I don't need a better thing

Part II

It was both the longest and the shortest drive of my life. It felt like it took a lifetime to get to Tree, but then I was right there, skirting the cops and parking my car in front of the ambulance.

The ambulance.

Oh, and the Jeep, on its side.

Parked, shut my car off, jogged up the hill.

Tree was standing on the sidewalk looking small and about to cry. As I got closer, I took stock of his body parts: Arms, two. Legs, both there. Face, not bleeding. I eased my arms around him, afraid to squeeze a broken rib or fractured arm I might have missed.

He was shaking, vibrating, and talking a mile a minute - to me, the cops, the owners of the fence he destroyed when he rolled the Jeep across their lawn. 

He kept laughing, almost mechanically, about how he managed not to get any of his freshly-bought coffee on his ACUs - but there was blood on his pants, along the opening to his pocket. His fingers had been cut in the broken glass and were bandaged, but still bleeding a lot. "Can you get more bandaids?" I asked. He vaguely shook his head. He'd refused transport to the hospital and the EMTs had driven away almost as soon as I got there.

Standing a few yards away was a dazed looking man in a navy blue sweatshirt. "Is that the guy?" I whispered to Tree. He nodded. "So what the hell happened? Did he fall asleep or what?" Tree didn't know. I gently hugged him again and looked further up the hill at the man's car, which had come to rest, on all four wheels, in front of a mail box on the other side of the street. "Are they going to cite him?" Tree shrugged and shushed me.

The man walked over to us hesitantly and apologized (though Tree later told me he had already apologized about a hundred times). He told us a friend was coming to pick him up, but that Tree should call him if he needed anything. He gave us his business card. "And, uh, I really appreciate you serving our country." Then a truck drove up and he hopped in and was gone.

"So, it's pretty clear what happened," said one of the cops, walking over. "You can see where he crossed into you lane, and where you went up onto the sidewalk to avoid him. And we did cite him, just so you are aware." Tree nodded. I nodded. The cop continued, "I should have the accident report completed by this afternoon, tomorrow morning the latest, and you can go pick it up any time." His hand-held chirped, and he walked away.

The firefighters were standing in a little cluster near the Jeep, quietly talking and waiting for the tow trucks. The first one took the man's Cadillac, because it didn't need to to be flipped over. We all waited some more. The air still smelled like fog. The elderly couple with the ruined fence went back into their house.

Tree kept talking, crazy laughing, rubbing the lump on his head, flexing his cut fingers, checking the time on his cell phone. He was late for drill. "I think they'll understand," I said. I just wanted everyone to go away and Tree to stop talking and be still. He kept squirming out of my hugs but I persisted, pressed my cheek against his chest. My eyes finally filled with tears at the realization of what could have happened.

The second tow truck finally came and helped the firefighters flip the Jeep back onto its wheels. Coffee dripped out the broken driver's window. Tree picked up the severed sidemirror and handed it to me. "Souvenir," he said and went to dig his bags out of the back of the Jeep.

We thanked the firefighters, the cops, the tow truck guy, and got into my car. "I have to get to drill," he said. He also wanted a new coffee.

"it's just another thing for me

I just have to wander through this world

alone"

- Pete Yorn "Lose You" -

hold me like this is the last time

Part I

"Nik, wake up! Wake up! Tree was just in an accident and his phone died! Are you awake?"

TD was banging on the door, and groggily, I sat up.

"Wha-"

"I don't know, he just called and said he was in an accident and then his phone went dead. I don't know what happened." He was breathless, still standing outside the closed door.

I don't remember getting out of bed or finding my phone, but then it was in my hand and I was dialing Tree, feeling numb, like that sensation right before you vomit but when you know it's coming. He answered right away, sounding panicky and far away.

"I'm- yeah. I'm ok. I rolled the Jeep. I'm ok."

He told me where he was and hung up. I threw on the jeans I'd worn the day before and a sweatshirt and went out into the living room, where TD was pacing around with a cigarette.

I found my keys and purse. "I don't know what happened, he said he's alright. He's near the clinic I guess." I jammed my feet into my shoes and added, unnecessarily, "I'm going there now." He nodded.

Down the stairs, driveway, into my car, the street. 

All I could think was fuck.

"when I wake up in the morning

and you're beside me..."

- Alicia Keys "Like You'll Never See Me Again" -

indeed a fool am I

So - 

Recently I've begun to admit to myself that I can't keep riding along with no college degree. It's embarrassing, but here I am, 23 with nothing to show, really. And it's sad, fucking pathetic actually, because I know I have the mental capacity to do it, I just can't seem to do it, do you know what I mean? I do a little research and find a college and program I'm interested in, anxiety mounting, and then when it gets down to it, I freeze up. I have an intense, real, not-even-exaggerating phobia of paperwork. This is not an excuse for anything, it's just a fact. 

And I know it's something I have to do in order to progress any farther, but... ?

Do you want to know why I don't have a Facebook account? The truth is, I did create one. I briefly personalized my account before searching for people I know - and then realized that if people searched for me, I'd have nothing listed below my name but my location. What a subtle way to announce to everyone that I'm an alumni of the University of Nothing. I promptly took down my account.

And though I read a lot - A LOT - and yes, it's good for my vocabulary, and yes, it's enriching and all that - but I still feel wholly inarticulate as much as I do embarrassed. I've tried not once, but twice to obtain a college degree, both times ending in spectacular failure due mostly to my laziness and inability to prioritize.

Sometimes I can't even TALK to people, you know? It frustrates me to not be able to debate, to compete. Would four years of higher education make a difference in that? Who the fuck knows. Maybe I'll learn how to fake it better.

In any case, I spent much of today researching - and my stomach feels like shit and I need a fucking cigarette. I'm not lying. I hate this process. Anyway, I made an account on GoArmyEd and poked around and found a few things. I've already determined that whatever program I end up in MUST BE offered entirely online. Can't and won't do the whole "traditional college experience" again.

So here are a few programs I found (in no order):

Thomas Edison State College, BA in Journalism or BA in Communication

These two degrees are Army Career Degrees, which will take into account and credit my time as a 46Q and apply that toward a degree, based on rank and related courses I've completed. It seems I'd be much better off if I were already an E6 and had completed both phases of BNCOC, but I can't worry about that now. There is a representative from Thomas Edison on McGuire, but I will have to call him TOMORROW to find out where the actual building is so I can go talk to him. 

American Military University, BA in Marketing or BA in Middle Eastern Studies

These two I will talk to the counselors at the Education Office about. AMU doesn't offer a BA (or BS) in Communications, but Marketing would be ok, too. And I'd love to go with Middle Eastern Studies, but realistically, where would that get me? Have to ask the counselor.

Burlington County College, AS in Liberal Arts/Science

Kind of a fall back, I guess, being that its a two year program. BCC is right up the road from Dix so it'd be convenient, although the program is offered entirely online, so it doesn't really matter that it's close. Something else to talk to the counselor about.

I have to will go talk to the folks in the Education Office on Dix this week on Thursday to make sure I'm doing everything the right way.

Until Thursday and until I formally begin this next chapter of my life, I continue to gather knowledge haphazardly and accidently. Today I read two more short stories by John Cheever from the aptly titled, The Stories of John Cheever, read about gonzo journalism and Hunter S. Thompson, watched the most recent episode of The Office online, and learned what a straw man argument is.

All in all, a busy day.

"and I journey through the desert of the mind

with no hope

I follow"

- Queens of the Stone Age "No One Knows" -

my war paint is sharpie ink and I'll show you how much my shit stinks

I've been meaning to post about this, but the end of last week was hectic - Tree and I went back to Mass because this was a drill weekend - and I just didn't have the time. Anyway. Read on for the hilarity awkwardness that was last Thursday:

So recently I decided to mobilize for another year with First Army (I know, who ever saw that coming??) and thus have to get the shit squared away that I'd been lazy about since I got to Dix, namely: MedPros. This is just the system that tracks your medical readiness in a number of categories: immunizations, dental, vision, hearing, periodic heath assessment or PHA (basically a routine physical), etc. Last month I was 'amber,' or in need of an update, in 5 categories.

I took care of the immunization update first: all I needed was a flu shot, ahem, flu mist. Kind of a gross sensation but not a big deal. Then I walked over to the dental clinic, they looked at my teeth, everything seemed fine. So two categories green. Next I went over to the Air Force side of Dix (also known as McGuire AFB) and had a PHA done, they made sure I had all my toes and whatever, that was fine too. Two weeks ago I went back to McGuire and had a vision exam (getting new glasses, but a weaker prescription - odd). All green except... the dreaded 'women's health' category. I HATE gynecologists.

I don't care if this makes me a bad person, but the last time I had a pap smear (about a month before I deployed), I told the gyno I'd been assaulted when I was younger so she'd hurry the hell up. Even though in reality I have never had any sort of trauma like that, I get over-emotional every time and end up crying and/or puking. Fun, right?

[Note: I don't mean to downplay sexual assault by any means, I just really, really fucking hate the exam process and would rather sell one of my arms than have one.]

So I'd called over to McGuire to see about making an appointment (unavoidable if I want to extend my mobilization) and they were booked until, like, 2011. And since I waited so long to start updating my MedPros, I now don't have that kind of time. I had no choice but to make an appointment with a civilian doctor around Dix and eat the cost. Whatever. Except my options were a Planned Parenthood about 30 min away, or some other random clinic nearly two hours away. Not really much of a choice, so Planned Parenthood it is.

Thursday, on my way there (I left during lunchtime and had to be back after the exam to finish up work), all I can think about is the movie Juno. You must have seen it, right? She's pregnant and decides to go have an abortion, except when she gets to the clinic, there's a classmate there protesting and holding a sign with a baby on it, and she tells Juno her baby has fingernails. Juno freaks out and ends up changing her mind.

Anywayyyy, I'm not pregnant and I wasn't going there to see an abortionist (is that a word?), but fuck, what if there were people protesting in the parking lot? Did I mention that, in a colossal oversight, I'd neglected to bring a set of civilian clothes, so here I was driving to this clinic in fucking uniform. Nice one. So what do I say if there are protesters: I just want a fucking pap, people! And not even really want one, but need one! Who the hell is going to believe that?

If there are protesters there I'm turning the fucking car around.

So I get there and thankfully there is no one outside to call me a murderer or whatever. So far so good? I open the door to the clinic and walk into a teeny closet-sized room. The receptionists are on the other side of - I kid you not - bulletproof glass. I have to show ID to prove I have an appointment, then I'm buzzed through a huge heavy door into the waiting room.

There are two other girls there, watching some courtroom tv show on a smallish tv in the corner of the waiting room. I filled out the forms they needed ("choose all the kinds of birth control you use: the pill, condoms, diaphragm, IUD, Depo-Provera, ... pulling out..."). Two more girls come in, looking sullen. No one speaks. Judge So-And-So lectures on.

I finally get to the gyno - she's a tall, blonde, severe woman who doesn't smile when I lamely tell her I hope her hands aren't cold. She doesn't comment on my folded uniform on the chair next to the table, doesn't say anything at all other than, "you need to relax your muscles." I'm just cattle, another random vagina. I'd wondered why my appointment was scheduled for 1:15 and not 1:00 or 1:30... but now it was clear - she was in the room with me for all of 3 min, so she probably does at least 4 exams an hour, with time in between to smoke a butt or take a nap or whatever. And for the $58 I paid? Not too bad for Planned Parenthood, I'd say.

She left the room so I could get changed again and I stepped in a glob of lube on the floor. In my socks. Which I didn't have a spare pair of. Thought about that lube in my boot for the rest of the day.

The moral of this story? Even without protesters carrying signs featuring aborted babies, going to Planned Parenthood is quite possibly the most uncomfortable experience on the planet.

"ask you what you think

because your thoughts and words are powerful"

- Kimya Dawson "Loose Lips" -

if you call, I will answer

it's not that bad - i'll stop before it gets any worse
or
tomorrow i'll quit
or
this is it, this is the last time
or
if it ever feels like this again, it's done
or
or as soon as this is over (just let me get through this), i'll stop
or
one last chance to feel better - i mean it this time

...i think i must know how addicts feel

make excuses, make excuses, make excuses

excuses

excuses

excuses

excuses

make excuses so you don't have to

deal. . . . . . . . . . . .
with. . . . . . . .
reality. . .

the mess you created.

and you know you have no one to blame but yourself.

i have always loved you - this is why you will kill me.

...but if i could, i would go back and take a huge eraser to the day i met you. i thought you had a nice smile. i never asked for this.

- Barenaked Ladies "Call and Answer" -

let me forget about today until tomorrow

Go away, world. I'm not ready to deal with you today. Go away and shut the door behind you, but gently; I don't want to feel the draft from your departure - I don't want to be reminded that you exist at all. I've cried enough over you lately. Go.

When I woke up this morning I knew I wasn't prepared for the sun, or your harsh criticism. I don't want to see anyone, can't bring myself to form words for you. My heart is feeling too faint, my fingers are tired, and I don't have the energy to talk anymore. I'm too old to play today. My knees and hands are swollen and sad; let me rest awhile.

I just can't take your judgement today - so go away. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel stronger, maybe my friend St. John will have me feeling bolder, maybe it won't seem so bleak, looking out over the destruction and not knowing where to even begin. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to see the horizon... and I wouldn't mind a little of your sunshine.

- Bob Dylan "Mr. Tamborine Man" -

where are you? and I'm so sorry. I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight

i have always been a strong believer in the idea that you cannot find love by searching for it. i've always imagined it kind of like getting a birthday gift from someone you were sure would forget, or like finding a winning scratch ticket on the ground... like it would just sort of fall into your lap and sit there looking up at you and say, "hi, it's me. it's love. i'm what you've been looking for." except you wouldn't really be WAITING, you'd be completely engrossed in something else, hopelessly busy and probably miserable. and then it would be a surprise.

and this love wouldn't be needy or demanding. and it wouldn't start arguments with you, so you wouldn't need to devote all of your time trying to fix your problems with it. love would be calm, and patient, and let you throw your fits sometimes, and just wait until you were done ranting to remind you how silly you sound. it would call you when it said it was going to, be where it said it was going to, and do what it said it was going to. it would tell you every day how important you are, how beautiful you are, how special you are. the thought of this love would give you goosebumps, set butterflies loose in your stomach, even after so long, even after 2 1/2 years. it would never get sick of you, and you most certainly would never get sick of it. you would wake up every morning feeling this love, feeling loved, and loving the feeling, and loving, just loving... and you'd be happy.

(sigh) those are just sub-beliefs. my core-belief is that love is not something you actively seek out. then WHY am i feeling so fucking needy? why so pathetic? my standards are lowering, i can feel it, and i hate it. i'm desperately LOOKING for someone (and it's turning into ANYone) to love me, who isn't Rico, who actually lets me speak when i want to.

i'm getting off topic. what i mean to say is that i'm disappointing myself by looking too hard and by lowering my standards.

they say the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem... but hopefully now that i've typed this out and cleared my head some, i can get myself back on track. because i don't deserve to be unhappy. someone special told me that and i believe him. and why him and not the others? i dunno. i guess it took a little love.

it all goes back to love.

...

riddle me this: why do i always refer to myself in the second person?

...

tonight i told him, "i hate you."

and meant it.

- Blink 182 "I Miss You" -

and it comes to be, that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel...

a barren expanse... lifeless. earth cracked and split like chapped lips, but without blood to convey the agony. nothingness. not even a breeze. not a soul around. my heart.

then... slowly, haltingly, storm clouds begin to form overhead, black smoke against the gray sky. billowing upward, the smoke of my cigarette. it reaches the clouds and multiplies, thick and smoldering. i'm terrified. but their fury brings the promise of change, so i hold my breath and wait. a light rain begins to fall, in a bowling alley. then harder, a downpour, the sound maddening. off in the distance, a figure offers me an umbrella. i think he's about 6'4"...?

and then through my cloudy heart, a single ray of light... a moment... a heart-stopping swirl of hormones and giggles and flesh and love and saliva... a moment that could last an eternity. time freezes in place, and all the individual elements come together in a rush - the hole in the wall, my chain falling from the dresser, clothes on the floor, the red bible, a broken shoe, tattoo-less shoulders, the sound of an invisible shower, reaching for towels in the dark... my lips part to form his name...

then a blinding flash of reality... and me without sunglasses. i've only got these rose-colored glasses that someone once gave me... parked at a gas station. in a red grand am.

...

he asked me... if i were an animal, what animal would i be? i told him a butterfly, but i didn't fully explain why. i'd be a butterfly because they're never sad. they're beautiful, and everyone loves them. and everyone knows that if you touch their wings, they will lose the ability to fly, and ultimately will die. PEOPLE UNDERSTAND BUTTERFLIES. they understand that they are delicate and take care to see that they aren't injured. and once a butterfly has done all it can in one particular place, it can grasp ahold of the wind and fly away to another beautiful place, and everyone understands. because that's what butterflies do. butterflies are only expected to be beautiful and to fly about as they please. and nobody hurts a butterfly.

but i am not a butterfly, and i'm not asking anyone to understand...

"...is just a freight train coming your way"

- Metallica "No Leaf Clover" -