mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The people who see me more than anybody should� Well, here we are. Another Friday has arrived, and we now only have two more weeks until we are off for Christmas Exodus. Translation: two weeks to not think a single thought about being in the Air Force. And I couldn't be any happier. But I think part of that has to do with the wonders of a little purple pill called Wellbutrin. And since I am feeling a lot better than I have in the past three or four months, I have been able to sit back and think of the really great things about being in this hellhole. Even though I was transported from being fully independent and autonomous and placed back into high school, there are some really redeeming qualities about this place. One I'd like to talk about in today's entry is the class that I got lucky enough to end up in. We started out as a class of eighteen. We had one Marine in the class whom we called "The Marine" and one sailor in the class whom we adoringly called "Navy Girl." Since the Marines' and Navy folks' weather schools are considerably shorter than Air Force weather schools, The Marine and Navy Girl have already gone off to their respective posts. The Marine is soaking in the sun in Hawaii, and Navy Girl is living it up in Spain. That left the class with sixteen. One girl got sick and had to "wash back" into a class or two behind us. Another girl that nobody liked � including our teacher � somehow failed a test and washed out of our class. That left fourteen, but only twelve students are allowed in the "advanced" Air Force weather school, so two of our people had to go back into a smaller class just a week behind us, giving us twelve. We've since had three of our original eighteen fail a test or two and go back a few weeks, but they still come by and visit our class. All of the teachers who have had us have told us that we have a "very strong class dynamic." Our class, for some reason, got really close over the past twenty-plus weeks. We have four prior service folks in our class (all Staff Sergeants) who we at first thought would be complete assholes, but they have proven to be just one of us. We look at other classes whose prior service folks milk their higher rank for everything it is worth, bossing people around and just making life miserable. Our class, on the other hand, is as loose as the characters on "M*A*S*H". When you are around the exact same small group of people for ten hours a day, five days a week, you get to learn a lot about each of them. A guy named Gannon is really into nutrition and dieting. He is really in shape, and he loves his protein very, very much. But the excess protein constantly plugs him up, and we are usually treated to bathroom stories after he takes Ex-Lax. He's also very honest and will tell you the truth whether you want to hear it or not. Crouch is a guy from Colorado, your typical "Any Guy USA" frat boy. I've noticed that the whole mood of the class follows his moods. He is generally upbeat and keeps us all laughing, but when he is having a bad day, the whole class can feel it. Compton is a girl from Texas who is a single mom. She loves two things in life: her little boy and Texas. Pretty typical of any girl from Texas, from what I have seen. She is blond, and every part the stereotype. Just yesterday I brought a "Mad Libs" book to class, and I asked her to give me a noun. "Run," she said. She's very motherly, and I constantly tell her she is the class's "Mummy," a reference to "Peter Pan" that she doesn't get. She's getting stationed in Louisiana. Dematteo is� unique. She has her Master's degree in forestry, and she's very much the "earthy" type. She takes handfuls of herbs every day, and she strongly discouraged me from taking my happy meds. She didn't want me to put chemicals into my body when I could take St. John's Wort, Sam-E, Fish Oil, and Vitamin B and get the same result. She has traveled everywhere around the world and has lived in more places than you can imagine. The good thing about that is, well, obvious. The bad is that you never have roots in any one place and can't really call a set of traditions or regional differences your own. She tried faking a Southern accent for a few days, but I put down the law on that one. The rest are the Staff Sergeants. We aren't allowed to mingle with them outside of school, but that's a rule that we sometimes bend. There are very few rules here that I keep. If every rule I broke came out into the open, I could quite seriously be sent to jail for a little while. But you have to do what you can to survive, and some rules are just stupid. Don't follow rules just because they are rules, I have always said. Follow them because you believe that they are sound. I got the wrong job. Anyway, our class is really great. It is like daily group therapy. We talk very openly about all of our problems. Since I can't write in this every day, I pretty much tell the whole class what I would normally write on the diary. They love the "Mandy the Psycho Lesbian Ex" story, and every time we get a new teacher they make me tell it. They were the ones that made me go to the doctor about the depression. They keep up with how that is going. We all are aware of the bad, good, and ugly things Compton's kid does. Crouch really misses his family back in Colorado. It's just an amazing class. I could see myself keeping up with the people for the rest of my days. But, in reality, I know we are all going separate ways soon. That tends to dissolve such close bonds. But who knows� Maybe we'll keep in touch. That's it for me. I have a busy weekend ahead of me. I have a Christmas party up in Hattiesburg tonight. I'm supposed to come back down and run for two miles Saturday morning, but I don't know if that will happen. Saturday night, I am going to a hockey game. And Sunday I will do laundry all day and watch movies. I have discovered that I am quite the Woody Allen fan. Who knew? I'll try and get another posting up Sunday. Yall be good to each other. 7:30 p.m. - Friday, Dec. 05, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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