My Days in the Military Part 6: Computers

The Air Force uses computers for a lot of things. For instance the manual I used to fix jet engines was on a computer, be it a armored heavy duty computer that only has one function: the manual.

The computers were checked every now and then, usually annually if I remember correctly, and had a sticker saying they were serviceable. If they were found to be unserviceable the computer would be replaced with a slightly newer model, most likely from the late 1990's (Because the Air Force can't afford newer computers though we used them EVERY day, faster computers means job gets done faster people! Get a thing called common sense!)

So knowing this you will understand the scene of what I found it one morning:

The scene gave me a good laugh before I had to go through another boring routine of work (This is before I was allowed to work on the engines and had to clean up after everyone).

Why I Don't Trust the Male Gender

I have rules for dating. Most women do, and I am no different. My rules are based on previous failed relationships and my mother's mistakes.

One thing I noticed is that I am tired of dating immature boys. I would like to have an intelligent conversation with the guy I do decide to date. So one of my major rules is not to date anyone younger than me. My range for dating is my age to about two to three years older than me.

However, life does not agree with me. Old creepy guys often flirt with me, and over the past few months guys too young for me have hit on me too. I am not talking about a year younger, one was almost five years younger than me and the other is currently three years younger than me.

My pastor, who is about two years older than me and my classmate knows about my problems of younger guys wanting to go out with me, he did not know about old guys hitting on me.

So on the way back to the church he decided to tease me about it, the perfect opportunity made itself known when a redneck guy in his forties (so about twice my age) pulled up next to the car I was a passenger in and checked me out. I noticed and looked away. Pastor Mike noticed and probably grinned like a maniac. What I am sure he didn't realize was that not only was his window down, but so was the redneck's window...

So all in all my pastor did something that I didn't think was possible... embarrass me more than my mother has done in the past.

Well done Pastor Mike, well done.

My Days in the Military Part 5: Morale

Morale is a word you are most likely to hear throughout your military career. To the upper ranks it is the lifeblood of the Air Force (or any other branch) to the lower ranks it is codeword: pretend to give a crap. Morale is the nemesis to the mechanics I worked with. How were we expected to be happy when we were forced to work 12 hour days and have to deal with the upper rank morale instigators which made some Airmen (myself included) just want to shoot themselves.

Some of the upper ranks, such as Hoyt who worked in the office, understood what us lesser ranked Airmen felt, and had a candy jar that we could take from when we needed a little sugar rush to pretend we had Morale.

Thus he dubbed the candy jar the Morale in a Jar

My Days in the Military Part 4: Briefings

In the military briefings are as common as birds in the sky. You are required to go through most briefings annually, some much more frequently than that. They are often very boring, some include videos, most include PowerPoint. The ones who are unfortunate enough to be the one leading and teaching often have what they say memorized. They like leading the briefings just as much as the people forced to sit through them. It would be the perfect excuse to get a nap in if you didn't have to take a test on it afterward, which forces you to stay awake and attempt to not let your mind wonder. And of course failing the test would include you getting yelled at by your supervisor, and then you have to sit through it again. Most briefings are now conducted on a computer, but some of the more boring ones are still taught by an instructor.

In this briefing it was the latter. Stuck in a cramped little room with nothing but white walls, a screen and desks more uncomfortable than the ones in High School to sit in. The briefings done in person were known to be about an hour long.

Sometimes they were longer than that for "technical reasons"

Sometimes the briefings can be slightly entertaining

My Days in the Military Part 3: First Person Shooter Games

Most Airmen, or military personnel, like to play video games. For most of the mechanics I met these video games were narrowed down to the category of First Person Shooters, or at that time, Halo. I was not a part of this group for I personally like RPG's and don't like talking to other people, but this was not the case for my fellow male coworkers.

Robin was one of the male mechanic Airmen that enjoyed First Person Shooter games. He often complained to me about the British people that he often played against (seeing as we were stationed in England I did not find it that weird). Robin was very dedicated to his game, he had the wireless remote, the headset to talk to the other players to tell them how stupid they were and cuss at them while playing; the works. In his attempt to get me into his world he had me play, and I sucked, I died almost instantly and refused to play again. I could not understand why someone would want to pretend they are in a war when we could be deployed at any moment and have to actually live it (and he eventually was).

Seeing as we were in England the forecast was it's usual overcast self. The sky decided to let loose it's bowels and it began to pour violently, with the added effects of thunder and lightning. Robin was engrossed in his game, as per usual, since we were not at work 

The following conversation will be shown from what I saw, on the screen of his television.

Because it is difficult to read the conversation in the picture:
Brit123: Eat Lead
Robinhood343: You suck
Brit123: HA
Robinhood343: Dude, your country sucks!
Brit123: Why do you say that?
Robinhood343: Look outside
Brit123: You're in England?!

My Days in the Military Part 2: Dorms

Military life often means dorm life, at least for the enlisted members under the rank of Sergeant (E-1 TO E-4). The dorms are often small, shared, and during the weekends very loud.

This is an example of just how confusing the dorm situation actually was. The dorm building that I lived in was the largest on base housing all the mechanics. So hilarity, but mostly stupidity, can, and did, ensue.

My Days in the Military Part 1

The Air Force is supposedly the most difficult branch of the military to get into. You have to score higher to be considered to go in and the height and weight requirement is more difficult to bypass than the other branches. It is also very hard for other branches to get into the Air Force. So, one would think, logically, that the Air Force would be the smartest of the military branches, and I thought this too when I went in. But when I entered the "Real Air Force" (or finally got out of basic and training) I found out exactly how wrong I was. I was with a bunch of idiots and it slowly started to eat away at me until I got to the point that I broke apart. After three years of trying to forget and work through the emotional trauma of my life in the Air Force I am finally ready to start talking about my time in my personal hell.

These stories are 100% real and the names are changed for the protection of the idiotic, and if the names aren't changed than their ranks are, because I doubt they are still in the same rank when I left, or still in the military whatsoever.

Spiders Part Two: The Stocking Spider Incident

Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy. Last Christmas it was destroyed by spiders. I lived in a sun room at the time with The Random One and to make it more Christmas-like I put up Christmas lights using paperclips and securing them to the foam on the ceiling, which is used to make the room less hot during the day. But it didn’t seem like the room was merry enough, so I decided to put up a stocking. I used one of the plastic hooks meant for the shower to hold a razor; and used the suction cup to stick it to the window and hung the stocking. I thought it looked nice. Little did I know that my nemesis would not only move in there, but he would bring his roommate with him.

I did not realize that this was happening until I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, and my eye caught the spider sticking his head out of the stocking and although it was about five feet away from me I swear I could see his fangs, his fangs of death.

 

I literally rolled out of my bed onto the cold concrete in a panic, a panic worthy of an oncoming tornado, or hurricane. I was terrified. The stupid evil creature of terror had made his home in my stocking.

 

And of course I have an arachnophobia reaction to the Stocking Spider, since it is so close to my bed, and so close to my body and face. The fear of being near the stocking because of the spider soon spread to the half of the bed the stocking was beside, and soon the entire bed. I was afraid to sleep in my bed because of a stupid spider.

After forcing myself to actually climb into bed I would stare at the stocking, and the spider would poke its head out mocking me, almost seeming to say “You sure you want to sleep tonight? Are you afraid what I will do to you in your sleep?” Yes. My phobia of spiders basically made them out to be rapists. I honestly don’t know how I actually went to sleep with those images in my head

 

I do know that I did have nightmares, and about freaking spiders no less. When I awoke though… my terror throughout the night was combined with two spiders now watching me, craving my blood. Was my stocking some sort of fraternity?

 

Anyway, I refused to sit on my bed that night and The Random One looked at me like I was an idiot.

The Random One was tired of my antics about the “Stocking Spiders” and was reaching her boiling point since she was studying for class

 I put on a brave face and grabbed a shoe. I climbed on the bed and was able to look down on the Stocking Spiders. They looked creepier than ever, so I stepped off my bed. But I couldn’t give up, this was a great chance to release my phobia over the little evil creatures. So I stepped up again, to step back down. I felt like a malfunctioning robot. The Random One got annoyed at the squeaking of the bed and my whimpering. She grabbed the shoe and climbed up on my bed.

 

The Random One quickly hit the stocking with the shoe twice, and with a sudden movement, as quickly as a flash of lightening, grabbed the stocking and threw it on the floor.

 

I stood at the doorway watching this in complete shock and terror. When The Random One was finished stomping and jumping she looked at me like “That is how it is done”

“There” she said and I stood stiff as stone as I looked at the stocking drenched in fear.

“What if they are still alive?” I asked my younger sister

The Random One sighed and said 

 

So I went and got a bag, and The Random One stuffed the stocking and the Stocking Spiders and she zipped the top of it, squeezing out the air as she did so. She dropped the bag and went back to her homework. I kicked it under my bed, and it stayed there for over a year.