T-Minus 1,356 Days to Jesse's Return

So...it's March 16th...a month and some change since the last post...please don't kill me! It's been pretty hectic at school, what with turning in my enormous Extended Essay, my completed CAS notebook (a record of all the community service, creative, and physically active activities I've participated in in the last two years), and our impending IB exit exams. There is definitely news, though, and to summarize it: Jesse is a total badass.

So, after our tearful goodbye (okay, so it was really me doing all the crying, but still), I made my way through O'Hare International Airport in Chicago and waited for my flight to begin boarding for about two hours. When I landed, my parents were waiting to pick me up and I regailed them with the stories of my trip (which I'm sure nobody wants to read, so I'll spare you the agony) all the way home. Then I spent about two hours talking to my mom about Jesse and moping/crying about having to leave him. I wish I hadn't been so upset - I mean, I knew I would see him again soon, so why make such a fuss out of it? - but it's hard sometimes. I want to be able to tell him every day how much I love him and care for him and be able to tell him that in person, but I know that's not going to be possible for a while, so I get upset.

Anyway...when he first got to A-School, he was in holding company for a while - not taking classes, just waiting around until he was processed and indoctrinated and everything - but soon enough he was going to class and completing modules, or lessons, on the computer. By this point he had his things from home like his laptop and phone so he's been calling me every day since then and updating me on his progress. Oh, it was a few weeks ago now...I believe on his first day of class he completed 23 of his total 105 modules. This is because the modules consisted of a pre-test, lesson, and post-test, and if you score satisfactorily on the pre-test, you don't have to take the lesson at all, and, being as computer-savvy as Jesse is, he did this on most of his lessons in the beginning. After this he slowed down significantly, but he was still working his butt off to get all of his modules done with as quickly as possible.

So he continued, five days a week, calling me between 11:30 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. every day. "Waitaminnit, why?!" you may be asking me. Well, shortly after Jesse began his training, he was transferred to Bravo Battalion from Alpha Battalion, and unlike Alpha Battalion, Bravo members attend class at night, from something like 4:30 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. (don't quote me on that), and I was in school up until he had to report to classes, so I compromised. Honestly, I didn't mind it that much - I got plenty of sleep besides, and I got to talk to Jesse every day, which I wanted to do. A few days into his classes, he got stuck on a module dealing with radio communications and called me that night rather frustrated with this impediment to his progress. He quickly mastered the module, though, and continued on to the others. Somewhere in here he was appointed Deck Leader for Bravo Battalion, meaning that he handled calling role at musters and other things. Um...there's probably more in there, but the past two weeks have been such a blur to me I don't remember much. We suffered a rather severe family crisis on my end two weeks ago and the effects can still be felt all throughout our house. This aside, a few days ago, Jesse called me in the afternoon.

"Hi hon."
"Hey."
"What's up?"
"Hey - guess who's the Navy's newest IT?"

That was excellent. I was so excited to hear that he was finished with A-School, I almost screamed. To be exact, he finished in only 13 days - I believe two days sooner than the now-dethroned record holder. Yeah, seriously. I think I was shocked, though. He said that his instructors were flabbergasted. Because of how quickly he finished his training and because he maintained an average score of above 95% on his modules, Jesse is now a Petty Officer Third Class of the United States Navy. I can barely believe it. He's been enlisted for a whole three and a half months now and he's already made it this far. I know how hard he's been working and how much effort he's been putting into his training and trying to rise through the ranks, but I honestly did not expect him to clear A-School so quickly. I couldn't be more proud of him, and I'm so glad for the incredible success he's having thus far into his enlistment.

I know, it's not a whole lot of details, but I'm sure Jesse will post soon and tell me I'm wrong on just about everything I've said so far. After all, he's the one living it, so he knows better than I do what exactly he's gone through and in what sequence. However, I do have something I can tell you that I know is true. Last Friday, my entire senior class went on a field trip to Denver to see the Buddhist temple, eat lunch at a Moroccan buffet, and see an IMAX movie about the Ring of Fire. On the way, I was talking to a friend of mine who recently decided to get back together with her boyfriend of a few years. When he went to college across the country, they thought a long-distance relationship wasn't for them, that it would be too hard to maintain, but after she went and visited him over winter break, it was obvious to both of them that they wanted to continue pursuing their relationship, so they're dating again. After she finished her story and told me about how they're doing, she asked me about Jesse. I told her what he's been up to, how well he did in A-School, and that hopefully he'll be coming home soon for a short time. She told me how happy she was for us, then asked after a brief pause whether it's hard for me being away from him for such long periods of time. My answer: not really. Of course I miss him - I miss him more than I thought it was possible to miss somebody every second of every day - and sure, I have my times when I get lonely and wish more than anything that I could be with him, but I trust him and his judgment completely and I know that he's safe, happy, and is doing what he needs to do with his life right now, so what more could I ask for? It may not be easy to be away from the person I love most in the world, but sometimes people's paths in life diverge and force them apart for a time, and if that must be so for Jesse and I to stay together, so be it. I know that I've found somebody special and that just because I can't be with him as much as I would like, that doesn't mean that I can abandon him at the time he needs me most. I could never do that to anybody. So I don't think it's that hard to be away from him. This is just a challenge we're facing together, and in the end,it will be much more than worth it.

Boot Camp - Part One

Two months. How am I going to start? There's so much to tell.. so much has happened, and with it, I've changed so much as a person. I suppose a day-in-the-life of a recruit would be the best way to go about it. There's just so much to tell!


The first week we arrived at RTC was called P-Days - processing days - and were definitely the most confusing. This was it: time for change; time to shed everything that makes us civilians and become sailors of the US Navy - and it was one hell of a massive change! The first night we arrived there, it was about 1AM. We had to do routine processing things immediately, like signing some paperwork, taking a urinalysis, and getting yelled at for every little insignificant thing to boot! One thing was well defined: Petty Officers and Chiefs are not to be messed with. Just smile and nod - but wait - don't smile! I had been awake since 1am the night before because I couldn't sleep at the hotel, and everything was a mass of confusion and chaos. As soon as we finished the UA and some paperwork, we went to our first uniform issue. We had to put all of our civilian clothes in a box and change into our sweats. This was our first encounter with becoming accustomed to lack of privacy, since all the males were in the same room when we changed - as you could imagine, it was a little awkward, but we had to get used to it. Once we changed into our SMURFs, we sleepily marched from classroom to classroom, trying desperately not to fall asleep. At last, around 2:00pm, we were introduced to our RDCs: MMC Chenault (known fondly as Chief), PC1 Peckskamp, and AZ2 Simon. Finally we arrived back to our compartment and spent the next few hours labeling and stamping all of the stuff and clothes we were issued. Finally at long last, around 8:00 we were allowed to get into bed. After not sleeping for 60-some hours, you could imagine I literally went to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The next several days we spent learning to fold our clothes and helping our other incoming shipmates get their stuff stamped and put away in their racks. A lot of people have asked me what I mean when I talk about our 'racks'. A rack is a bunk bed where the whole platform that holds your matress lifts up to reveal a locker inside where each person stores their clothes, valuables, and other various odds and ends. There's not much space, especially in the part that actually locks up, so it's imperative to manage your space well - for the entire two months I was at RTC, I was putting my tetris skills to work!

After everyone in the division arrived, which took about a week, we started our actual inprocessing. Every single day that week we had to wake up at 4:00am to get dressed and march to the other side of the base where we had to take care of things like paperwork, a dental exam, and the dreaded shots. Oh yes.. all in all the total came up as 12. Fortunately though, they didn't hurt all that much. The corpsmen seemed to know what they were doing, and for the majority of the shots they used a needleless airgun that used high-pressure CO2 to inject the vaccine underneath our skin. I guess the reason why I didn't mind that so much is because the anticipation of getting the shots is what bothers me more than actually getting them. The only shot that actually hurt was the dreaded "peanut butter" shot. 1.2ml of Bicillin directly in the left buttcheek. We had to lean over a gurney so we didn't freak out and fall over - when they actually administered the shot, I thought 'oh that wasn't so bad', but I was wrong.. the first bit of pain I felt was them putting the needle in.. it really started to hurt when they actually injected the stuff. They have to keep it really cold to keep the bicillin cells from dying off - and they inject it cold, which is why they call it 'peanut butter'. It was sore for at least 3 days after that.. especially walking up the stairs! The only other part about inprocessing that sucked so much was having to wait so much. I will definitely admit I am 100 times more patient now than I was 2 months ago.

Of course everyone immediately thinks 'pushups' when they think boot camp - well, the day after we got our shots we were declared 'fit for full duty' which means, as we all feared, our RDCs could drop us at any time unless we had a medical document (called a 'chit') saying we were SIQ (sick-in-quarters, meaning we can only get out of our racks for chow or to use the head [bathroom]) or LLD (light/limited duty, meaning we can participate in training but not PT or disciplinary exercise, known as IT). Of course, as we had expected, they were keeping a list of people they were wanting to work out from the first day we got there - but most of the time we all follow the rule "one team one fight" meaning if one person gets dropped, we all work out. I think we worked out for almost two hours before Chief relented. As you could imagine, most of us didn't feel warm and fuzzy towards our RDCs by that point. It really was an eye opener though, and now that I look back, I can see how critical the first two weeks of boot camp were to start training discipline and military bearing.

Military bearing was critical. By that I mean you always stand at attention when talking to an RDC, you always call them by their correct title, you don't make eye contact with them, you don't move around, and you especially don't respond to them with 'yeah', 'yep', 'nah', 'uh-uh', or the like. That was the hardest for me - I'd always catch myself saying 'yeah', to which Petty Officer would say "how about a 'yes Petty Officer'?!". They also drove into our head walking with facing movements, i.e. pivoting 90 degrees to go around a corner instead of walking normally around a corner, staying to the right of hallways and sidewalks as if it were a street (which seemed odd to us at first), and the proper way to enter and exit offices, such as the Officer of the Deck (OOD)'s office:

1. Knock three times.
2. Upon hearing 'enter', open the door and take three 30 inch paces.
3. Stand at attention and sound off: (for example) "Good evening Chief. Seaman Recruit Daniel, Division 911 reporting, Chief!"
4. Upon hearing 'report', state your business.
5. When finished, about face, open the door, and request (for example) "Chief, respectfully request permission to carry on Chief?"
6. Exit when hearing 'carry on'.

Just little things like that took over our life. We 'respectfully requested' everything. If we said we needed something, they'd tell us 'all you need is 8-counts!' (8-count bodybuilders are a kind of modified pushup made to be more difficult). Because of how embedded military bearing was into our lives, sometimes I still find it hard to make eye contact with even civilians.

One relief we had in our long days of boot camp was chow time. The galley was by no means a place to relax, and talking in the galley wasn't allowed, which many people were worked out because they were caught talking at chow, but it was as much unwinding we could do besides going to bed. The food was decent. It was provided by Goodwill, which before I went to RTC, I didn't know provided food service. Now that I look back, I'd have to say the food was only good because we were hungry. The meat was kind of sketchy - pork chops were little gray bricks; the ham was kind of discolored. There were only a couple things that I'd really consider good - veal parmesan, and the turkey they had on Christmas. Other than that it was mostly unseasoned and tasteless. What most people don't know is that they actually had soda, cereal like Reeses Puffs and Fruit Loops, and desserts like pie, pudding, and the like. We were advised to stay away from it, and most of us figured out shortly after we started PTing regularly, it wasn't worth it. Speaking of PT, one thing that was stressed to us from early on was hydration. We were required to wear utility belts everywhere, and they had a canteen pouch with a 32oz canteen clipped to them. We were recommended to drink 10-12 of those a day, because you can still get dehydrated in the cold. I normally drank between 8 and 10, and I would constantly have to use the head.. which sucked before we were issued our utility uniform because we weren't allowed to wear our sweats in the head because they got fuzz balls everywhere and when they got wet they were extremely difficult to clean up.

In our first week of actual training, we had our first PFA - physical fitness assessment - at Freedom Hall. Being in the 'alpha' male group because of my age, I was required to do 46 pushups, 60 situps, and run 1.5mi in 12:30 or less. In reality, those standards aren't too difficult. Needless to say, I failed because of my leg injury a couple months prior to boot camp since I had stopped running completely for several months. Unfortunately I lost my DEP Advancement (from E-1 to E-2) since I didn't physically qualify. Freedom Hall is really cool though.. it's where we did all of our PT. It's like a giant warehouse with 2 levels that has 4 1/8mi tracks, cardio machines, a weight room, basketball and volleyball courts, and equipment for BASES. BASES was a PT program we'd do for about an hour on Saturday mornings that was supposed to be a full body workout and improve speed, stamina, and agility. We would take a warm up run around the track (about 5 laps), then break up into teams of 7 or 8. There were 12 stations in all if I remember right, and we'd move from station to station and do things like jump rope, agility rings, 300lb bag pull, powersteps (which are like little tables you step up on and down with weights lined up in a row), squats, 200m sprints, etc. BASES wasn't so bad, and PT in general could be considered fun, since it was really our only time we could go out and play in boot camp. Also in the first week we had to do our survival at sea class and pass the third class swimmer test, which consisted of jumping off a 10ft platform into the water, swimming the length of the pool, dead-man floating for 5 minutes, and floating with assistance of navy-issue coveralls for 5 seconds. In all it was extremely easy, though some of my shipmates, who I really wished there was some way I could help them, had never swam in their life and failed the test. For them they had to go back to the pool every morning at 6:00am for swim lessons until they could pass the test, and one female went all the way to the day we ran Battle Stations before she passed (which by the way we were all so proud of her when she did!!).

I'll be writing part two soon.. right now I have to muster with my battalion!

Who Ever Knew That Fructose Could Be Such A Wonderful Thing?

T-Minus 1,414 Days To Jesse's Return

I've just come out of anatomy where I managed to confuse a bunch of kids and get a high five from Mr. Bradley for knowing the physiology behind muscle contraction. My next class is organic and biological chemistry, right across the hall, and we have a test on carbohydrates. I stayed up until midnight the night before doing a combination of English essay, studying, writing Jesse his nightly letter and trying in vain to keep my eyes open for long enough to get anything done. As usual, I find my brilliant classmates cramming for "the easiest test they will ever take" - as Mr. Knight always tells us before we take tests - so I grab one of my friends and start going over which way hydroxyl groups are arranged on different monosaccharides, just to make sure I knew it. I wasn't really worried since I'm also taking HL biology (think AP on steroids), but it's always good to feel like you're getting some last-minute studying in. This is where the fun began.

"No, fructose only has five carbons, doesn't it? They're arranged in a pentagon, like this..."

"You'd be right, except that there's another CH2OH group right...here."

"Oh, right, gotcha. So it is a ketohexose."

"Exactly."

*buzzbuzzbuzz*

It's Jesse, my subconscious says to me matter-of-factly.

No, it couldn't be. He's in boot camp in Chicago and hasn't been able to call home except for that time on New Year's Eve when he couldn't reach me that his mom told me about. It's probably Mom or something.

I take out my phone, still vibrating.

847. That's not from around here. It's Jesse.

No, I insist, it's not. It's probably one of those "the warranty on your vehicle has expired" calls that I sometimes get even though I don't own a car. You can't get your hopes up every time your phone rings, it's just too unlikely that it's him.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

WHO ELSE ANSWERS YOU WITH "HEY" EVERY TIME ON THE PHONE? IT'S JESSE!!! my mind shrieks excitedly.

NO (isn't the denial sad?), it's NOT. Plenty of people answer the phone with "Hey." It's probably a wrong number or something...

So why hasn't he said anything else yet?

"Hello?" That's about all I could think to say.

"Clementine?"

"Yeah...Jesse?" I think it was right here that my brain shut down and I had to leave the room in case I fell over.

"How are you, babe?"

(Keep in mind that everything you just read happened in the space of about ten seconds, if even that.)

A little part of me died that Friday. I was so shocked and overjoyed and confused and elated and curious and frustrated and sad and so filled with the impulse to throw myself at him (except for the obvious fact that he was in Great Lakes and I...was not) that I just kind of stopped. Nothing mattered anymore - not the kids in the hallway seeing me nearly in tears, not my chemistry test - nothing. Time just stopped for the three minutes that I talked to him during the passing period between second and third hour, and before I knew it, the bell was signaling me to get back in the classroom and take the test. I was so flabbergasted that I didn't know what to say, even though a billion different questions were crowding my mind at once ("How are you calling me?", "Is everything okay?", "Do you know that I'm coming to Chicago in two weeks?" (that one was a no - he told me he'd gotten my letter with some pictures I'd taken in it the night before and I sent my announcement of attending PIR (boot camp graduation...did I already mention that?) the night after that), "What have you been up to?", and on and on and on) and Jesse actually told me to breathe. He will never cease to make me laugh, but it was a little weird that he could tell over the phone that I was having an episode. Anyway, we're both fine, the windchill at base was making it -40 degrees outside (I told him I was going to freeze, but I'm not sure he caught that part), he told me he'd almost forgotten what I sounded like and that the pictures I sent were beautiful, and he just sounded so...different. I mean, his voice didn't sound any different, but the inflections were more...self-assured, calm, collected...confident. I can't even begin to say how much that meant to me. Just the way he was talking told me more than anything else he told me. I knew in those moments when I heard him that he was just fine, that he was still the Jesse I know and love with all my heart, that he was conquering boot camp. I was so proud and happy for him that I couldn't help myself, and when I told him I had to go take my test, I think I heard his voice break just the teensiest bit. Both of our "goodbye"s and "I love you"s sounded a little strained - it was too much to ask us to sever that connection after such a short time. I closed my phone and walked back into the classroom, my eyes brimming with tears, and I barely got out "It was Jesse" to my friend across the table. I started the test and got about halfway through before the tears finally went away, but I had a really hard time not breaking down right there in class. It's been weird not having him around, so hearing his voice was almost too much. I'm okay, though. Knowing he's well is plenty to tide me over.

What an exciting end of the week! I've kept my phone fully charged and on my person 24/7 since that call, just in case he's on the other line again. Maybe it's too much to hope for, but he said he'd talk to me again as soon as he could, so I don't see the harm in it.

Missing You

T-Minus 1,421 Days to Jesse's Return

Whew, long time, no post, eh? I'm sorry I haven't been writing - after Jesse left, things at school pretty much went nuclear meltdown. We got absolutely hammered with homework, tests, essays, you name it, all in the same week, so I was here ripping my hair out while you all patiently waited for news from the front. Well, wait no more! Jesse has been in contact with me frequently so I have lots of things to relay to y'all. I'll start with his first letter:

12 December 2008

• Reported to base at 0130 hours (his flight kept getting delayed later and later so he called me on the phone a couple times because he still could) and didn't sleep until 2000 the next day.
• Issued drill boots, all weather coat, scarf, ski mask, gloves, watch cap, sweaters and BCGs (that's Birth Control Glasses...you get the picture), so he's not an icicle yet.
• Has been promoted to Division Starboard Watch (DSW), so he's now responsible for compartment security watches and the Deck Log, and he gets to yell at the starboard rank when they're marching in mass formation. He's still eligible for promotion to RPOC (Recruit Chief Petty Officer), supreme head honcho of the recruits of Division 911 (yes, that's really his division), but for now he does get a Petty Officer First Class collar device.
• Got a Bicillin shot in the butt and didn't pass out like 60% of people do and shall now forever have a splotch of blue dye on his hiney.
• Food's good and so's the coffee, so cold-turkeying caffeine isn't exactly happening for Jesse.
• Is required to get up and iron his uniform every single night (at the time of this letter it was 0200 and he had to iron in 15 minutes).
• He's very happy and feels in control of his life again.

Basically, "they're teaching me everything here: how to fold, iron, dress, walk, speak, stand, sit eat, even write [...] I feel almost like I'm learning how to live again." This letter was delivered to my grandparent's house in Nebraska a week after Jesse wrote it but I wouldn't be at their house until a day later.

25 December 2008

• "So far I reveilled at 0600, ate breakfast, came back to the compartment, and stood watch for 4 hours. I was just relieved of duty about 15 minutes ago, so I don't have much time left to write. I just wanted other people to enjoy Christmas holiday routine, so I assigned myself watch duty (which, if you're wondering is required 24/7, broken into 2 and 4 hour blocks)." Typical Jesse - always so selfless. Is it any wonder I love him?
• He had his first PI/DMI (Personnel and Dynamic Materials Inspection) and scored a 4.0 on Personnel, 5.0 on DMI and a 4.7 on the Phase I academic test (all on a 5 point scale). They're officially in Phase II of boot camp.

One pager this time.

Other information I've gotten:

• 8 inches of snowfall apparently is spare change to what they usually get up in Great Lakes. He says it's very beautiful, though.
• He had his first PT (physical training) test and did very well.
• He's ready to be done with boot camp...understandable.
• Boot camp graduation is on January 30 and he is due to report to A-School in Pensacola, Florida on Tuesday, 2 February 2009. After that it will be 11 weeks until he can come home for two weeks and then he must report to his ship.

I know, there's not much here, but keep in mind he is writing these letters to me (get your minds out of the gutter). The paper they're issued is super tiny, too: 6" * 8 1/2". It's also taken roughly 5 days for each of his letters to reach me.

That's all of the news I've received so far. I found out yesterday from Jesse's mother that he tried to call me on New Year's Eve but couldn't reach me, so then he called her back for my mom's cell number and still couldn't get through. Still, it's the thought that counts, and I know he misses me indescribably anyway.

He misses everybody else, too, for that matter. It's been great for me knowing that Jesse's getting support from all of his friends and family as well as from me and he really appreciates the letters. Just in case you haven't bee updated, this is his address as of now (it's changed with every letter he's sent me):

SR Daniel, Jesse, C
DIV 911 USS CONSTITUTION
BLDG 7101
Recruit Training Command
Great Lakes, IL 60088-3119

He writes it in all caps but that's required recruit handwriting - I write it just like I typed it, and as far as I know he gets all of the letters I send him.

To give my perspective on the experience so far, I've been doing fine. I miss him terribly every second of every day and frequently wish I could have him back, even if only for a minute, but that's to be expected. For the first two weeks after he left I was very sad and didn't really know what to do with myself since every minute of my free time for the past two weeks or so I'd spent with him. I even ignored my homework for that period of time, an excessively rare and shocking occurrence for me (ask anybody who knows me), even though I was already crunched with pit orchestra practice every night and performances three nights in a row. Jesse was my priority at the time, and rightfully so, I believe, since I wouldn't be seeing him for such a long time. After those initial couple of weeks was when we got inundated with work, so my thoughts became more concentrated on that, but Jesse was still at the forefront of my mind. When I found out his first letter had gotten to my grandparents before I did, I was itching to get to Nebraska and read it, and the first thing I did when we arrived at their house was inquire as to where it was. After that I worked on college applications for a week or so and submitted them, beat Guitar Hero: World Tour in a single day (it's my favorite videogame...don't judge me), read a lot of books and watched the episodes I missed in the first season of The Big Bang Theory which, if you haven't watched it, you need to - all while Jesse constantly ruled my thoughts. Funnily enough, right after Jesse left two things happened that made me think some higher power knew he was going to be disconnected from the world for a while: first of all, Chuck, a show Jesse and I watch every week together, was announced to be showing no new episodes until February 2nd, which is right after Jesse gets out of boot camp; and second, Club Tico, the dance hall we go swing dancing at, discontinued their biweekly swing dancing nights. Coincidence? I think not. Jesse's really gotta teach me how to do that.

Anyway, that's about how things have gone. I'm not exactly at my happiest, but I'm not depressed or anything. I just miss him...so much. I can't even describe the heartache I feel when I think about him and how I can't do anything for him except send letters, which I have dutifully done every day since he left, as I promised. I don't take promises lightly, which is why I'm following through with another one I made him: to come to his graduation at the end of this month. My parents weren't willing to send me, as I anticipated, so I've been saving up and I now have the money to send myself out with his parents and back home. I told Jesse I'd be there and I meant it, so now he'll get that back rub after all (his muscles are killing him after all of the training he's been doing).

It's going to be so great to see him again.

The Journey Begins

I can honestly say I never imagined I would be writing this note. It seemed this day would be one of those that just loomed for eternity, and no matter how much you thought you planned it out, or thought it out in your mind, it just wouldn't have a satisfying ending. Don't get me wrong - my last day at home, albeit minor setbacks like my PC dying (which fixing took most of my time today vs packing for A School) and having a flat in the Civic, was indescribably great. The reason of course why it wasn't everything I had hoped for was because it ended. Today wasn't supposed to end. I wasn't supposed to actually leave. I wasn't supposed to ever say goodbye to my family, my friends, the woman I love.. to be sent to the antithesis of modern society: no internet, no cell phones, no technology to speak of - yes, the only way to get in touch with me in boot camp is to write letters. I'm not complaining about this.. heck.. being away from email for 2 months will be pretty nice, but it makes it harder for people to get in contact with me. In fact, as soon as you arrive everything is confiscated. Everything. Yes, your clothes included. The minute you get there, a pair of sweats and a hoodie is waiting for you in your size and with your name on it. Also waiting is a box with your home address on it that you place everything you brought with you into it. Hair is cut a certain way, groomed a certain way, and everyone dresses the same - and you become a number.

Anyways, I had a great time having fondue with my family and my girlfriend, and getting to spend some time with her and pack my stuff for A School, but as soon as I saw the clock get close to midnight, a part of me broke.. the finality of everything came crashing down on me.. as I should have expected holding most of it inside for so long - just the thought of the smallest things, like "this is the last time I'll get to just sit here and cuddle for a long long time" or things like listening to music, having a late night snack, taking a drive, talking to friends online.. was just like tiny knives slicing through me. I don't even want to mention thinking about Clementine. I guess I'm finally starting to grasp the reality of the sacrifice I'm making now and it's sudden, and I know it's not 'the last time ever' that I'll be doing things, but it will be different.. and so far from any other changes I've gone through, even combined they won't be able to hold a candle to this one. At this point I'm literally lost for words.

I just wish I could have one more minute with everyone.
Thank you again for all your love and support. I will be on as soon as I can.

Final Preparations

T-Minus 12 Days to Boot Camp

Silly as it sounds, for a while it didn't seem like the day would ever come that Jesse would actually leave, but now that it's less than two weeks away...I don't know what to do.  I have so many conflicting emotions plaguing my mind right now and too many things to focus on at once, and I feel like I haven't spent nearly enough time with Jesse.  I guess that happens when you're an IB senior who does Science Olympiad and plays in the pit orchestra for Seussical the Musical.

The whole situation with my sister hasn't improved much.  All my parents ever do regarding her is grumble "behind my back" about this, that, and the other that she isn't completely on top of, which is very upsetting, and the other day she convinced me that she had gotten a bomb from one of her friends and was carrying it around school.  She knows perfectly well that I cannot take a joke when I'm stressed and tired, and that little stunt took a nice chunk out of my emotional health, which I feel is pretty much nonexistent at this point.  After school that day, I ran into our IB coordinator and totally broke down in front of her, and she told me that she's worried about how all of these things are affecting me.  She also told me that there's somebody in school that I can talk to, but getting over my pride and talking to a school psychologist probably isn't going to happen anytime soon.  I know it's unhealthy to let my emotions get bottled up like they have, though, and that's the first of my dilemmas...I mean, who am I supposed to talk to?  I can't talk to a total stranger - they wouldn't understand in the least what's going on with me; I can't talk to my parents, since they're part of the problem; and my friends can only do so much before they've reached the limits of their comprehension.  All that leaves is Jesse...but I can't just plop all of this emotional baggage on his shoulders and expect him to share it with me.  He's got enough to think about as it is.  I know that he always tells me that he's at peace with going to the Navy in two weeks and that he's not worried or anything, but I really think that, deep down, he's more anxious than he thinks.  Not that that's a bad thing or anything; I mean, who wouldn't be anxious about joining the armed forces?  All I'm saying is that I'm sure there are some things I'm not seeing or he's not letting me see for my health, and I don't need to add to them.  Plus, I have my other concerns about him...take last night when we were talking on the phone, for example.  He was telling me about his feelings about how he's lived the last couple of months, about his unfulfilling high school experience, his concerns about the labels that will be attributed to him based on the choices he's made, and I'll tell you, I had trouble keeping up with it all.  I'm not entirely sure how he does.  It was a lot to think about at once, and it seems to me like he doesn't have anybody to really talk to about these kinds of things, either.  What made it worse was that I'd already had a bad day since I found out that we have another musical practice tomorrow night when we weren't supposed to have on since the actors are somewhat lacking in their performance two nights before we debut, but the worst was that I didn't have any answers for him.  I really didn't know what to tell him to make him feel better, because I can't honestly say I've felt the same before.  And that killed me.  I can't stand seeing somebody confused or upset and know that I can't do anything about it because I haven't experienced it or I don't have the wisdom.  I'm only 17, for goodness' sake!  I wanted to say something, anything, to calm his tempestuous thoughts, but I didn't have anything to say (or at least nothing that would have helped).  I felt so terrible, and even more so frustrated, because I couldn't do something so simple for the man that I've promised I'll do anything for.  It's really hard for me when I come to those impasses.  I just don't know what to do, or think, or say.  The only thing I could think of to do was hold him, but I couldn't even do that!  Sometimes I just don't see what my purpose is if I can't even do those little things for him...

What's worse is that, for the next four days, I'm booked due to school, my work, and the musical, which is elevating my stress ever more rapidly.  He's leaving for four years in 12 days, and I haven't seen him since Sunday and won't until Saturday.  That's five wasted days.  FIVE!  How am I supposed to reconcile that in my mind?  How will I ever convince myself that it's okay?  That's just it: I won't.  I can just tell right now that this week, this one, unassuming week in the middle of November, is going to haunt me after he leaves.  I'm going to think back to these couple of days and say "There's when I could have spent more time with him.  There's when I should have been with him," and I don't know if I'm going to be able to stop it.  I mean, I recognize it fully well, and I knew that this was going to happen when I decided to go through with continuing pit, but...it just makes me feel so uncaring.  I love him more than anything or anybody in the world, and how do I show him that?  I tell him every night on the phone "I miss you, and I'm sorry pit's eating up my life."  Real nice.  I'm trying not to think that way, though.  After all, Jesse told me he wanted me to do pit, even though it means not seeing him for this week.  I was fully ready to tell Mr. Stucky that I couldn't participate this year, but Jesse convinced me to, and at this point, I don't regret my choice so much as I wish that the actors would have gotten it together enough last night to not necessitate a practice tomorrow, too.  That's the life of a musical, though...*sigh*

All I have to say is, thank heavens Thanksgiving break is almost here.  I need a vacation from school right now, and I plan to spend every minute possible of those five days with Jesse, come hell or high water.  Not only do I miss him, but I need him to know that I'm going to be with him every step of the way through his Navy career and that I support him in the fullest.  I may be upset when he first leaves, but I really truly am happy that he's doing what he thinks is best, and I hope he takes a lot away from this experience.  I believe that it's going to do him a world of good and that he's going to learn a lot about life and himself that will be important to becoming a part of the adult world, and even though he'll most likely be states away from me for all four years, he'll always stay in my heart and thoughts, and I'll be counting the days until he doesn't have to leave home again.

The Red Zone

T-Minus 13 Days to Boot Camp

Wow. I have to admit I was pretty taken aback typing that. Here I was complaining about how I feel like I'm stagnating while everyone else is going on with their lives, getting one step closer to degrees, careers, success.. I think it's suffice to say I've taken the last several weeks for granted. I can't believe in now less than two weeks time I will be stepping off a plane in Chicago O'Haire Airport with nothing but the clothes on my back and my Social Security Card, soon to be stripped of my identity and dignity all in the name of becoming part of the team. Here I am. The last 10 yards: the red zone.

The last several weeks since I last wrote here have been interesting, hectic, and most of all, stressful. I've been dealing with a running injury - a lateral microfracture to my left fibula, that's kept me off the treadmill for too long. Even worse, I was unsure if I was able to talk to my recruiter about it in fear of getting medically disqualified, so I had to 'risk' seeing a doctor in hopes my medical records wouldn't be accessed. Dejected, I pretty much gave up going to the gym for the last few weeks despite my need to maintain my physique for the rigors of the NAVPFT. However, the day I got an MRI which helped determined what I had done to injure myself, I had to take the DEP physical readiness test, which included running a mile and a half. Fortunately I had gotten some real nice running shoes with much more cushion than the cheap $20 Target brand-x shoes I was using before, and this helped a lot, but it was still pretty painful to run flat out. I was able to complete it in 11:01, almost a minute slower than I had been running it before my injury. I didn't do nearly as well as I wanted to, but I was relieved it was still a good time considering I had taken 2 weeks off of running and was injured. Today, three weeks later, I decided to hop on the treadmill and jog slowly for a little bit to assess my recovery and pain threshold. It still hurt a little bit, but it was more of a dull tightness than the burning pain I was experiencing before. I heard a story about a guy that had to be in a cast during A School because during boot camp he suffered 8 lateral stress fractures in his leg with a degenerated tendon and stress fracture in his ankle in his other leg - he wasn't deemed unfit for service, he just had to stump around in a cast for a few weeks.

Aside from dealing with my running injury, I've been studying hard for the Boot Camp Personal Qualification Standards, which assures an automatic promotion if you pass a test when you get to boot camp. It sounds like a pretty good deal to me! I aced the DEP PQS test, so the boot camp PQS shouldn't be tough at all. Chief Brim, the recruiter in charge at NRS Fort Collins told me you can volunteer, or get picked to be an 'RPOC' (pronounced ARE-pock) - Recruit Chief Petty Officer - depending on the Recruit Division Commander that is, which gives you special duty to help the RDCs oversee the recruits. It's a tough job and adds more stress to your life at boot camp, but if you succeed you are eligible to get automatically promoted. If all goes well I could leave RTC as an E-3.. 18 months ahead of schedule! Chief Brim told me if I want to go for it I should try my hardest to stand out to the RDCs. They want to have RPOCs that know their stuff and have the balls to take risks to show devotion and leadership to the group. He told me the only thing to watch out for is coming off as just being cocky - that if I try to impress them, to be able to walk the walk as well as talk the talk to get the job rather than just being PT'd to death. I'm going to go for it.

As far as how I've been feeling lately, it's been very mixed. I've been anticipating leaving for a long time, but of course I still don't want to leave my family, my friends, and the woman I love. However realistic that is, the time is almost here and I've been oddly peaceful about it. My number one concern hasn't been Clementine leaving me from loneliness and despair, so much as her being hurt by my choice and feeling abandoned. We've talked about it, and she's finally began to convince me that what I'm doing makes her happy because she knows it's good for me, and although she won't have me around for the greater part of four years, it's a short time in retrospect, and she'll be able to deal with it. However, all I want for her is to have a good life, feel loved, and know she has someone who's always there for her no matter what, and frankly I'm not going to be able to fulfill that role while I'm away. I don't doubt she'll be able to manage on her own - she already does for the most part, I just wish I could provide her with the safety and security of being able to come to me with any of her problems, fears, thoughts, or ideas - that and I wish I would be able to actively reciprocate her love for me, rather than hoping writing a letter letting her know I'm thinking about her will really be much help. I don't know if I'll ever feel like I did the right thing in regards to my love; I can only hope and trust she means it when she says she's not destitute, indigent of my love, or angry. As always, I know it will be a stressful four years for us, but for the first time I feel peace and I know that by the love we have for eachother we will make it through and only grow closer. If only I could be there to hold her and comfort her for the first few weeks I'm gone..

We're celebrating Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Years all in one day this year.. that will be interesing. Even more so what I'll get for Christmas considering I won't be able to take anything with me.. and the premise of celebrating a holiday.. not on that day. Speaking of which, I'll be at Great Lakes for Christmas and New Years, and they have this program known as Operation Adopt-A-Sailor for Christmas Day. Basically, families from Chicago churches are able to bring a sailor in boot camp home with them for Christmas Day to eat dinner with them and spend the day with them. The premise seems somewhat odd to me.. spending Christmas with a family you don't even know.. but I will be more than greatful to be able to kick back a little bit and relax after the rigors of P-Week and T1/T2 (military jargon for processing week when we get paperwork, physicals, and more shots than humanly possible done, and training week 1 and 2) and not have to have the RDC breathing down my neck everywhere I go. Maybe the family would even be so kind as to go to 7-11 and get me a Bawls or SPIKE or maybe a Starbucks Peppermint Mocha. I think that would be the best Christmas ever if they did that. :) Yeah.. I'm an addict.. lol.

I think that's about all I have to update for now. I'll be sure to write several times before I leave, but until then, thanks for reading and don't be afraid to leave a comment!