. (Excellent ending to the story though, but I'll get to that ...) In the bunker, for the first few minutes it was pretty quiet, as I'm pretty sure everyone was thinking the same thing I was: "Is it over? Is there more? Damn it's cold in here". But, we had the fun crowd in our bunker, so the tense silence didn't last for long. Like many, I use humor as a tension diffuser, and why should IDF attacks be any different? There was no shortage of jokes and cracking on each other. For being a fairly terrifying experience, it wasn't all bad.
We later learned that there were no casualties, nor any injuries, to anyone on the FOB. YAH! We also learned that the baddies that perpetrated the attack were pretty dumb, and were very quickly caught. Not sure if they are still alive, but I really don't care. Less baddies on the planet is a good thing.
If you're wondering about the title of this post (49 Days), that's how long we (Jason, Mike, and I) had been at Howz-e Madad before we experienced out first close IDF attack. There was a rocket attack while we were at KAF, but we didn't even hear it hit, so it was nowhere near us. Not too bad, considering this place used to get hit significantly more often. Of course, I should clarify: we were here for 49 days before our first attack; there hadn't been one for several weeks before that, either.
So, there ya go: my first IDF attack. It was definitely scary, I definitely experienced a heightened sense of awareness for a few hours, and other than a couple of super tiny craters in the ground, nothing or nobody was injured. As far as attacks go, it wasn't too bad.
I am glad we finally got the first one out of the way. I knew it would come eventually, and I hate waiting. :)
There was going to be a continuation of this post with the tragic story of a water bottle leading to toilet guards, but I'll save that for later.
That being said, we were hit with our first Indirect Fire (IDF) attack a few days ago. It was marginally humorous, as all of the DynCorp personnel were in one place, at an all-hands meeting, when the first round hit. (That's funny, because of the whole "don't put all of your eggs in one basket" thing.) Our site manager was talking about something, probably how to use the toilets correctly (wish I was making that up), and we heard a rather close and loud kablowie. There was a very brief pause, and then we were told, in a rather urgent fashion, to get into the bunkers. A couple hundred people trying to fit through the opening to a bunker doesn't work well. I followed my boss to the next closest bunker, and as we were on the way, moving calmly, but quickly, we heard a second rather close and loud kablowie. We picked up the pace a bit and all huddled into the bunker.
I am not afraid to admit I was scared. Scared there were more coming, scared they would get closer to us, scared the two that had already hit, had hit someone. (Excellent ending to the story though, but I'll get to that ...) In the bunker, for the first few minutes it was pretty quiet, as I'm pretty sure everyone was thinking the same thing I was: "Is it over? Is there more? Damn it's cold in here". But, we had the fun crowd in our bunker, so the tense silence didn't last for long. Like many, I use humor as a tension diffuser, and why should IDF attacks be any different? There was no shortage of jokes and cracking on each other. For being a fairly terrifying experience, it wasn't all bad.
We later learned that there were no casualties, nor any injuries, to anyone on the FOB. YAH! We also learned that the baddies that perpetrated the attack were pretty dumb, and were very quickly caught. Not sure if they are still alive, but I really don't care. Less baddies on the planet is a good thing.
If you're wondering about the title of this post (49 Days), that's how long we (Jason, Mike, and I) had been at Howz-e Madad before we experienced out first close IDF attack. There was a rocket attack while we were at KAF, but we didn't even hear it hit, so it was nowhere near us. Not too bad, considering this place used to get hit significantly more often. Of course, I should clarify: we were here for 49 days before our first attack; there hadn't been one for several weeks before that, either.
So, there ya go: my first IDF attack. It was definitely scary, I definitely experienced a heightened sense of awareness for a few hours, and other than a couple of super tiny craters in the ground, nothing or nobody was injured. As far as attacks go, it wasn't too bad.
I am glad we finally got the first one out of the way. I knew it would come eventually, and I hate waiting. :)
There was going to be a continuation of this post with the tragic story of a water bottle leading to toilet guards, but I'll save that for later.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Cereal
Ah cereal. The lifeblood of breakfast. You may say the breakfast isn't breakfast without bacon, or eggs, or pancakes, or grits, or oatmeal, or sausage, or a McGriddle, or perhaps a horribly disgusting Egg McMuffin, but it is cereal that brings breakfast together.
The fun thing about cereal here at FOB Howz-e Madad, is that you have to be at the chow hall at the right time for it. And that time changes daily. If you miss the first 5 minutes they put new cereal out, you've missed it. And then you have two options: sit and wait until they bring more out, and you don't know how long that is going to be, or just resign yourself to the fact that, once again, you've missed cereal for the day.
But say you are lucky. Say you get cereal, and it is cereal you like (sometimes all they have is non-raisined bran) .... then you have the milk situation.
We had vanilla Silk yesterday, and late in the breakfast period today, but for the last almost 3 weeks, there has only been chocolate, strawberry, and banana milk. Now for the hard decision: which of those goes best with whichever cereal you've chosen? Special K with red berries? Definitely strawberry. Cocoa Crispies? Definitely chocolate. Frosted Flakes? That's a toss up. Low-fat Granola with Raisins? Steal the Silk when you can and hide it outside where it will never get warm (seriously ... it's freaking cold here).
Yeah, so that's the randomness for the day. Enjoy. And count your blessings when you have free access to white milk for your cereal.
The fun thing about cereal here at FOB Howz-e Madad, is that you have to be at the chow hall at the right time for it. And that time changes daily. If you miss the first 5 minutes they put new cereal out, you've missed it. And then you have two options: sit and wait until they bring more out, and you don't know how long that is going to be, or just resign yourself to the fact that, once again, you've missed cereal for the day.
But say you are lucky. Say you get cereal, and it is cereal you like (sometimes all they have is non-raisined bran) .... then you have the milk situation.
We had vanilla Silk yesterday, and late in the breakfast period today, but for the last almost 3 weeks, there has only been chocolate, strawberry, and banana milk. Now for the hard decision: which of those goes best with whichever cereal you've chosen? Special K with red berries? Definitely strawberry. Cocoa Crispies? Definitely chocolate. Frosted Flakes? That's a toss up. Low-fat Granola with Raisins? Steal the Silk when you can and hide it outside where it will never get warm (seriously ... it's freaking cold here).
Yeah, so that's the randomness for the day. Enjoy. And count your blessings when you have free access to white milk for your cereal.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
A month already?
Holy cripes! It has been a month and a couple of days since my latest adventure began. So far, I have only had to go to a bunker once *knocks on wood*, and it was in Kandahar. I've only had to wear my kevlar and vest once, and that was for a helicopter ride. So this whole war zone thing isn't as bad as I thought. Don't get me wrong, it could all go to shit any moment, but so far, so good. *knocks on wood again*
When we got to Kandahar (KAF), we were all a bit nervous that the rest of our year was going to be spent in similar craptastic conditions. Imagine our surprise when we got to a smaller base, with significantly less everything, and were happier! Here at Howz-e Madad, compared to KAF, it is less dusty, less smelly, less busy, and less full of silliness. There is silliness here, but the right kind of silliness, not the kind of silliness that makes you want to punch people in their faces.
It is odd, but I really find it quite beautiful here. Mostly at night. We don't have a lot of exterior lighting on the base, so on a cloudless night (as most of them are), you can see the entire universe! Orion's Belt comes up over the horizon and I know things aren't as bad as they could be. What does one constellation have to do with anything, you ask? I know where I am, I can see the night sky, and I can wish upon the stars.
Of course, I don't spend a lot of time outside at night, because it is REALLY FRICKIN' COLD! There is a thermometer by the site manager's office that says it was 40 degrees around 8:30pm yesterday, but I am certain that it is a dirty, dirty liar, because it was WAY colder than 40. Dirty lying thermometer. But my tent is nice and warm. SpongeBob keeps me nice and warm at night, as do my military issue sleeping bag(s).
They finally have the shower units up in our little DynCorp area, so it is only 14 steps from my tent porch to the door of the (occasionally) female shower unit. It is absolutely glorious to be able to get up in the morning and take a nice hot shower. I could've taken glorious morning showers with the every other day schedule as well, but then my shower escort would have had to get up early to escort me, and he doesn't like getting up early. My poor little sunshine. (Yes, that's me picking on you, Jason.)
So, a month down ... only 11 more to go. And at least 30 of those days, I'll be out of Afghanistan, so really, only 10 more months of Afghanistan. I am planning to be home toward the end of April, because someone is supposed to be having a baby around the 1st of May. Fingers crossed I get home before the little Sarah/Waylon decides it is time to join the world!
'Til next time ...
When we got to Kandahar (KAF), we were all a bit nervous that the rest of our year was going to be spent in similar craptastic conditions. Imagine our surprise when we got to a smaller base, with significantly less everything, and were happier! Here at Howz-e Madad, compared to KAF, it is less dusty, less smelly, less busy, and less full of silliness. There is silliness here, but the right kind of silliness, not the kind of silliness that makes you want to punch people in their faces.
It is odd, but I really find it quite beautiful here. Mostly at night. We don't have a lot of exterior lighting on the base, so on a cloudless night (as most of them are), you can see the entire universe! Orion's Belt comes up over the horizon and I know things aren't as bad as they could be. What does one constellation have to do with anything, you ask? I know where I am, I can see the night sky, and I can wish upon the stars.
Of course, I don't spend a lot of time outside at night, because it is REALLY FRICKIN' COLD! There is a thermometer by the site manager's office that says it was 40 degrees around 8:30pm yesterday, but I am certain that it is a dirty, dirty liar, because it was WAY colder than 40. Dirty lying thermometer. But my tent is nice and warm. SpongeBob keeps me nice and warm at night, as do my military issue sleeping bag(s).
They finally have the shower units up in our little DynCorp area, so it is only 14 steps from my tent porch to the door of the (occasionally) female shower unit. It is absolutely glorious to be able to get up in the morning and take a nice hot shower. I could've taken glorious morning showers with the every other day schedule as well, but then my shower escort would have had to get up early to escort me, and he doesn't like getting up early. My poor little sunshine. (Yes, that's me picking on you, Jason.)
So, a month down ... only 11 more to go. And at least 30 of those days, I'll be out of Afghanistan, so really, only 10 more months of Afghanistan. I am planning to be home toward the end of April, because someone is supposed to be having a baby around the 1st of May. Fingers crossed I get home before the little Sarah/Waylon decides it is time to join the world!
'Til next time ...
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Always pillage *before* you burn!
SO here I am, in delightful southern Afghanistan, with only a few active Facebook games. I play Fish Wrangler and FarmVille daily, and occasionally (now anyway) Vampire and Mafia Wars. I've refused to play FrontierVille, and am actively resisting looking into CityVille. One of the IT guys here has been playing a game called 'Realm of Empires' for a bit and told me about it.
I decided to give it a shot ... I mean, really. Who doesn't love pillaging the villages of random people around the world? It's fake war, in a war zone. The nice thing about this: no one actually dies!
The general premise is this: build your village up, make friends, join a clan, go out and kick some ass. But apparently, there is strategy involved with this. One cannot just randomly build things willy-nilly and expect to be successful. This is where JB (the IT guy) came in handy for me ... he is guiding me in what to build and how high to level things before moving on to others.
Here's what my village kind of looks like at the moment:
And here's what it'll eventually look like (yeah, that's right, I'm going to have a palace):
I like being able to see my village. It gives me a sense of accomplishment ... well, a much of a sense of accomplishment as one may achieve whilst playing Facebook games at work.
So cool things you get to play with: citizen militias, cavalry, knights, trebuchets, rams, etc. Oh! And spies! Once you have a tavern, you can recruit spies! Who doesn't love having spies at their beck and call?
Here's what the nice developers at www.realmofempires.com say about the game:
"Realm Of Empires is a medieval-themed Massively Multiplayer Online Real-Time Strategy Game - MMORTG.
You start with a small village which you grow into a mighty fortress as you struggle for dominance of the realm playing with, and against real people. It’s a game of diplomacy, strategy and war.
The game is intended to be played as little as just a few minutes per day, over many days, weeks and months as you make friends in a medieval world."
You guys know I am not a gamer, so for something like this to hold my attention longer than 10 minutes, you know it has to be fun! What I am digging most at the moment is my Level 20 Headquarters building. Once you get to Level 20, you can queue upgrades, so you don't forget to come back to upgrade more. So at this particular moment, I have like 15 upgrades queued, and in 6 hours, I'll go back and upgrade some more!
So check it out ... especially if you are my FB friends, 'cause having allies is a GOOD thing! If you are one of my Tweeps and you don't have a FB account (7), go get one!!
Off to check on my upgrades and see if the silver JB sent me has arrived yet!
I decided to give it a shot ... I mean, really. Who doesn't love pillaging the villages of random people around the world? It's fake war, in a war zone. The nice thing about this: no one actually dies!
The general premise is this: build your village up, make friends, join a clan, go out and kick some ass. But apparently, there is strategy involved with this. One cannot just randomly build things willy-nilly and expect to be successful. This is where JB (the IT guy) came in handy for me ... he is guiding me in what to build and how high to level things before moving on to others.
Here's what my village kind of looks like at the moment:
And here's what it'll eventually look like (yeah, that's right, I'm going to have a palace):
I like being able to see my village. It gives me a sense of accomplishment ... well, a much of a sense of accomplishment as one may achieve whilst playing Facebook games at work.So cool things you get to play with: citizen militias, cavalry, knights, trebuchets, rams, etc. Oh! And spies! Once you have a tavern, you can recruit spies! Who doesn't love having spies at their beck and call?
Here's what the nice developers at www.realmofempires.com say about the game:
"Realm Of Empires is a medieval-themed Massively Multiplayer Online Real-Time Strategy Game - MMORTG.
You start with a small village which you grow into a mighty fortress as you struggle for dominance of the realm playing with, and against real people. It’s a game of diplomacy, strategy and war.
The game is intended to be played as little as just a few minutes per day, over many days, weeks and months as you make friends in a medieval world."
You guys know I am not a gamer, so for something like this to hold my attention longer than 10 minutes, you know it has to be fun! What I am digging most at the moment is my Level 20 Headquarters building. Once you get to Level 20, you can queue upgrades, so you don't forget to come back to upgrade more. So at this particular moment, I have like 15 upgrades queued, and in 6 hours, I'll go back and upgrade some more!
So check it out ... especially if you are my FB friends, 'cause having allies is a GOOD thing! If you are one of my Tweeps and you don't have a FB account (7), go get one!!
Off to check on my upgrades and see if the silver JB sent me has arrived yet!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
So there is this guy ...
... I really want to tell you all about, but it would be wrong of me to tell you all about him on my blog. Suffice to say, he is a toolbox and absolutely LOATHES me.
You know those people that ALWAYS have a better story? The kind that has done absolutely EVERYTHING? The kind that can't stand it when someone is better qualified to do their job than they are? The really insecure, has to prove everything kind of guy? The kind of guy who almost craps himself every time he hears a boom, while saying everyone else is scared? The kind of guy that likes to say "I'm not a titles kind of person", immediately either following or preceding him throwing his title in your face? The kind of guy that thinks everyone LOVES him, when in reality they want him to fall down and break his ankle so he can go home and they don't have to deal with him anymore? The kind of guy that makes excuses at every turn about why things are happening, like that he was never supposed to stay at one place, because he was just sent out to open the place, and that's why he is leaving?
Yeah, I know that kind of guy too. :) Remind me at the end of my contract, and I'll tell you all about it.
You know those people that ALWAYS have a better story? The kind that has done absolutely EVERYTHING? The kind that can't stand it when someone is better qualified to do their job than they are? The really insecure, has to prove everything kind of guy? The kind of guy who almost craps himself every time he hears a boom, while saying everyone else is scared? The kind of guy that likes to say "I'm not a titles kind of person", immediately either following or preceding him throwing his title in your face? The kind of guy that thinks everyone LOVES him, when in reality they want him to fall down and break his ankle so he can go home and they don't have to deal with him anymore? The kind of guy that makes excuses at every turn about why things are happening, like that he was never supposed to stay at one place, because he was just sent out to open the place, and that's why he is leaving?
Yeah, I know that kind of guy too. :) Remind me at the end of my contract, and I'll tell you all about it.
Howz-e Madad: the Life and Times
When I got to Kandahar, I was told I was going to Tarin Kowt (TK), a multi-national airbase in the northern part of southern Afghanistan. Then I was told I wasn't going to TK, because there was no bed space. Then I was told I was going to Wilson, a small-ish base just outside of Kandahar. Then Howz-e Madad (HEM), who wasn't scheduled for a fire department just yet, had a fire. So Mike (the A/C I went through Ft. Worth with) was told he was going to HEM. He ok, but I want to take Jason and Michelle with me. We'd been together for almost 2 weeks, so it was cool with us. The big Chief said "ok", and so off we went.
The trip getting to HEM was fairly entertaining, if you like sitting around for hours on end. We were told to be at the flightline at one time ... it was IMPERATIVE that we were there on time ... and didn't actually leave until 8 hours later. Jason, Mike, and I all loaded into one helicopter, with a metric crap ton of stuff, (with some other people) and the 4th guy going with us, Pablo (who is a whole story unto himself) got in another one. They told us we were going to a base before ours, so some of us knew there would be two stops. Well, the helo I wasn't on landed at the first stop, while we circled overhead. We got to HEM, landed, unassed ourselves and our metric crap ton of stuff, only to disocver that we had no Pablo. Yeah, he got off on the wrong base. This both amused and annoyed us, and that it amused us is really saying something, because by the time this was all discovered, it was 3am.
So they found us a tent for the night, then moved us to another one the next day, we got our bearings and started life at our new home. (Pablo missed the first ride out of the other place and eventually arrived the next day ... about 30 hours after Jason, Mike, and I.)
This is the fire station:
That's Jason and Mike standing in front of it. The big white boxes on the side are fire extinguishers and/or bottled water.
One of my favorite parts about HEM is our blimp. We have a blimp that hangs out with a camera that looks at the surrounding countryside. Lots of bases have them, but ours is special ... mostly because it is ours. Basically, it looks for bad guys. I'm sure you understand why I like the blimp! The blimp very rarely comes down to visit the earth, but it did today and I got a couple of pictures!
And there were pictures here, until I was told I was wrong for having them here ... so there are no more blimp pictures. But it is an epically awesome blimp. You'll just have to trust me on this.
We also have wonderful places called "bunkers"! So far, knock on wood, we have not had to use them. Fingers crossed it stays that way for a long, long time. Like until next November. :)
Hurrah for bunkers!
So, food. The food isn't bad. It's not exceptional, but I am in the middle of a war zone, so I am not expecting great things. They feed us and it is rarely ever inedible. They often have delightful treats, like kiwi fruit and mango, and rarely can Buffalo Bob's Everything Sauce not make something edible. There was some stuffing last week that even Buffalo Bob couldn't save. Right now, my biggest concern is that I have to keep deciding between strawbery or banana milk for my tea in the morning, because we haven't had white milk in a while. If you work on it, you can eat relatively healthy ... but the goal here isn't necessarily to enjoy low-calorie, low-fat foods. The boys and girls in uniform need their calories. THe worst day is Sunday, because brunch doesn't start until 10, and that's 3 horus after we normally eat breakfast. And sleeping in is very much not an option around here.
So this is my typical day:
0630 - wake-up
0700 - pick boys up for breakfast (if they aren't ready, I harvest my crops on FarmVille)
0800 - finish previous days sitrep, send it to the chief for approval, then forward on
0815 - 1130 - find stuff to fill time
1130 - lunch
1230 - 1800-ish - find stuff to fill time
1800-ish - dinner
After dinner - screw off on the computer and go to bed
Shampoo, rinse, repeat. But only every other day. :)
The Ft. Worth Adventure …
Ft. Worth
So, after leaving Tallahassee at ass o'clock in the morning, I slept most of the way to Atlanta (shock), changed gates, got on a new plane and slept most of the way to Dallas/Ft. Worth. Finding the Marriott shuttle at DFW was entertaining, as it was like 47,000 terminals over and 9 floors down. DFW is pretty high on my list of least favorite airports, though they do have a Bennigan's, which keeps it from being my least favorite. (My least favorite airport is probably Immokalee … mostly because I had to stop there once to throw up as I was flying around Florida pretty hungover, but that's a whole other story. Well, not really ... that's pretty much the whole story … I was on a cross-country flight, I was hungover, I needed to throw-up, Immokalee was close, so I landed, got out of the plane, yakked, got back in the plane, took off, and continued the flight. Good times.)
The Ft. Worth Marriott Hotel and Golf Club is really quite nice. It is across the road from the Texas Motor Speedway, which was hosting a NASCAR race the day I arrived, so traffic was interesting, and hotel guests were even more interesting. It's a pretty cool operation DynCorp has going on there … they rent/lease a good number of the meeting/conference rooms, and a large portion of several floors of the hotel for offices. I imagine it is a mutually beneficial arrangement for DynCorp and Marriott. Other than the race track, there isn't much in the area to warrant a decent hotel. Anywho, we all got our own rooms, didn't have to pay for internet or food, and so the adventure began.
In my deployment class, we had an assistant fire chief, a firefighter, a fire department admin assistant, and me, the dispatcher … or, if we want to use job titles: the FACC Specialist. (FACC is fire alarm communications center … which is a little funny, because my title would lead one to believe there are reporting smoke/fire detection systems in this country. There are not.) Naturally the four of us hung out all week, as fire folk tend to flock together. The A/C (Mike) is from Oklahoma and is in the Air National Guard. He's pretty damn knowledgeable and fun, so bonus. The Firefighter (Jason) is a former Marine from California, who cracks me up endlessly, and the admin assistant (Tonja) is from Indiana and is a math teacher, but her brother works at one of the bases over here, so he talked her into coming to visit for a year. Interestingly enough, Mike, Jason, and I are still together at one base, while Tonja is hanging out with her brother.
The whole DIDC (DynCorp International Deployment Center) experience was interesting. I learned a lot about how things operate where civilians are concerned in a war zone. I learned that the DoD apparently doesn't follow national trends in CPR and first aid, as we were told that CPR was 15 compressions and 2 breaths (and it was … pre-2005). We got a crash course in how to apply a tourniquet, which was entertaining to those of us that have been in the EMS world for a while. We also learned that we don't rinse/clean out wounds before we bandage them, regardless of whether or not we have water and/or saline readily available. Also despite the fact that this place is just TEEMING with bacteria. Let's keep it in the wound, just in case. Both Mike and I gave suggestions on how to improve things for that class. Pretty sure nothing will change, but they can't make me forget my EMT training, so I'll just stick with that.
The most awesome part of the whole experience was getting 5 shots … well, no. The most awesome part of the experience was getting to hang out with Kevin, Lindsay, and Travis, in various combinations. The second most awesome part was getting 5 shots. They made me get a flu shot. I didn't want one. Apparently there is no opt-out option. I was (and still am) a bit annoyed about that. I also had to get a 3rd Hepatitis A shot. Yeah, I know there are only 2 in that series, but I didn't have a copy of the record that showed I had already had both … I showed I had one, so they decided to give me another one, just so they could document it and show I had 2. Can't remember what the others were: polio, DPT, and something else, I think. Anyway, both of my arms hurt like hell for a couple of days. That was grand.
I definitely enjoyed hanging out with Kevin and Travis and then Kevin and Lindsay. It was nice to see such cool people after not seeing them for a while. In fact, I hadn't seen any of them since Kevin and Lindsay's wedding in May. Just don't let Travis navigate. 'Nuff said. J
We arrived on a Sunday, and got our "deployment" orders on Wednesday evening. Among the things they gave us, including flight info, etc, was a giant vat of doxycycline. 500 pills per person. What's that for, you ask? Malaria. We are supposed to take one a day, starting the day we leave DFW until 30 days after we return to the States at the end of our contract. That's 13 months. The nice folks at the FDA tell you not to take it longer than 4 months at a time. There was no good explanation for taking it 3 times the recommended maximum, so a number of us have chosen to not take our pills. I figure they'll be great for sinus infections. And if mosquitoes get bad (I haven't seen any at all yet), I may take it for a couple of months. But for now, no mosquitoes = no doxycycline intake. But I have them. Just in case!
Another entertaining part of our time in Ft. Worth was mine and Jason's field trip to do laundry. I can't remember the name of the little "town" where the laundry place was, but it was Historical. We threw our laundry in the washers, and took off to explore. Found a building that was built in the 18-somethings and was a saloon, a nice little bookshop that made yummy pumpkin spice lattes, and other assorted things. Then we went back, switched machines (washer to dryer) and walked the other way through Historic Downtown Whatever-it-was-called.
And all that pretty much took us up to the flight to Dubai, which I wrote about already. I know I said I was going to do more than one today, but I misjudged my ability to be annoyed and write at the same time. More about the annoyance part later. Suffice to say, certain companies do not understand how fire departments work.
Oh, and the cell phone number I gave out last time … doesn't work here. Allegedly we have a tower for that service, but it isn't turned on. And I have no way to get the other company's SIM chip where I am. SO unless Roshan turns on their tower, disregard the cell phone thing. Good times.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Field trip to Afghanistan
I was going to do a big ol' blog on the DynCorp in-processing ordeal, but I'll save that for later. For now, here's a brief synopsis of my field trip from Ft. Worth to Kandahar!
I left Tallahassee on Sunday, 11/7 at ass o'clock in the morning (lots of love to Tess and Rusty for coming to see me off ... I put on the necklace Tess gave me and it's still on ... may never come off). Quick flight to Atlanta, slightly longer flight to Dallas. Picked up my bags and caught the shuttle to the Marriott Hotel and Golf Club across from the Texas Motor Speedway. I got to hang out with Kevin and Lindsay a little bit, so that was awesome.
We found out Wednesday evening we were flying out Thursday for Dubai. Checked out of the hotel at 1pm Thursday the 11th, went to the airport, and got everything checked in and through security with only 3 hours to spare before our flight. So, naturally, we rode the train around the airport! It was a couple hour flight from Dallas to Dulles, where we all boarded a nice comfy Boeing 777 for a 13 hour flight to Dubai. Of course, the 13 hour flight was made more fabulous by the hour and half we sat on the plane while they were trying to run a software update on the navigation system. It's not like we really need it. Just head east for a long time ...
The flight to Dubai was surprisingly nice. They were showing about 6 movies I wanted to see, but I saw exactly none of them, as I was either sleeping or reading the Hunger Games series. Awesome trilogy that Rusty recommended to me. Because of the 90 minute delay leaving, we were 90 minutes late arriving, and so I got to see pretty much nothing of Dubai, except the airport, which is really nice!
We stayed at a hotel called the "Dubai Grand". It isn't really all that grand. In fact, it kind of sucks. There was only one other female in my group, but instead of giving us a room together, they put us in separate rooms with other females that were already there (all from DynCorp), so we had the pleasure of waking strangers up at midnight. That was nice of us. Grrr.
Up early the next morning to be downstairs to do timecards at 0630 (why? yeah, I don't know either) and then check out at 0730. Left for the airport around 0800, got checked in for the flight to Kandahar, and ended up with 2 hours to kill, that quickly became 3, when the flight was delayed! So the 4 fire department folk (me, an admin assistant, an assistant chief, and a firefighter) all cruised the shopping areas (found my next laptop ... didn't buy it, but will soon), where I found a Crunchie bar that I did buy (they were selling cases of them, but I didn't have room in my carry-on) and then we decided it was lunch time. There is a nice Irish pub in the Dubai airport that serves Magner's Irish Cider on tap, so I talked the boys into drinking cider with me (which they appreciated, because they really liked it) and we ate our last non-dining facility meal. For me, it was bangers and mash. Yummy!
The flight to Kandahar wasn't bad. Flying over the Middle East into Southwest Asia felt a lot like flying over the American Southwest. Lots of dirt, with mountains interspersed periodically. I'll admit, I did think about how much it would suck if the plane was shot down over Iran ... but since I am typing this several days later, it obviously did not, so no worries.
We ended up arriving in Kandahar around 4pm (local time) on Saturday the 13th. Not really sure where Friday went, but that's the miracle of flying around the world!
SO here are my first impressions of Afghanistan:
- Holy crap it is dusty up in here.
- I not a fan of camping, in general, so this whole tent thing is going to take some getting used to.
- How bad can a place really be, if there is a TGIFriday's?
- I never knew that chow halls could actually serve decent food! Kwaj ... take notes.
- I am a HUGE fan of not having to walk outside of my sleeping area to use the toilet, or to shower ... guess I'll have to get used to that too.
- They still make cell phones without cameras!
- The first time you hear the "rocket attack" siren, you're heart will pound as you hit the floor.
- Sitting in a bunker is boring.
- Khaki is the best color for this area ... you can't see all the dust on your clothes, unless you shake them out!
- While I may be in a war zone, I feel quite safe with the thousands of Soldiers, Airman, Sailors, and Marines walking around in uniform with rifles. And those are just the US troops ... hurrah for: the UK, Canada, France, Slovakia, the Netherlands, and several other NATO countries hanging out around here.
That's about it for now. I should go and pretend to do something productive that could be considered work related! I'll tell you more about what I will be doing in a later post.
Oh, and if you feel the overwhelming need to actually talk to me, or to send me a text, I got an Afghanistan phone number! It is: 079 735 1949. No idea how much it'd cost you to send me a text or to call, but incoming calls are free for me, and I can text you back. Please keep in mind, I am 9 1/2 hours ahead of EST and 12 1/2 hours ahead of PST. So your best bet is to call or text when it is late at night for you, wherever you happen to be.
I'll give you more job, location, etc detail next time. But not too detailed, as that would be against the rules. :)
I left Tallahassee on Sunday, 11/7 at ass o'clock in the morning (lots of love to Tess and Rusty for coming to see me off ... I put on the necklace Tess gave me and it's still on ... may never come off). Quick flight to Atlanta, slightly longer flight to Dallas. Picked up my bags and caught the shuttle to the Marriott Hotel and Golf Club across from the Texas Motor Speedway.
We found out Wednesday evening we were flying out Thursday for Dubai. Checked out of the hotel at 1pm Thursday the 11th, went to the airport, and got everything checked in and through security with only 3 hours to spare before our flight. So, naturally, we rode the train around the airport! It was a couple hour flight from Dallas to Dulles, where we all boarded a nice comfy Boeing 777 for a 13 hour flight to Dubai. Of course, the 13 hour flight was made more fabulous by the hour and half we sat on the plane while they were trying to run a software update on the navigation system. It's not like we really need it. Just head east for a long time ...
The flight to Dubai was surprisingly nice. They were showing about 6 movies I wanted to see, but I saw exactly none of them, as I was either sleeping or reading the Hunger Games series. Awesome trilogy that Rusty recommended to me. Because of the 90 minute delay leaving, we were 90 minutes late arriving, and so I got to see pretty much nothing of Dubai, except the airport, which is really nice!
We stayed at a hotel called the "Dubai Grand". It isn't really all that grand. In fact, it kind of sucks. There was only one other female in my group, but instead of giving us a room together, they put us in separate rooms with other females that were already there (all from DynCorp), so we had the pleasure of waking strangers up at midnight. That was nice of us. Grrr.
Up early the next morning to be downstairs to do timecards at 0630 (why? yeah, I don't know either) and then check out at 0730. Left for the airport around 0800, got checked in for the flight to Kandahar, and ended up with 2 hours to kill, that quickly became 3, when the flight was delayed! So the 4 fire department folk (me, an admin assistant, an assistant chief, and a firefighter) all cruised the shopping areas (found my next laptop ... didn't buy it, but will soon), where I found a Crunchie bar that I did buy (they were selling cases of them, but I didn't have room in my carry-on) and then we decided it was lunch time. There is a nice Irish pub in the Dubai airport that serves Magner's Irish Cider on tap, so I talked the boys into drinking cider with me (which they appreciated, because they really liked it) and we ate our last non-dining facility meal. For me, it was bangers and mash. Yummy!
The flight to Kandahar wasn't bad. Flying over the Middle East into Southwest Asia felt a lot like flying over the American Southwest. Lots of dirt, with mountains interspersed periodically. I'll admit, I did think about how much it would suck if the plane was shot down over Iran ... but since I am typing this several days later, it obviously did not, so no worries.
We ended up arriving in Kandahar around 4pm (local time) on Saturday the 13th. Not really sure where Friday went, but that's the miracle of flying around the world!
SO here are my first impressions of Afghanistan:
- Holy crap it is dusty up in here.
- I not a fan of camping, in general, so this whole tent thing is going to take some getting used to.
- How bad can a place really be, if there is a TGIFriday's?
- I never knew that chow halls could actually serve decent food! Kwaj ... take notes.
- I am a HUGE fan of not having to walk outside of my sleeping area to use the toilet, or to shower ... guess I'll have to get used to that too.
- They still make cell phones without cameras!
- The first time you hear the "rocket attack" siren, you're heart will pound as you hit the floor.
- Sitting in a bunker is boring.
- Khaki is the best color for this area ... you can't see all the dust on your clothes, unless you shake them out!
- While I may be in a war zone, I feel quite safe with the thousands of Soldiers, Airman, Sailors, and Marines walking around in uniform with rifles. And those are just the US troops ... hurrah for: the UK, Canada, France, Slovakia, the Netherlands, and several other NATO countries hanging out around here.
That's about it for now. I should go and pretend to do something productive that could be considered work related! I'll tell you more about what I will be doing in a later post.
Oh, and if you feel the overwhelming need to actually talk to me, or to send me a text, I got an Afghanistan phone number! It is: 079 735 1949. No idea how much it'd cost you to send me a text or to call, but incoming calls are free for me, and I can text you back. Please keep in mind, I am 9 1/2 hours ahead of EST and 12 1/2 hours ahead of PST. So your best bet is to call or text when it is late at night for you, wherever you happen to be.
I'll give you more job, location, etc detail next time. But not too detailed, as that would be against the rules. :)
Friday, November 5, 2010
DynCorp Recruiting
I suppose there are bound to be bumps in any recruiting process, and DynCorp is no different. It hasn't been bad, but sometimes they are not as clear as I would like them to be.
When I got the offer, I had 24 hours to accept or decline. (Obviously, I accepted.) Then you get an ungodly amount of paperwork to fill out, along with several medical/dental requirements. They send a checklist that gives requested return times for all the documents. Personally, I think it is wholly unrealistic to expect to get the medical and dental paperwork back within the requested 5 days. It took me a while to find an opening with a dentist, and it ended up being someone not on my insurance, so I had to pay out of pocket, though allegedly, DynCorp reimburses, up to a certain amount. I say allegedly, because I have not had the opportunity to submit for reimbursement yet, and therefore, cannot confirm through personal experience.
Part of the paperwork process is security stuff, so make sure you know where you've lived and worked over the last ~10 years. Sometimes it's just 7 years, but it's good to have 10 on hand, just in case. Also have 3 people that can vouch for you. If you can find people that already have clearance through the same agency (in this case DoD), I am told that makes things a little easier, because they don't have to question the legitimacy of the people you've put down. Oh, and if you are naturalized like me, make sure you have your certificate handy for the numbers on it.
Once you get all the paperwork done, you'll get cleared (or not) to head to Ft. Worth for in-processing. Before you get to Ft. Worth, though ... there's online training to do. If you've been in the contract world before, most of it you'll already know, but some of the country specific information is really quite interesting. They give you information on customs, traditions, etc of the coutnry you will be working in. My personal favorite part was the Hostage series. What to do if you become a hostage, etc. I was pleased to learn I knew almost everything they talked about from TV and movies. Turns out that Hollywood gets some stuff right.
And in addition to the online training, there is ... yup ... more paperwork! Woohoo! But this paperwork is kind of important ... who to contact in case something bad happens, etc. Obviously, important stuff.
I suppose the only thing that is bugging me at this particular moment (I'll be in Ft. Worth in 48 hours), is the fact that I don't know what I'll be doing in Ft. Worth, or how long I'll be there. I have a vague idea of what to expect, but nothing concrete. I like having things spelled out for me. I like knowing what to expect. I'm pretty flexible, but how can I plan and anticipate if I don't have the information I desire?
Meh. I suppose all things considered, it hasn't been a bad process, I would just prefer a little more information. Oh, and I would really like my flight to not be at 5:38am, but I suppose there is nothing I can do about that now.
When I got the offer, I had 24 hours to accept or decline. (Obviously, I accepted.) Then you get an ungodly amount of paperwork to fill out, along with several medical/dental requirements. They send a checklist that gives requested return times for all the documents. Personally, I think it is wholly unrealistic to expect to get the medical and dental paperwork back within the requested 5 days. It took me a while to find an opening with a dentist, and it ended up being someone not on my insurance, so I had to pay out of pocket, though allegedly, DynCorp reimburses, up to a certain amount. I say allegedly, because I have not had the opportunity to submit for reimbursement yet, and therefore, cannot confirm through personal experience.
Part of the paperwork process is security stuff, so make sure you know where you've lived and worked over the last ~10 years. Sometimes it's just 7 years, but it's good to have 10 on hand, just in case. Also have 3 people that can vouch for you. If you can find people that already have clearance through the same agency (in this case DoD), I am told that makes things a little easier, because they don't have to question the legitimacy of the people you've put down. Oh, and if you are naturalized like me, make sure you have your certificate handy for the numbers on it.
Once you get all the paperwork done, you'll get cleared (or not) to head to Ft. Worth for in-processing. Before you get to Ft. Worth, though ... there's online training to do. If you've been in the contract world before, most of it you'll already know, but some of the country specific information is really quite interesting. They give you information on customs, traditions, etc of the coutnry you will be working in. My personal favorite part was the Hostage series. What to do if you become a hostage, etc. I was pleased to learn I knew almost everything they talked about from TV and movies. Turns out that Hollywood gets some stuff right.
And in addition to the online training, there is ... yup ... more paperwork! Woohoo! But this paperwork is kind of important ... who to contact in case something bad happens, etc. Obviously, important stuff.
I suppose the only thing that is bugging me at this particular moment (I'll be in Ft. Worth in 48 hours), is the fact that I don't know what I'll be doing in Ft. Worth, or how long I'll be there. I have a vague idea of what to expect, but nothing concrete. I like having things spelled out for me. I like knowing what to expect. I'm pretty flexible, but how can I plan and anticipate if I don't have the information I desire?
Meh. I suppose all things considered, it hasn't been a bad process, I would just prefer a little more information. Oh, and I would really like my flight to not be at 5:38am, but I suppose there is nothing I can do about that now.
Monday, November 1, 2010
So, why Afghanistan?
So after I left Kwajalein, I got a job as a 'Training and Education Specialist' with the Florida Division of Emergency Management. My informal title was 'State Training Coordinator'. I got an office, and business cards, and it was cool. Long story short, the state doesn't pay worth a crap and I was only able to keep the job as long as I did because of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, because we were getting paid OT. There was also some political BS within the Division that I couldn't stomach, so I started looking elsewhere.
I had been looking at various contractor sites and ran across the posting for a 'FACC Specialist' with DynCorp, International in Afghanistan. (An FACC Specialist is a fire department dispatcher.) I had had a particularly frustrating day at work, so I applied for it.
43 hours later, they called and offered me a job. That made me feel kind of good. Of course, the night before, and earlier the morning they offered me the job, I had said, in a fit of frustration, "I swear, I am taking the next job I get offered". Did you know I ended up on Kwaj because of a dare? So, yeah, I have a history of doing stuff like this.
So ... here I am, packing to head to Kandahar, Afghanistan. I leave for in-processing in Ft. Worth, Texas on Sunday, November 7th. Wanna hear more about the DynCorp recruiting process? That'll be a later post.
I had been looking at various contractor sites and ran across the posting for a 'FACC Specialist' with DynCorp, International in Afghanistan. (An FACC Specialist is a fire department dispatcher.) I had had a particularly frustrating day at work, so I applied for it.
43 hours later, they called and offered me a job. That made me feel kind of good. Of course, the night before, and earlier the morning they offered me the job, I had said, in a fit of frustration, "I swear, I am taking the next job I get offered". Did you know I ended up on Kwaj because of a dare? So, yeah, I have a history of doing stuff like this.
So ... here I am, packing to head to Kandahar, Afghanistan. I leave for in-processing in Ft. Worth, Texas on Sunday, November 7th. Wanna hear more about the DynCorp recruiting process? That'll be a later post.
Yeah, so ... um ... hi!
Well, I suck at keeping things up to date. Unless we're talking about Facebook and Twitter. Blogs, my website, sending emails, or, gods forbid, actual paper letters ... yeah, total crap.
There is an excellent chance, though, that this blog will be updated more regularly for the next year or so. I plan on making it a sort of diary/journal of my time in Afghanistan.
We'll start with a little backstory in the next blog and continue on from there.
So there will be an attempt. Probably not daily, but at least every few days. It's a frickin' warzone ... there has to be stuff going on pretty regularly!
There is an excellent chance, though, that this blog will be updated more regularly for the next year or so. I plan on making it a sort of diary/journal of my time in Afghanistan.
We'll start with a little backstory in the next blog and continue on from there.
So there will be an attempt. Probably not daily, but at least every few days. It's a frickin' warzone ... there has to be stuff going on pretty regularly!
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