Reflections of my life

Why is playing with bubble wrap so much fun? I wonder if it's only a guy thing, cuz I've never seen a woman play with bubble wrap. I'm serious, everytime I see a guy with bubble wrap, it's like I'm being controlled by an unknown source, like I have to join him and pop the little bubbles.

I've been watching the TV show scrubs and I have to say, I love the show, it's actually causing me to lose much needed sleep here, and so far, from what I've noticed, it's the only thing here in Iraq that causes me to giggle like a 4 year old ponytailed girl.

I've never been big on thinking about what if I die. Which is weird because for some morbid reason I think about what would happen if other people that I knew died. People like my boys here, or worse a relative of my, or one of my parents. I know I'd be devastated if my mom passed away. I wouldn't be able to function for a long time, Alcohol would definitely be involved. But that got me thinking what IF I did die here? How would my mom handle it? I really never gave it much thought till this moment because of the way I see life; if it happens it happens, can't stop it, so why fear it. But to realize the effects of it....it's starting to affect me. Not so much scaring me, but more so in a sense feeling pissed off and weak because there's nothing I CAN do to stop it, to stop the inevitable pain and anguish others will feel if it does happen. My mom raised me single handedly and tried her damndest to make sure I was raised right. I used to fault her so much because although she tried her best, due to the circumstances, in my eyes at times when I was younger....it was never enough. She's sacrificed so much for me, she wanted me to do well in college so that I can have the better life that she didn't have, and in essence, I've so far failed her. I've ran away from the hardship of adulthood and ran away head first into war. I tell others that I can always finish college, that it's always there for me, so why not have some fun in the Army, mature myself, learn more about myself, to see what I'm made of, and yet, at the end of the day I know what she said is right. I did run away.

I didn't like how hard "life" was...Making sure the bills were paid on time, the rent, the gas, the electricity, the student loan, the car insurance (that even she helped pay for) the water bill, the cable bill, the cell phone bill, the goddamn credit card bills. All had to be paid at different times of course, this on the 1st, this by the 18th, this by the 27th. I squandered away the money I had from my 1st deployment away in less that 6 months back...patrying, buying stupid shit, living the care free high life....without even facing reality. The result? missing payments, phone getting shut off, grades going to shit...and at the end of the day who's there for me when I need her? My mother, it's embarrassing still having to go to the parents when you need a bail out. To have to look into her eyes see the disappoint and yet hope that eventually I'll come through and finish school, and land a good job; to make her truly proud of me, it was painful, so what do I do? I run off and go active duty, join the infantry of all jobs. I didn't even think of any of that at the time. I just figured, fuck it, life sucks, paycheck to paycheck sucks, all this responsibility sucks, fuck it all, I remember when I was in Iraq I didn't have to deal with any of this shit, don't have to worry about groceries, the bills, working to get good grades, plus I'm good with all the Army shit and the Army life. So here I am now, running away....

All I can think of now is that when I get out, I'm gonna go back to college and get my shit straight. But the truth of the matter is, the most likely outcome is probably going to be histroy repeating itself, and I wonder if I'll be finally strong enough and mature that to stop that from happening.

So when people thank me, and say how proud they are that I'm protecting them, and all that patriotic gibberish, I feel embarrassed, because the truth is..I'm not a hero or brave or any of that...I'm just a coward. No more, no less. If I did die here, I think the biggest fear is that my mom will think she failed me, and I can't let her feel that way, She deserves to feel proud. I can't just sit on my ass and hope eveything's gonna be alright. I gotta get done with this tour, and finally own up to it all and become a real man. To finally, make her porud. I can't let her down. I won't let her down. I've fucked around in life enough. This time I gotta do it right.

Observations

Alot has happened in the last month, I don't even know where to start. We had a huge mission, but in all reality we were the bitchmaids and didn't get to participate in the offensive assault part; we played the outer security-freeze-balls-off-and-do-nothing-while-you-watch-other-soldiers-air-assault-into-combat role.

Other than that huge mission that the news glorified but we really in important terms had no part in, life is decent.

I've come to pretty much adopt the arabic word Insh'allah. I use it when things don't really go the way we expect, like stupid army shit happening? Insh'allah. The word itself is deeply rooted within the Muslim religion, I suppose it's translation loosely means the will of god, or god's will. From what I've read, in Arabic culture, the word itself is used in 3 ways. In Iraq, from what I've gathered and understood, they use it as a form of hope, like hopefully none of my men in my company will get hurt, Insh'allah. Or when things go wrong, Inshallah...God's Will. The third is the the most unique to me. In Iraqi culture, and maybe even the rest of the Arab world, saying no is regarded as rude, so instead so saying no, they say insh'allah. In essence, if it happens it happens, if not, then not. Insh'allah.

We've finally settled in and started getting used to a somewhat manageable rotation of Guard and Patrols. I hate being on Guard. Most of the time I'm on the roof by myself watching the rear of the Patrol Base, which is how I like it, because during the day the IA guys hang out up there and at night I get to walk around rather than stay in the turret like I would if I were in other guard spots. We do four hour shifts and at times it can be mindnumbing. I'm not gonna lie, there are certain things I do on guard that I'm not supposed to do, but I do it to stay awake. During the day it's interesting to watch our Local Iraqi neighbors go about their everyday lives, oblivious to the fact that I'm standing on the roof gazing at them through my binoculars with child like interest, wondering the most random things about them.

Life here is starting to get lonely. It sucks going through your second deployment alone, without a signifcant other, someone you can confide in and know that they care, someone who, you know is probably missing you and thinking about you right now.

One thing that constantly blows my mind even though I know it happens all the time is the amount of pending divorces in my unit. So-fucking-many. One of my guys check out his wife's myspace only to find a picture of her and another man together as a profile picture, one other guy's wife is moving to colorado all of a sudden and took all the money, funny thing though, is that he's only pissed off because she's taking the dog too. It sickens me the fucking weak willed women, abandoning their husbands because they're, like they're the only ones? It's bullshit. That's why however long I'm in the Army, I will refure to be married. I won't be the one who says "It'll never happen to me" and then see my wife ruin me. I'd never recover.

Living in such cramped areas and seeing the same fucking faces day in and day out is starting to agitate me as well. The little things are starting to pile on and eventually I'm gonna just blow up. My only solace and respite from going insane is a book I recently bought about backpacking and traveling the world. It's a book called Half-time by Steve Devereaux and its my wonderful escape from this place.

I initially intended on saving most of my money from this deployment, but now, no more. My mom needs help with bills and such, and it really pisses me off. I mean, not pisses me off, but it just sucks not being able to have an income to for when I get back. To be able to say I live comfortably instead of the paycheck to paycheck lifestyle that I've lived on ever since coming back from Iraq the first time would've been nice. But she needs help, and there's no way in hell that I won't help my mom when she needs it. She's done so much for me that I feel like an utter schmuck when I think about the way I've behaved in the last 10 years or the dumbfuck ignorant things I've said to her or thought about her. I wish I could go back in time and redo the way my mom and I have gotten along. Oh well, Insh'allah.

I'm really interested in Islam, I mean, I'm not a religious person at all. I'm a firm believer of karma, but religion in general is just an interesting subject, especially Islam. It's very unfortunate that most Americans are too lazy or too scared to learn about the truth of Muslim people and learn about their culture and their history, rather than be bullied around into being scared of it. In the time that I've been here I've gotten to know our Iraqi Army Soldiers, they live with us here at our PB, eat with us, sleep with us, patrol with us, smoke with us, and joke with us. They are some of the kindest, most genuine people I've ever met. They are a true representation of the Average Iraqi and true muslims.

I've started getting care packages from people again and feel like shit that I haven't responded to them with a thank you email, but it's like one of those things that you wanna do but you never get around to, where you say I'll do it today, but by the time you remember it, it's too late. Take that example and pretty much repeat it everyday.

Oh, speaking of packages, I was a witness to an amazingly unbelieveable event today. I don't know yet whether to be appalled/bewildered? or be gracious/thankful.

I was on guard today when word came over the net that we had to secure the LZ for 2 blackhawks to lands. This kind of stuff is typical, about once a week. Usually it's someone coming in to check up on things or whatever random reason.

Today however, I noticed that when the birds touched down, the only things I saw offloaded were boxes and packages. I wondered to myself what they were? Highly Sensitive Items I bet, who knows.

So I get off of guard and go downstairs, not really thinking about the boxes, when I see the boxes. I stood there, looking at them, thinking "No, those can't be what the birds dropped off." So I asked, and sure enough, they were.

The boxes that the Army deemed fit to send via Blackhawk Helicopters to us were care packages. Oh no, but these weren't "normal" care packages, these were not the typical care packages that thousands of Americans send to soldiers, not the same packages that get transported to us via convoy whenever we stop at the main base. Oh no. These were SPECIAL packages. These care packages that the Army spent thousands of dollars in fuel as well as putting multi-million dollar helicopters at risk of attack and not to mention risking the lives of soldiers by securing the LZ itself were special because the care packages were sent to a high ranking General. Somehow, someone way up in the food chain thought it wise to blackhawk packages to us that were sent directly to the General. Now I understand the idea of it maybe boosting morale, the oh cool factor, but seriously, do you realize that you put the lives of my men at risk for some cans of chunky soup and baby wipes and sardines? SARDINES!?!?!? who the hell eats those things?? like 1 out of 20 people like sardines!!! Do they not realize that not even a year ago the same PB we live in now took routine small arms fire and even an RPG attack that killed an interpreter? That if something had happened and one of my brothers died, it'd be not in the heat of battle that my brother gave his life for his country, but for a can of FUCKING Sardines!!

*Sigh... Insh'allah

See what I mean now when I use my new multi-purpose favorite word?

Cigarettes

As much as used to hate and utterly despise cigarettes, it's amazing that I can now categorize every time I do smoke.

I'll start with the good ole "Morning Cigarette". Like today, it's 6:12 am, cold as fuck, and yet, there I am shivering outside in the courtyard area, smoking my wonderful cancer stick.

Next comes the "I'm so fucking bored out of my mind" cigarette which can come in 2 variations. The first is the typical nothing to do so you and a pal go through this stereotypical sequence. Fuck man, it's boring as hell. Let's go smoke, wanna go? Ya sure. Aw shit, Yo, you got a light? Ya? ok good, let's go. The second is the holy-shit-when-the-hell-is-guard-over-it's-so-boring-wow-that-Iraqi-girl-looks-hot-in-my-bino's-ohmygod-it's-so-boring-let's-see-what-time-it-is-WHAT-THE HELL-I-HAVE-2-MORE-HOURS-LEFT...I need a cigarette

Then you have I'm-so-fucking-pissed-off-the-army-is-dumb-as-shit cigarette, like for example one of my guys, after a long day of stupid shit, just snapped over a simply trivial thing when he stepped on a milkbox while cleaning out one of our trailers. Man, was he pissed, it was pretty much a slew of good educated words of "Fuck man, Fuck this shit" What Happened? "I got fucking milk on my fucking pants, fuck this shit, fuck the army, my pants are all wet now, fuck! and then its gonna dry and smell sour, fuck this, Hey man, give me a cigarette, I need a fucking cigarette, (and then the god given line) "You got a light?"

Of course there's the pre-convoy brief cigarette, which can almost be put in the same category as the this is boring cigarette category, but I think it gets its own.

What else, oh yes, the after dinner cigarette, where you don't really feel like getting up from the table outside, and just feel like chilling, but you can't just sit there, so you light one up.

There's the embarassing before I take a crap cigarette, not gonna go into details about that one, but let's just say, things come out better in the end.

There's lately been the ok-movie-is-over-lets-go-smoke cigarette

And of course the before I sleep cigarette. That about sums it up. Yup

This doesn't mean I condone smoking of course, this is just a neccesary evil, to keep us all sane.

Either way. Fuck you Big Tobaccao, you scum sucking cocksuckers.

What makes a Soldier

Soldiers come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes and states of sobriety, misery, and confusion. a soldier is sly as a fox, has the nerve of a dope addict, the stories of an old sailor, the sincerity of a politician and the subtlety of Mt. Saint Helens. He is extremely irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible.

A Soldier is a Soldier all his life.

You can kick him out of your house, but not out of your heart.

You can take him off your mailing list, but not off your mind.

They are found everywhere; In love, in battle, in lust, in trouble, in debt, in bars... and sometimes behind them.

No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you. No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter, clean clothes or a pack of smokes.

A Soldier is a genius with a deck of cards.

Brave without a grain of sense.

He is the PROTECTOR OF AMERICA, with the latest copy of Playboy or Sports Illustrated or GUNS & AMMO in his back pocket.

When he wants something it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, or, most importantly, a good woman he can count on.

Girls love'm, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them, the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together.
You can beat their bodies but not their minds.

You can tame their hearts but not their souls.

He likes girls, females, women, ladies and the opposite sex.

He dislikes small checks, working weekends, answering letters, missing chow, waking up, maintaining a uniform.

You may as well give in. He is your long distance lover...

He is your steel eyed, warm smiling, blank minded, hyperactive, over reacting, curious, passive, talented, spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry...And he will seek out and destroy anyone who hurts you in anyway.

...and he will ALWAYS be there for you regardless of how long it's been since you've last talked.

That's the deal with a Soldier.

There goes the neighborhood

I would like to put some things out in the open.

Let it be known that:

1) Last night on Patrol, when we set up an OP along the river, I realized that I smelled, really really bad. But the smell was a familiar but "couldn't put my finger on it" smell. It wasn't straight B.O. but something else, and I realized what it was.

I smelled like Souvlaki, how I ended up smelling like that delicious greek dish, fuck if I know

2) Just because you went to college, does not make you god, nor does it give you the right to treat the people that you're in charge of like retards that need their hands held. There are people in the unit who' s current deployment is their 3rd tour, YOU DO NOT NEED TO TELL THEM ALL THE TIME TO TURN ON THE DUKE. Thank You.

3) It's been put out by our resident "Chief Stomps On Fun" that the PB shall have no caffeinated drinks, no Rip Its, even no FUCKING soda, but don't you dare take away his coffee. SERIOUSLY?

4) When there's a commo blackout due to a death in the unit, that does not mean that the people in the TOC are excluded from that ARMY WIDE rule. WE CAN HEAR YOU'RE MESSENGER MORON

Ok, I'm done getting that out.

Been out patrolling the last few weeks, nothing big, but damn it's exhausting, it has it's moments though.

We lost someone in our battalion to an IED last week, it was unfortunate.

Fucking Pressure Wires are the new big thing now, pretty much no way to stop it as of late.

Morale is a unique creature here, it's low in the essence of the stupid shit, but high because of the comraderie, so let's call it bearable for now.

I seriously need my packages to get here, I need my cigarettes and my power cord to my laptop.

We got a TV and XBOX 360 set up in our PLT room, we call it our room the RAPE ROOM. Why? Don't ask me how it came to be.

My cook found a random stash of kimchee in the cooler connex, fuckin awesome is all I can say. Shitter #3 and I are going to get to know each other reaaaal well in the coming weeks.

I end this post on my plans when my enlistment is over in 2010.

Re-enlsist? fuuuck no

I am goin to New Zealand :) Hell Yes

I found an article that's titled " What's a good overseas program for a lazy guy?"

That's all I'm gonna say.

Insha'Allah my friends, Insha'Allah