Remembrance

"The country that sent us off to war was not there to welcome us home. It no longer existed. We answered the call of one President who was now dead; we followed the orders of another who would be hounded from office, and haunted, by the war he mismanaged so badly.
Many of our countrymen came to hate the war we fought. Those who hated it the most - the professionally sensitive - were not, in the end, sensitive enough to differentiate between the war and the soldiers who had been ordered to fight it. They hated us as well, and we went to ground in the cross fire, as we had learned in the jungles.
In time our battles were forgotten, our sacrifices were discounted, and both our sanity and our suitability for life in polite American society were publicly questioned. Our young-old faces, chiseled and gaunt from the fever and the heat and the sleepless nights, now stare back at us, lost and damned strangers, frozen in yellowing snapshots packed away in cardboard boxes with our medals and ribbons."
From the prologue of We Were Soldiers Once...and Young by Lt. Gen. Harold G. Moore (Ret.) and Joseph L. Galloway (and yes, I've used this quote before, but it seemed fitting)

Spawned by SFC B's recent post and last night's airing of We Were Soldiers on CBS, I felt compelled to write my own.

I'm a daddy's girl, ask anyone who knows me. I'm a spoiled brat, hence how I earned the nickname 'Princess' at the gym. I've always looked up to my father and I've always felt closer to him than to my mother. He served for in the Marine Corps for three years during the Vietnam War. Some would say, "That's it? Three years?" but others know that's far longer than necessary, especially with that war. I always felt like my dad's service took something away from him, and he rarely talked about it. He talked about being a Marine and boot camp (he still laughs about certain memories from San Diego - he was a Hollywood Marine), but rarely about Vietnam. Part of me was hurt because I felt like I didn't know him really. Once I got into college, I started researching the war and doing projects on it as much as I could. I learned things I didn't want, nor need, to know. Most of all, though, I think I learned more about my dad and the other vets that served.

I remember when the first group of Operation Iraqi Freedom were coming home. My dad was livid. They got the parades and celebrations that he never got. He felt shafted. He spoke about it once, and I think that's when it hit me. These men and women who are serving today got something he never did - respect. Sure, there are still the protesters here and there, but more importantly, there are the supporters. Rarely can I take a trip in my car without seeing someone with a yellow ribbon on their car or some sort of "Support Your Troops" sticker. People today are much more educated on how war works than they were during Vietnam. They are able to separate the troops from the leadership. They understand that those who are over there giving their lives are not the ones who decided to start the war, or continue it for that matter. This was something many people didn't understand during the Vietnam era. Like Lt. Gen. Moore said, "Those who hated it the most - the professionally sensitive - were not, in the end, sensitive enough to differentiate between the war and the soldiers who had been ordered to fight it." I'm thankful that we can acknowledge that difference today, but at the same time, pissed that we couldn't back then. We're making up for lost time nowadays as we realize the error of our ways from the 60s and 70s and make some sort of restitution to those vets who so valantly and selflessly served for no reason other than patriotism and pride (bonuses and benefits weren't as abundant those days as they are now). There are times when I'll see someone wearing some sort of Vietnam vet paraphanelia and I want to go up and thank them, but I know how hurt my dad was about his service and I don't want to step on toes.

SFC B talked about how when he was younger and his trip the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial. I, too, made that trip once. It wasn't on some patriotic holiday or anything, just some time during the summer when my sister and I were off from school. My parents have friends that live in Baltimore, so the trip to Washington D.C. was just a day thing. To be quite honest, I was more excited about seeing the pandas at the National Zoo than I was about seeing the war memorials. I was 8, what do you expect? I didn't understand why I couldn't go be with my dad as he walked the length of the Wall. I do now. The names on that Wall are people he served with. Brothers in arms who he never again saw. SFC B considers his dad one of the lucky ones, because he got out alive and unscathed, physically or mentally. However, in talking with my dad, I know that's not true. My dad always said he was one of the unlucky ones, the ones who got out. The ones who have to live with those memories every day and every night. The ones who are still haunted by their service, no matter how long or short it was. The ones who still jump at loud noises, a remenant of dealing with bombs and arty attacks (my dad passed this on to me, as anyone at the gym can attest to). My dad has a shirt that says it best - "I'm guaranteed a place in heaven because I've already served my time in hell."

It's because of the selfless service of those before me that I choose this path with my life. Sure, I could go on to do great things in the civilian world, but what would it matter? What purpose would I be serving? I have all these backup plans in case the military doesn't work out, but they're just that - backups. I'm thankful for every Soldier, Marine, Airman, Sailor, and Coastie who has served and who continues to serve today. As I write this, Billy Ray Cyrus's song "Some Gave All" is playing on the radio. I'll leave it at that...


All gave some and some gave all.
Some stood through for the red, white and blue,
and some had to fall.
And if you ever think of me,
think of all your liberties, and recall,
some gave all.

Just a Note

...I bitch a lot. I really should have a more positive attitude.

Where'd I Go??

"Seriously, you have put forth so much more than anyone I have ever met. When you do get in, you will go far. People with your drive and discipline are the ones who make a difference."
My friend John

This is from my MySpace blog, which is nowhere as cool as this one is.

Prepare for a vent...

It's one of those days when I don't even know why I bothered getting up. I got on the scale today and was not happy. At all. I'm smart enough to know what I need to do (eat more and eat more frequently) but too stubborn to do it (well, if I eat more, I'll gain more weight...if I cut my carbs, I won't have the energy to run...etc etc etc...). I feel stuck right now. I have no purpose in my life, other than Friday, Sunday, and Wednesdays when I'm actually expected to be somewhere. And even with that, I'm replaceable. I'm 22 years old, I have a college degree - but no experience in anything - and I live with my dad. I've spent the last couple years trying to do something with my life (namely, serve my country), but even that doesn't want to come to frutation because I'm too 'fat' or 'overweight' or some other stupid means that the military uses to determine whether one is 'fit' for service. It doesn't matter to them that when I'm actually motivated to train right, I can run a sub-8:30 mile (sure, not exactly great, but I'd love to see what the average entry-level female enlistee's run time is...) and knock out 25 pushups in a minute. *sigh* But, because I don't weigh less than 160 lbs or measure under 36% body fat (according to Army standards, which are completely arcane and pointless...christ, learn to use calipers!), then I must not be 'fit.' I used to love working out; now it's a chore I dread. I used to love running, but not anymore. Trying to fit into someone else's mold has ripped apart who I am. It goes against everything I stand for, yet it's what I want. Explain that one to me! Explain how I, Chelsea Rider, love to do things that set me apart in some way, but at the same time want to do nothing more with my life than join an organization whose training focuses on, among other things, beating the individual out of you. It's like everywhere I turn, there's a brick wall in my way...I keep trying to tell myself, "Nothing worthwhile in life is easy," but honestly, does it have to wreak this much havoc on my life? I should be happy, but I'm not.

I'm beginning to lose my patience with myself, more than anything. I want the girl I was last summer, when I would be at the gym EVERY day, trainin' my little heart out...LOVED working out. Could run 5 miles easily, with energy still left in me to Spin for 80 minutes afterwards. Those were the best workouts. And now, the only motivation I can find in the mornings is to get up and turn my alarm off at 0415 then crawl back in bed. This past week, I worked out twice, with two half-assed workouts thrown in for good measure. I've had to work all week, and all I wanna do when 1400 comes around is crawl into bed and sleep. So I do. And sleep some more. I try to surround myself with motivating things, but it doesn't help. I'm reverting to old ways, which is never good.

Wow. That was long. I'm sorry. It's just one of those days when I question my own purpose for getting up anymore. Yuck.

In Case...

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet."
Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Just in case y'all care, I got a new AOL Instant Messenger name. It is:

iRiSHSuGaRBuTT

That is all. Carry on.

Sorry Randy!!

"Never quit. It is the easiest cop-out in the world. Set a goal and don't quit until you attain it. When you do attain it, set another goal, and don't quit until you reach it. Never quit."
Bear Bryant

So, right now, I think I'm under a Tornado Watch...maybe not anymore, but we were...and lemme tell you, I hate severe weather like that...when I was younger, I used to pile all my teddy bears (well over 150) in blankets and drag them downstairs, so in case a tornado did hit, the bears would be saved! *sigh*

Anyway, I've been working all week. My boss ruptured his Achilles' Tendon last week, and had surgery on Tuesday. So I've taken his place for the time being. He'll be back Tuesday...can't say I'm disappointed. It's kinda boring during the day at the gym. So I sit there and read shit. I studied for the Border Patrol test yesterday. Holy shit. Because of the nature of the job, Border Patrol Agents need to speak Spanish. So, part of the examination is either a Spanish profiency test or an Artifical Language Test (it tests your ability to learn a language). Lemme tell you, that part about killed me...I sat there behind the desk staring at words like "almanlek" (government) and "liaker" (to injure), conjugating and genderizing and pluralizing and past participling...*sigh* Obviously, these are not real words...but it got to the point where sentences like "Vollenefoz kapleknefozae synzotim more yevnefae failek" made sense to me!! Oh man...haha...and this guy came up while I was trying to conjugate some word, slammed his gallon jug on the counter scaring the shit outta me. I wanted to get up and smack him. Hard. I couldn't concentrate again for a while.

After I got home from work yesterday, I fell into bed and slept for four hours...and then again...and again...and I could not get up in the morning...I finally had to drag myself outta bed so I could get to work. Blah. Well, in the meantime, my mysterious vanishing Army recruiter reappeared. He called yesterday, but because I was in various states of sleep, I was not in the mood to answer the phone. And he called again today. So I called him back..."Hey, lemme call you back in five minutes, I'm at the gas station." Okay. Did he? No. Blah.

I've got a confession to make to the blog world. I'm in love. With an Airman. *sigh* Haha...for real though...


My Zoomie

He graduated on the 19th...I couldn't make it down to Lackland (no cash)...but, my mom is moving to Dallas (I have no idea why any SANE person would move from DENVER to DALLAS!), and he's Tech School is at Sheppard AFB, about two hours away. Yay. Happy girl. It sucks that he's gone (for now), but things happen for a reason, right?? His mom and I go to lunch about once a week. It's hilarious - the first time I asked her to lunch (to be a good girlfriend and take care of his mom while he's gone), she thought I did it because I was pregnant!! I about died laughing. The other night, I had dinner at their place, and Mike's sister and her boyfriend and daughter were there, too. It was cool. His sister is like, "Welcome to the family!" I feel like I've spent more time with his family than with him!! At least in past 6.5 weeks I have. I'm glad we get along. Granted him being in the Air Force doesn't help my decision at all...at all!!

Let's see...what else, what else! Oh, yeah, Marines are a no go. I mean, part of me would love to be a Marine, but another part of me wants intel experience, which the Marine recruiter kindly told me he could not guarantee me a slot in the intel field. Don't get me wrong, I've said it once and I'll say it again: I'm joining to serve my country. But, at the same time, I'd like to be able to walk away from my military service, either in five years or twenty years, with some intel experience under my belt. Oh well, such is life, eh?? I know the one person in my life (or at least, was) told me to join the Marines because I'm 'hardcore,' I just can't do it.

Hmmm...I think that's all, really, that's been going on. Nothing, really - par for the course, eh?

OH!! GO HEADBUTT A BULLET!!

Always Questionin'

"Exercise and physical fitness obviously require time and effort. But to excel -- and why bother to undertake an undertaking unless you expect to exceed -- you must have passion. Passion is unbridled enthusiasm, energized desire, inner excitement. It is not going through the motions, aimless poking along. Passion comes from within, from the heart, and it is stimulated by an outside source, motivation. Traced to its roots, passion is kin to inspiration."
Dave Draper, Confession of a Lifter

Hmm...I guess I should probably update this thing since I haven't had a real update in a while, eh?? First, and the worst of my news (I think), my poor Colorado Avalanche got swept outta the second round of the Finals. SWEPT! For those of you who aren't familiar with sports terminology, to be swept (v.) means that one has not won a game in a whole series. Since NHL Finals are best-of-seven series, it takes four games to win. Basically, my Avs lost four straight games. Four. Straight. Games. Lost. *sigh* The only thing that kinda takes the sting outta it was that at least they made it to the second round...unlike another a team I'm quite unfond of.

Let's see...what else...Oh. I haven't heard from my Army recruiter in weeks. I hear from the Marine and Air Force recruiter at least once a week. I've learned that, with this particular Marine recruiter, you cannot not talk to him for a coupla days, or else he gets all in a panic that you're dead or something. I went to Chicago last week for a few days to visit my best friend (it was her birthday), and I lost my phone. Found it (please don't ask where) and had like, 15 voicemails and a coupla text messages from him. It made me laugh. I had no way to get ahold of him because I didn't have his card, so the last time I was at his office, he gave me his card..."Now you don't have an excuse!" Damn. He's pretty confident (which is reassuring) that he can get me in the Corps by the end of the month (today is the 20th...there are only 11 days left of the month) and ship on the 5th of June. See, unlike the other branches, if I can pass an Initial Strength Test with a semi-first class score, they can get me a waiver for my weight and stuff. Now, I don't understand why the Marines can do this, but no other branch can. Granted...that flexed arm hang kills me. I have the weakest grip EVER. *sigh* It's only a minute of my life...haha...

...so, yeah, I can become a Marine, but do I want to? That's the question I've been wrestling with ever since the recruiter dropped the news. It's in my heart to be a Marine, but is that enough? Of course, I always tell people to follow their own hearts...take my own advice, eh?? I over-analyze every little decision I make...but this one is a big'un! Think it's time to write a pro/con list...is it bad I'm having this hard of a time deciding on a branch!?

In the meantime, I've been applying to FBI/CIA jobs that I get in my email that I might be even minimally qualified for. It just sucks because I lack any law enforcement experience. My dad apparently is gonna work his charm and get me a spot as a reserve deputy on the Sheriff's Department. It's unpaid, but law enforcement experience. I still have the test date for the Border Patrol on 20 June 2006, so that's good to go...I've also enrolled in some online classes through FEMA and the National Emergency Training Center. Currently, I'm enrolled in "Principles of Emergency Management," "Introduction to Mitigation," "Emergency Response to Terrorism," "Introduction to Hazardous Materials," "Diaster Basics," "Hazardous Materials Prevention," and "Introduction CERT." What can I say? I like to keep myself busy...They're all self-study, so I go at my own pace. Gives me something to do at work, that's for sure. Plus, makes me more marketable to say I've taken such-and-such courses through a government-funded agency, ya know?

That's really all that's been going on. I picked up one day at work. Woo. Friday and Sunday are mine!! Hahaha...although, my boss just injured himself, so I might get some morning shifts, too...WOO! Unless of course they give 'em to the new kid. In which case, I'd quit. Fuck 'em. I've worked there for over two years. *sigh*

Quickie!

From the halls of Montezuma/To the shores of Tripoli/We fight our country's battles/In the air, land, and sea..."
Marine Corps Hymn

Take the quiz:
Which Military Branch Do You Belong In?

Marines
You are a gun-ho Marine! You are willing to do everyone's dirty work (with the help of the Navy.) and you are willing to risk your life for your country in the biggest way!

Quizzes by myYearbook.com -- the World's Biggest Yearbook!

...that is all.

Mota, Mota, Gotta Lotta Motivation!

"Don’t blame the mirror for an ugly face."

Blah. Man oh man. Okay, I lied. I don't 'gotta lotta' motivation. I'm lucky to get in ONE workout a day lately, so two has been outta the question! *sigh* Just in one of those moods where very little seems to be going my way...Plus, my piercing is infected...again. Fuck. *sigh* After it heals, I'm taking it out. This is too much hassle for a cute piece of metal that looks weird. Besides, I'm sick of people coming up and asking if it hurts. Especially drunk girls who want to touch it. I flat out told her, "You touch it, and I will beat your ass." Hah. I'm a bitch. =)

I'm not even sure why I'm blogging right now. Maybe it's because I haven't since the 2nd? Not much has happened since then. My Avalanche have been sucking big time against the Ducks, so I'm none too happy about that. I did, however, put my "Red Wings Suck" bumper sticker on my car. Let the wrath begin.

Other than that, I've been in a very antisocial mood. I went and saw yet another recruiter the other day, thanks to my sissy. I guess he goes into her work place and she tells him about me. He used to work with my current Station Commander. I told him I'd come in again today, but I changed my mind. I let him know I'd much rather continue working with my current recruiter and that I appreciated the time he took to talk to me. He's good people, but so is my recruiter. I don't blame him for anything that's happened. We've been working together on this Army thing for about a year, and I'm not one to give up so easily. Speaking of my recruiter, I went to lunch the other day with my friend's mom and as I was driving to the restaurant, I roll up next to this guy in ACUs on a motorcycle. I knew it was the SC because he's always talking about his bike, and really - who wears ACUs in public in a non-military town except recruiters and those on drill. He didn't notice me, or cared not to acknowledge that I was RIGHT NEXT TO HIM! Eh. Anyway, about two hours later I get a phone call from my recruiter..."So it was really nice of you to wave or something earlier. I passed you on the road." I didn't realize he was RIGHT BEHIND the SC. My bad. I laughed. He was like, "I was in my truck (very distinctive), how could you not!?" Well, I was too busy avoiding the wrath of the SC in leather. =)

That is all.

Oh...and I noticed that there are hits on my blog from Ft. Jackson. I swear, I hope it's not a future Drill Sergeant of mine!! The last thing I need during Basic is DS to start ripping on something that I said in my blog...although it would be quite funny...I don't need to be laughing during Basic, though!!

Stepping Stone

“Please tell your government and everyone in your office to go fuck themselves.”
Henry Rollins (sooo hot!)

Haha...my sentiments exactly! Kinda. So, I've been thinking a lot lately. I'm 22, right? Yeah, I am. Army cut-off age is 42. I got twenty years of eligibility left. I should get out of Michigan and get a real job. Or another degree. I was looking online earlier today and found a shit-ton (that's a lot in the metric system) of openings for Border Patrol Agents...Hmm...It's a phsyically demanding job (for the most part), would be in an area that I got my degree in (Criminal Justice), and is in National Security (Customs and Border Protection is now part of the Department of Homeland Security). I figure I could put in some time doing that, save some cash, gain residency in Texas (where they're hiring), then apply for grad school at Texas A&M to get my Masters in International Affairs with a concentration in National Security Affairs. After all that, I could then re-try for the military and still be relatively young. I'm just trying to have a backup plan, ya know? My body can only take so much of one thing at a time...

...oh, and I went to a bodybuilding show this past week. I got bit by the competition bug. I could do that shit. Man, there was this one girl on stage in the figure division that should not have been there. She had to be a good 170lbs and sitting at well over 30% body fat. She had no defintion whatsoever! It was sickening. I wanna know who told her she looked good enough to get on stage in a figure suit (ever seen those things!?). I mean, I'm in better shape than she is! OH! If I did do a show, it would be a drug-tested one. I couldn't hang with the 'roided up shemales. There was one sitting behind me and I swear at first I thought she was a gay male with whacked-out fashion sense. Hell, even when she talked, she sounded like a gay guy. It wasn't until her friends started calling 'her' Rose that I realized she was infact a 'she' who happened to be on steroids. I kid you not, she looked like Chris Kattan's Saturday Night Live character, Mango - that is, if Mango did steroids:



Apparently she was 2005 Novice Michigan Bodybuilding Champion...

The two shows I've considered doing are in late September and early October. Maybe. I talked to my friend, who's a competitor, and he's offered to help with the diet and training if I'm serious about it. We'll see. Maybe.