Sometimes I stumble...

This evening I was enjoying a long, luxurious workout, basking in the soft glow of my Ipad that now conveniently houses multitudes of texts and books for my consumption. This is a much-loved release for me, and I’ve found I can go hours and hours without feeling fatigued as long as I’m reading something stimulating... No you pervs, not like that lol...

One book I’m lustfully re-reading at the moment, emphasizes that the state of “stress” is not a condition thrust upon us-- but an entity that we, ourselves create. The author suggests that some of us (ding ding ding ding ding), feel as though we’re not doing anything, if we’re not stressing or miserable. We actually feel guilty for feeling good or content-- as though because there’s suffering in the world, that we shouldn’t feel good. 

I believe I’ve fallen into this category for most of my life-- as a kid I worried about EVERYthing-- and that carried over into my adult life as well until recently. It was translated into more pronounced emotions like feelings of utter inadequacy, being undeserving of anything, not smart enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, you name it-- an honest-to-goodness inferiority complex that plagued me and delayed my even attempting to put in my flight packet for at least a couple years. When I came to Korea, in the aftermath of a failed relationship, I fell into a depression more consuming than anything I’d ever experienced. The Army, by nature, seems to thrive on negativity. There’s always something uncomfortable we’re expected to do-- and the down time associated with every event just results in griping and hyper-focusing on the negative/wasteful/insensitive nature of the world. Its easy to be sucked into that place-- even when you’re intending to “stay positive.”

I’m not going to delve much further into the philosophy (this time), but suffice it to say the author emphatically suggests that you can and should actively denature stress at its root, that deciding to feel good, actually brings us closer to God’s intentions, and God most certainly doesn’t want us to be miserable or prematurely graying. As a technique he suggests confronting the creeping feelings of anxiety or turbulent thoughts with beautiful and meaningful ones. Looking from a perspective that we’re surrounded by love and beauty-- abundant blessings of every kind. I’ve been attempting to do this the last couple weeks, and its made a helluva difference in so many aspects of my life. 

As I drove home tonight, I started brainstorming about this particular chapter-- about the events, snapshots--- profound moments that are helping me nip the stress and uncertainty the moment those feelings start surfacing. These are just some that came to me, some are recent, some are forever lasting, but they all emphasize to me, personally, what an absolutely amazing life I lead. I won't tag everyone, but I hope this entry may help some of my dear friends to shift their focus from the hard times we all face, to the true brilliance we are all blessed with. In the darkest times, God is ALWAYS there to carry us, we just have to let him.

~ Picking apples with my Grandad in his back yard, on a gorgeous fall day, and enjoying his perfect memory of the silk-worm-spider-thing that attacked me when we attempted to make apple-butter a few years ago.

~Driving to Estes Park with my beautiful mummy via Allens Park so we could see the Aspen trees in their first beatiful shades of gold. And making her laugh until she cried because the car in front of us was driving Korean. :)

~My gorgeous neice Mackenzie being lifted onto the backs of her teammates after scoring over ten points in her vollyball game.

~Getting silly drunk with my sisters at the Grizzley Rose, knowing full well Robert would take full care of us.

~The strange joy I felt today when I heard "Fourth of July", by Shooter Jennings being played in a Korean store. 

~My cat Fiona faithfully remembering that she's a part of me.

~Finding out my dear friend Chuck finally has the family he so genuinely deserves.

~Seeing my sister Resa waiting for me at the airport as I came up the stairs.

~Seeing her special-needs son Nathan, beaming as he talked about his involvment in the Young Marines.

~Shooting sporting clays with my folks, and my mom schooling both my dad and I at a particularly difficult station.

~The fact that a dear friend/fellow pilot friend always signs off his facebook chats with me with "click click".

~Being told I'm beautiful from a dear friend I know really believes I am. 

~Having a country bar that plays Cory Morrow and Wade Bowen in Korea.

~Skyping with my dear friend Jeffy for the first time-- and knowing at least one person on the planet understands how my crazy brain works.

~The serene picture in my head of a recently re-found friend sitting with his toddler on his front porch, and actually tangibly feeling his love for his son. 

~The Wyoming sunset my mom and I shared on the drive back down from Cheyenne.

~The sound of all the glorious general aviation traffic buzzing in and out of Jeffco Airport.

~Watching my BFF on skype with her kidlets, missing her SO much, but seeing how in sync she is with her babies, finally together again, and knowing I'll be seeing her (fairly) soon.

~How my friend Greggers somehow always knows what to say to make me stop crying (lol poor man!). 

~Korean kids: a---freeeeking---dorable!!!!!

~My sweet coworker selflessly asking if I'd like to take a particularly lengthy training flight from him to knock the rust off after I came home from leave.

~Flying, anything, anywhere, period.

~My friend Chad so dutifully helping every veteran student he can find at UW-- starting, and continuing a legacy of compassion for those who made so many sacrifices-- always downplaying his own. 

~The sweet lady at Kohls, who inquired about my POW bracelet from Vietnam, and told me the story of how the soldier she wore one for came home. :D

~My crewchiefs, all of them, for consistetly making me laugh, keeping me honest, and being my eyes and ears in the back of that majestic bird. 

~All the pilots and aviation enthusiasts who keep me stocked with lovely stories/pictures/articles about our shared passion.

Finally,

~Seeing Kenzie having grown over a foot, almost a different person than the last time I saw her, but seeing the love in her eyes as she threw her arms around me. Knowing an infinite love, from such an amazing kid-- just. WOW.

Alright, sappy yes... true... Absolutely. I am blessed, WE are blessed friends. Never forget it!!!!!

Old blogs... from flight school: I suppose these are still slightly relevant.

27 Aug 08 Wednesday

Things I've taken took for granted: A new hell-er-SERE grad thinking out loud...

Alright, back to my favorite waste of-er-I mean pasttime... blogging! Now many of you know that I recently finished SERE school, probably the first accomplishment of my short strange life that I'm truly proud of. In this school, of which I literally can't talk about anything I had LOTS of time to think (to say the least) hehe.. and man so many things came bubbling up to the surface. It sucked because I had neither pen nor paper and couldnt even stab myself and write these thoughts down in my blood because it was fuxing dark! hehehe.. Well so the last 48 hours I've spent just trying to reacclimate to normal life, and some of those deep and profound revelations came zooming back. Yes that's right, I said zooming... bite me!
If your'e really interested you can google sere and find out what its about, but lets just say that it truly opened my eyes to what human beings are capable of-- the two extremes: great evil and just the brilliance of unbreakable human spirit. The range of emotions I experienced was beyond anything I could possibly imagine.

And that, upon further investigation I must go ahead and accept that I was a fool for not reflecting on my charmed life thus far with total humility. Man I bitched and whined about bct and wocs.. When I shoudl have been focusing on excelling and giving something back to those who have come before me. I'm ashamed of my self-pity, and this is my public apology.

That being said, I want to reflect a little on the things that I took for granted at home. First off of course being the wonderful family that I left behind there. My mother, my best friend-- she's the most amazing woman I've ever met. I wish I had half of her grace and presence. She has given me so much of herself other than just life and God i miss our talks. She's truly the best friend a gal could have, and I'm so glad that my adult life has brought us so close together. If she ever reads this I know she'll cry just like I do when I think about how much I miss her. Since I left I feel like she gives me far too much credit, but it means so much when she says she's proud of me. Lord I hope I can someday come close to the way she paints me. I love that woman so much it hurts.

Next onto my dad. We haven't been very close for years, but when I was a kid my dad was the driving force in my life. We shot archery in Broomfield every monday night probably for 15 years until they closed down. You talk about a bond. He makes me so mad sometimes, the callous way he talks over my mom, or dismisses something she says. I know he doesnt mean to do it, but it does irk me. All that being said, I do love my dad. He's disconnected but he's also got a heart bigger than the Wyoming sky, which as yall know is damn big. And I did get my warpt sense of humor from him, which is definately helping me out in the Army hehe.

Grandad, now I could go on for days about him. I wills ay that I am immeasurably depressed whenever i think about how many hours I'm missing wiith him. Every moment with my Grandad is just brilliantly special to me-- and its been far too long since I've held his leathery hand, made some obscenely sweet dish, or talked bonsais or pacific theatre history with him. Lord I miss that man with every grain of my soul, and I have to say, I am devastated inside that this life has taken me so far away from him.

My niece Mackenzie. Holy cow. I actually cry whenever I think about how big she's getting, or that I don't know what kinds of things she likes anymore. how I'm not sure if I should keep buying her "my little ponies" becaseu for all I know she's grown out of them by now-- lord that little girl just stole my heart from the day I let her in. Now i cant help but feel like I'm missing out on so many of her defining moments. I know she loves me unconditionally-- but I hope she still knows me when I come home--I hope I still know her-- and I hope she knows that her aunt loves her, and that I left to be a part of something that helps keep her safe at night so she doesnt have to know that bad people exist. She cried so hard when I left-- man it tears me up. Whoa deep breath.

Jeezus, just thinking about this makes me realize how badly I need to write all these people and let them know how much they mean to me. Ok enough on specific people, this is gettin too emotional. I miss everyone and everything about home (except hippies), period.

I never realized how much the west was a part of me. Whenever I see anything w/ a cowboy on it (which believe it or not there's not much out here) I'm reminded of my previous life. I remember working horses out at Karen's or Mike's ranch, feeling so at one with those animals-- so at peace with the land, with the world. That was such a part of me-- life was so simple, it all depended on the animal beneath me and the amount of slack I put in the reigns. Sometimes I'll close my eyes and I can feel the gentle rhythm of hooves padding the soft ground of a round pen, the warm moist horseflesh in between my thighs, each muscle twitching in subtle recognition of my leg cues. Those familiar smells of manure, alfalfa, and the sweet tinge of grain. I remember being happy when my hands grew calloused enough to not break everytime a colt buggered on me and ripped the lead out of my hand. I remember the beautiful sounds-- hooves, wind blowign snow and dust through sage bushes, snorts, barn doors.. I used to gaze into my horses eyes for hours looking at those beautiful brown peaks. I swore I could see an entire mountain range in them, and he'd just look back at me with that quizicle horse-look. I'd blow into his nose and he'd flare his nostrils to take in his mom's smell, sometimes snorting horsey-snot all over me. We were so bonded it was like I knew what he'd do next, i knew what every look, every twitch meant. One day I came out and he was just beside himself, running from one end of the paddock to the other whinnying and snorting, stomping and bucking. I finally followed him and he took me to the far end where an antelope looked on curiously. Brodie was just so excited to show me this strange looking horned horse, he couldn't contain himself. Lord its like a different life. Hard to really put into words unless you'ev had that kind of a bond with an animal of that size. There is nothing like it. I miss him.

I guess this'll have to be chapter one of the things I took for granted, I need sleep. One last thought though-- for my buddies back home, or wherever for that matter. Those people that you love, please be aware of them, and everything they do for you-- and say something to them that lets them know how special they are to you. We are so so blessed.

Old blogs... from flight school: I suppose these are still slightly relevant.

27 Aug 08 Wednesday

Things I've taken took for granted: A new hell-er-SERE grad thinking out loud...

Alright, back to my favorite waste of-er-I mean pasttime... blogging! Now many of you know that I recently finished SERE school, probably the first accomplishment of my short strange life that I'm truly proud of. In this school, of which I literally can't talk about anything I had LOTS of time to think (to say the least) hehe.. and man so many things came bubbling up to the surface. It sucked because I had neither pen nor paper and couldnt even stab myself and write these thoughts down in my blood because it was fuxing dark! hehehe.. Well so the last 48 hours I've spent just trying to reacclimate to normal life, and some of those deep and profound revelations came zooming back. Yes that's right, I said zooming... bite me!
If your'e really interested you can google sere and find out what its about, but lets just say that it truly opened my eyes to what human beings are capable of-- the two extremes: great evil and just the brilliance of unbreakable human spirit. The range of emotions I experienced was beyond anything I could possibly imagine.

And that, upon further investigation I must go ahead and accept that I was a fool for not reflecting on my charmed life thus far with total humility. Man I bitched and whined about bct and wocs.. When I shoudl have been focusing on excelling and giving something back to those who have come before me. I'm ashamed of my self-pity, and this is my public apology.

That being said, I want to reflect a little on the things that I took for granted at home. First off of course being the wonderful family that I left behind there. My mother, my best friend-- she's the most amazing woman I've ever met. I wish I had half of her grace and presence. She has given me so much of herself other than just life and God i miss our talks. She's truly the best friend a gal could have, and I'm so glad that my adult life has brought us so close together. If she ever reads this I know she'll cry just like I do when I think about how much I miss her. Since I left I feel like she gives me far too much credit, but it means so much when she says she's proud of me. Lord I hope I can someday come close to the way she paints me. I love that woman so much it hurts.

Next onto my dad. We haven't been very close for years, but when I was a kid my dad was the driving force in my life. We shot archery in Broomfield every monday night probably for 15 years until they closed down. You talk about a bond. He makes me so mad sometimes, the callous way he talks over my mom, or dismisses something she says. I know he doesnt mean to do it, but it does irk me. All that being said, I do love my dad. He's disconnected but he's also got a heart bigger than the Wyoming sky, which as yall know is damn big. And I did get my warpt sense of humor from him, which is definately helping me out in the Army hehe.

Grandad, now I could go on for days about him. I wills ay that I am immeasurably depressed whenever i think about how many hours I'm missing wiith him. Every moment with my Grandad is just brilliantly special to me-- and its been far too long since I've held his leathery hand, made some obscenely sweet dish, or talked bonsais or pacific theatre history with him. Lord I miss that man with every grain of my soul, and I have to say, I am devastated inside that this life has taken me so far away from him.

My niece Mackenzie. Holy cow. I actually cry whenever I think about how big she's getting, or that I don't know what kinds of things she likes anymore. how I'm not sure if I should keep buying her "my little ponies" becaseu for all I know she's grown out of them by now-- lord that little girl just stole my heart from the day I let her in. Now i cant help but feel like I'm missing out on so many of her defining moments. I know she loves me unconditionally-- but I hope she still knows me when I come home--I hope I still know her-- and I hope she knows that her aunt loves her, and that I left to be a part of something that helps keep her safe at night so she doesnt have to know that bad people exist. She cried so hard when I left-- man it tears me up. Whoa deep breath.

Jeezus, just thinking about this makes me realize how badly I need to write all these people and let them know how much they mean to me. Ok enough on specific people, this is gettin too emotional. I miss everyone and everything about home (except hippies), period.

I never realized how much the west was a part of me. Whenever I see anything w/ a cowboy on it (which believe it or not there's not much out here) I'm reminded of my previous life. I remember working horses out at Karen's or Mike's ranch, feeling so at one with those animals-- so at peace with the land, with the world. That was such a part of me-- life was so simple, it all depended on the animal beneath me and the amount of slack I put in the reigns. Sometimes I'll close my eyes and I can feel the gentle rhythm of hooves padding the soft ground of a round pen, the warm moist horseflesh in between my thighs, each muscle twitching in subtle recognition of my leg cues. Those familiar smells of manure, alfalfa, and the sweet tinge of grain. I remember being happy when my hands grew calloused enough to not break everytime a colt buggered on me and ripped the lead out of my hand. I remember the beautiful sounds-- hooves, wind blowign snow and dust through sage bushes, snorts, barn doors.. I used to gaze into my horses eyes for hours looking at those beautiful brown peaks. I swore I could see an entire mountain range in them, and he'd just look back at me with that quizicle horse-look. I'd blow into his nose and he'd flare his nostrils to take in his mom's smell, sometimes snorting horsey-snot all over me. We were so bonded it was like I knew what he'd do next, i knew what every look, every twitch meant. One day I came out and he was just beside himself, running from one end of the paddock to the other whinnying and snorting, stomping and bucking. I finally followed him and he took me to the far end where an antelope looked on curiously. Brodie was just so excited to show me this strange looking horned horse, he couldn't contain himself. Lord its like a different life. Hard to really put into words unless you'ev had that kind of a bond with an animal of that size. There is nothing like it. I miss him.

I guess this'll have to be chapter one of the things I took for granted, I need sleep. One last thought though-- for my buddies back home, or wherever for that matter. Those people that you love, please be aware of them, and everything they do for you-- and say something to them that lets them know how special they are to you. We are so so blessed.

Unimportant, partially incoherent drivel from yours truly...

Just a Facebook note I wanted to transfer to my skeletonesque blog...

Yeah.. and I just spent like three full hours in Seoul traffic-- something that has convinced me that my childhood desire to never EVER come CLOSE to living in the city was smarter than I knew at the time...

Anyone who knows me knows I'm a bit music-crazy. When I get new music that speaks to me, I listen to it for days and days, just sinking into it-- letting it draw me into what I think the artist is trying to convey. I love many genres of music, but country is of course my first love. Well, I was given some brilliant new (to me) country tunes last week, and they got me feeling all squishy and alive again... So I rolled down the windows and sang along at the top of my lungs... with 8 million Koreans honking and cursing at me in Hangul-- and I'll be damned if that sound didn't take me somewhere that felt alot better than Songnam... So this is just a pretty rough ramble, if you're bored enough, get a beer and read on... :P

So-- this is what I thought about while I was performing badly in traffic:

The circles I ran in growing up were rough n tough-- not really allowing for a ton of touchy-feeley gooey stuff, but I loved my life: horses, cowboys, rodeos-- God, it was amazing.I knew I was lucky.

I had a ton of alone time when I was training for Karin-- often times I'd get to work after I ditched school (haha) and find a list of horses she wanted me to work-- so a ton of it was just me and them. Those were probably the best thinking times I've ever had.

I remember being in the round pen for HOURS talking to those ponies about men, heartbreaks, death, love, how mad I was at my parents lol, or what twirps those roughstock guys were. They always seemed to know what to do to cheer me up, though. so when I think "formative' years in regards to myself-- it was without a doubt that time in my life. Sometimes late at night, I'll lay down and remember the smell of horse-dust and sweat, the wind blowing through tumbleweeds (not just a clever line to a good song), and the sound of hooves hitting the soft dirt.Lord how I miss that.

One thing that I determined at that time from my own studies of the human condition, was that there was no way city folks would ever be able to understand or even contemplate the deeper meanings of life. LOL Sounds pretty silly, but I was pretty judgmental at the time-- so conclusions like that were easy to come by.. But when you think about it-- there are a ton of things that I think people tend to dismiss-- small things are considered incidental and unimportant-- insignificant and unnoticed by so many people in the world.

The joy and bond I felt, for instance, whenever the work I was doing with a young horse paid off-- when he gave in just a little to my asking him to open a gate, side-pass, change a lead, hell even changing his gait with my prompting on a lead line.

My horse Brodie, turning to look back at me as if to say I was crazy to be apprehensive the first time I hopped on him. Of course he wasn't going to try to kill me-- I'm his mom, and he trusted me. Moments like that just got to me-- and I was on the very fringe of that lifestyle. I grew up in town-- I had to kick and scream to immerse myself in the things I loved... So I knew that the whole contingent of *actual* country folks got this concept even more so than myself.

Rodeo was another refuge for my soul-- I loved being around it-- I loved the meeting of worlds where sports met country-- generally with people of similar backgrounds who understood all too well that pain was sometimes necessary for victory. The comradary that goes along with it was always so touching for a gal to be witness to. The first time JD asked me to flank bulls at an exhibition rodeo I about died of happiness-- knowing I was playing a small part in this game I loved so much. It didn't even bother me when some guy with the production staff came over and tried to kick me off teh chutes-- not knowing I was supposed to be up there-- and watching his eyes get big as the local legend Don McGurvin (RIP), one of the surliest old cowboys I'd ever met, marched up to him and told him exactly where he could stick it if he ever disrespected "this little lady" again...

It always amazed me how intelligent these folks were-- something they will NEVER get credit for in the rest of the world--where its a common joke to call someone who's not that bright a "rodeo clown". But those of us who know have never seen harder working, harder playing, and often more profoundly poetic people in our lives.

I wanted to be a part of that world forever. I still do. But my life has taken me places that are so far away that it feels like a different life. The first giant move was to the "dirty" south-- but I've also met people from all over the world. My views of city folks are ever-changing, and I try very hard not to paint them all with the same brush. But what do they think of us? What do they think when they see the slight difference in dress, or the way we carry ourselves? Or how we don't wrinkle our noses at every slight smell of manure and complain.

I've met a ton of city folks who really honestly think that country people suffer from some sort of life-ignorance that is to be pitied and scorned. They often hear even what state I'm from/went to school in-- and immediately ask ridiculous questions like do we have internet in Wyoming... or running water (I wish I was joking). Some of the more cunning ones pretend to find our lovely homes "quaint"-- but snap judgments of naivete and backwardness are pretty common. They think that we must have grown up sheltered and miserable if we didn't have giant cities in skate-boarding distance at our disposal-- often it doesn't occur to them that we might not have WANTED to be close to the city...

Since leaving the west, I've also met a lot of city people whom I dearly dearly love, and who are great friends. Some have even opened my eyes to new blessings in life--things I didn't notice before-- and I am thankful to know them.Some really envy us-- but I think those ones have a little country in their souls as well, and I always try to help them get a little taste of it if I can...

That life will always be a part of me, and I know only those who have had similar experiences can really understand.

I'm grateful that I did let myself leave those places I hold so dear, if only because now I know how truly special they are. 

Squishy thoughts

So here is an old blog I wrote the night before my birthday in 2006. I was reading through and the irony of the whole thing in retrospect made me grin. May not be interesting to anyone else, but its a memory that makes my heart warm to look back on.

5 Feb 06

A good day overall.. I got up at the CRACK of dawn for another LOOONG day at the airport. Yesterday the weather was fairly nice (though cold as hell) so for some reason general aviation was CRAWLING in Cheyenne... today was another story all-together. The winds were blowing so badly that a tri-pacer not-very-tied-down on the ramp was on two wheels, trying its best to blow over/take-off before we realized it. Result was yours truly racing out and hanging off the strut to keep it from doing an un-manned ground loop... you just thought only taildraggers did that! Joe and I had fun with that one... Anyway long story short we got NOTHING productive (like con law homework) done today but it was fun regardless. We did get to see some pretty dare-devil landings: picture a C-130 actually having a hard time not smacking the left wing on the runway-- you think its windy where YOU live... try CYS!!! That's how we roll!

Days like this make me realize me grateful to work here. We have such a great time despite all the bunk that goes on at that place. I'm incredibly fortunate to work with such awesome guys. My last job long-term job (the vet hospital) was with no less than thirteen women-- and I can definately account for the fact that men are a helluva lot more productive and easier to work with. We've got a couple dopes but in general it I really do love this FBO. When someone tells me that I get to be paid (however miniscule that compensation may be) for working around airplanes... how could I go wrong. What's so sad is how little interest the management takes in keeping great employees. Most of us work here for the opportunity-- not for the pay.

Anyhoo, so I stayed late to help out a bit with all the stuff being blown around, and eventually took a blustery drive down to Colorado to meet my family for a Superbowl party... Three hours into the Superbowl: Thankfully I didn't have to sit through an entire football game muahahaha! 

I arrived at my Grandad's with only about an hour left in the game and we just had a blast talking-- and him showing off his new furniture, floors and kitchen in his house. He's done sooo much remodeling since we lost Kreeks (my Grandmother RIP). It was a GREAT night overall.. and the best part came when he walked me out to my car.

Grandad confirmed we were doing the birthday thing next Friday and then he said,

"Jessie I don't know if you know this, but I've been meaning to tell you: I took my oath into the Marine Core on February 6, 1941. I had no idea that I'd ever have a grandaugther then, but it turned out to be a special day."

Ok.. This gets me so teared up again.
 

I've been so depressed lately, turning twenty-five and not having accomplished anything worth noting has really been weighing on me. This birthday I was almost hoping that my family would forget and I wouldnt have to do the obligatory embarassed smile as they sang to me-- since I almost feel its been another year of me wasting space. Somehow, Grandad made it better.

Everytime I see him I leave with a smile on my face. My whole life I've known that I shared my birthday with the great late Ronald Reagan and that's always been a bragging note for me, much to the chagrin of any liberal in the vicinity,  but tonight my birth day truly takes on some significant meaning.

Talk about an amazing gift. Knowing that makes me want to make him sooooo proud... as proud as he was to wear that uniform. Someday, I swear he'll get tears in his eyes from something other than tragedy. In the words of my mum, "God! I love that man!!!"

Have a wonderful night!!!! :)

The End, and the Beginning.

This actually began as a Christmas letter—but my pre-Christmas was pretty damn busy, so the stack of cards that still sits in a drawer in my room never quite made it… thus, its now a blog. Sad, absolutely. But if you can muster a chuckle at my disorganization, then you’re very welcome, and read on.

‘Rents and extended family—I’m going to try really hard to define any and all acronyms throughout the duration of these ramblings, but if I miss one, just smile and nod as I do whenever a new one pops up, and one day you too will be “Army-fied” (or fried, as it were). 

The End and the Beginning

So here we go… two and a half years of blood, sweat and gears (HA!  Groan!).

When I think back on that day, I still feel as though I'm watching a movie:

Three slightly crazy chics, two of them Army girls-- one of them wondering why the hell her best friend is in the Army-- running from one place to the next attempting to tie up all those lose ends that result from these sorts of things:

Coordinating show times/directions/dress code with family (Mom, Dad, Grandad) and Rucker friends-- running outside to bitch with my neighbor/ Hawk classmate/official best flight-school friend, as to where the hell the army expected us to put all our crap in the dress uniform (ie cell phones)—doing hair, redoing hair -- carpooling -- saving seats -- picture time -- picture time again -- my-face-hurts-from-taking-too-many-pictures-and-the-ceremony-hasn’t-even-started, programs--trying to remember the exact wording of the Soldier’s Creed -- pre-rehearsal, rehearsal, dress rehearsal (Yes! Gay gay gay~!)-- all while attempting not to sweat through our uniforms before the ceremony even began!  Blahhhh! A blur!
A sublimely insane blur of events leading to the culmination of so many dreams, so many sleepless nights, so many aches and pains and desperate stubborness, clinging to the principle that if you just try hard enough you can do it-- no matter what "it" is. We'd done it, and it was time for us to be launched into the world-- like a coming out party for a debutante-- it was finally here. It wasn't a dream anymore, it was a reality.

In the tradition that so many of my heroes had experienced themselves, the echoey halls of the Army Aviation museum were transformed from their vast testements of quiet historical stoicism, to a vital and vociferous birthplace. Surrounded by our peers, who had seen each one of us at our absolute worst, and absolute best, our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, grandads, grandmas, sons, daughters-- all gathered to bear witness the birth of the newest generation pilots Army pilots.

There I stood, before that stage, shoulder to shoulder with the men and women who had become like family to me, saluting with tears in my eyes as they played the national anthem. My chest swelled with pride every time a member of class 10-20 was called-- recalling in an emotional fog how just a month before this day had seemed so far away.


They're calling my row, we'd better line up-- Oh Lord, its almost my turn, oh my God, its happening, I'm about to get my wings. Oh my God, I'm going to trip over my own feet! There it is! That's me! That's my name! Hurry up Freeman, legs, move already! Oh my God, don't trip! They're smiling at me-- they're so proud of us, they're shaking my hand, no no- my hands are shaking! Get down there, find the "x" and stay put, don't lock your knees... 

Oh my God! Its time, where's my family-- where's Grandad? There they are, oh no, Mom's crying already-- no no, don't cry! You can't cry in uniform, not now-- not yet anyway... Oh no, Grandad's tearing up too, here it comes! Dad too, oh no! Oh my God, they're pinning my wings, wings... wings.... wings... Oh my God, I got my wings. 








Back in my seat-- it was so fast, it seemed so fast.

Then I watched my mom pin K...Oh my God, Mom's pinning K. My dear dear friend K was getting her wings.

All those times we'd giggled, broken down, shared a secret joke at someone's expense, found our own private beach, tried so hard to act like nothing got to us, sharing those moments of utter frustration at the daunting ignorance of men-- and our daunting appreciation of men. Our endless worries, and my daunting insecurities -- she was the only one I could tell-- the only one who'd understand-- and now my mom was pinning her wings. 


Her folks couldn't make the trip, and my family fell in love with her immediately-- a gal with the same dreams-- one of the few girls who will ever truly understand their daughter-- K is an amazing gal. It had taken us so long to get close, to open up to one another -- maybe the nature of this life -- but we had. I was SO proud of her. She did it. We did it.  God I was going to miss her.




I had tears in my eyes again as the realization hit that this meant that K, and all of my new family would soon be leaving this craziness.

No more attempts at meager sleepy smiles on the 0415 bus because at least we had coffee-- no more sharing daily questions, grilling one another on 5&9, or swapping "my IP is meaner than yours" stories, no more "have a great flight!" loaded down with gear on the flight-line, regaling one another with how "great" our landings were, no more awe-filled discovery at the brilliant capabilities of our lady the Black Hawk. No more laughing as your stick-buddy froze to death under the rotor wash while playing fire-guard-- knowing full well you were taking longer on your start-up then you really needed to because he'd done it to you damnit!... No more firsts... no more flight school-- it was done. We were done. We were done. We were done.

Flight school was over. We had become Army Aviators; Above the Best.

UH-60 Class 10-20

Deep Thoughts from a Shallow Mind (Aloft)

Alright, so here's a bit of background about muaaa:

I am 28 years old, originally from Colorado, went to college in Wyoming (go Pokes!) where I studied pre-law, majors in history and political science-- graduating with my BA in 2007. Started flying fixed wing as a civilian when I was 21, and made super-slow progress on my private license for several years. During college I worked at a tiny FBO (fixed based operator) in Cheyenne, Wyoming fueling airplanes and doing general airfield maintenance. In December of 2007, I was selected by the Army as a Warrant Officer Candidate, and shipped off 23 January 2008 to chilly Ft. Jackson, South Carolina for Basic Combat Training. After BCT, I was off to the lovely land of LA (Lower Alabama), and Ft. Rucker, home of the only Army Warrant Officer producing school in the nation.

I graduated WOCS 6 June, 2008 as a shiny new WO1. Shortly thereafter I completed SERE-C, BOLC-I-A, and HOST (dunker) training and (finally) began Primary or Initial Entry Rotary Wing training in February of 2009. I completed Primary somewhere around July, and initially selected the OH-58D as my advanced airframe. Lots and lots of soul-searching later, I decided to persue an airframe switch to the UH-60, and was sucessful!

I started the Hawk course back in November of 2010, and flew the 60 for the first time on Monday, January 4th. The second day we flew, I came down with a very nasty cold... which grounded me and subsequently got me pulled out of training. As I write this, I'm offiically on quarters for the 6th day. Trying to find the good in any situation is something I've been striving to do more often-- and therefore, I decided to take this enforced down-time as an opportunity to start this blog. Several of my friends have been bugging me since I got here to document the day-to-day events of this journey... so here it is!

Update 7 FEB 2011:

Well, its been a little over a year since this first post. I ended up being sick for about 6 weeks, and was dropped into a fabulous UH-60 class 10-20. On 13 May of 2010, I graduated with a wonderful class, and began my career as an Army Aviator.

I'm currently an RL1 D/N/NVG PI stationed on K-16 (Seoul Air Base) in Seoul, South Korea. For those non-mil peeps reading this-- that essentially means that I'm now a Black Hawk pilot-- and am charged with being as safe as I can be without being in charge of the aircraft ... but we'll get into that a bit more as the blog goes on...

I had every intention of making this blog about my journey through flight school-- but found myself continually unable to find either the time or the words to write. If you're cursed enough to know me personally, you'll know that I'm seldom at a loss for words-- so this is probably at least a tad humorous... but for some reason every time I sat down to write, Id get computer OCD-- or freak out and decide I needed to be doing something else... Hmm.. damned army! :P

 ALOT has happened since then, my life was turned upside-down in a few ways, a few different times-- and in retrospect, I don't know exactly how I made it through. I think its safe to say that the combination of amazing, supportive family and friends-- having my dream job, and a very understanding man upstairs somehow helped me to stay afloat.

The continuation, and indeed, consistency of this blog is my new years/birthday resolution and gift to myself. I've been a writer since a young age, and I feel like for the first time in my life-- I may have some interesting and more relevent opinions about a plethora of things. :)

This blog is not only for me, but for my family, friends, and aviation enthusiast friends who have been harassing ( :) ) me to start a blog detailing my experiences. Some of the entries will be out of order-- some will be quick, some way too long. Some are entries or letters I've already written-- about flight school or civilian flying but never polished enough to post. Not all will be about flying,  some will be about politics, the military, Korea, the US, none will be politically correct... some will just put you to sleep. However, I welcome and look forward to any challenges, opinions, criticisms, spelling corrections, or just "I effing hate your blog" comments. So please, use that critique button at the end if you see fit! :)

Its my blog, I can write what I want to.. Thanks for reading!