mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of MEPS Off I go... Today is the day I've been preparing for since the middle of March. I've lost close to twenty pounds (9.09 kilograms for all of you metric weirdos) and six percent body fat. Granted, that is measuring via the screwed up way that the military measure you. But still... six percent of fat down the drain. I've gone from a tight 36-waist jean to a loose 34. When I started, I couldn't see the button on the top of my pants when I leisurely looked down. When I get back tomorrow, I will (God, I certainly hope so...) be in the Air Force. I am leaving here in a few minutes to go get briefed on everything that will occur in the next 36 hours. I woke up this morning at 6:15 so I could meet my recruiter at the gym for one last workout. I'm bushed. What I am meaning to say is that I won't be writing much today. Partly because I am excited about going, partly because I am already exhausted and am finding it hard to conjure up decent sentences. "But JP, what will happen to your diary when you go off to boot camp?" Good question, and I have done a lot of thinking about that. I have a really good friend who just got a job working for the Wall Street Journal. I have known him for over five years, and I trust him as a hard worker and a great writer. No, he's not taking over my diary. But he will be kind of a contact point for me. I have been told that I will have enough time to write letters while at basic training. If I can write letters, I can sure-as-hell write diary entries. So, I will hand-write diary entries, mail them off to New Jersey (where the Wall Street Journal moved after 9/11), and my good buddy will type them in for me. As far as I know, I will keep the very first Blog/Diary straight from boot camp. A lot of talk amongst journalism purists argue that blogs are NOT a form of journalism. I tend to disagree, in general. My diary in the past: not a form of journalism. But I think it will take a very interesting turn once I head off to the land of push-ups and latrine duty. So, I will write when I get home tomorrow to tell you all how it went. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I will need all the luck in the world when it comes to them measuring my waist. Damn love handles. 8:38 a.m. - Tues., June 11, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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