Let's start with some quick details, and then get to the reason that I actually chose to sit down and write an entry.  Last night, I hung out with Jane, and saw a show at the Comedy Cellar.  I also got some Japanese food at Lan, which is one of my favorite places for Japanese Cuisine.  Try the snapper.  Since I've gotten to NYC, I've been going to bed late and waking up earlier.  It's ridiculous.  How bad, you ask?  LAst night, I went to bed at 0300 and woke up at 0530.  When this happens, I promptly go back to bed.  It's gotten so bad, that I'm not doing my pushups when I get out of bed for a bit.

Today. I took it really easy.  As long as I was up, I decided to see what was on TV.  First off, let me say that today's cartoon lineups suck.  Thank goodness for Youtube.  I've been watching subtitled Naruto episodes during the day.  Much better than DBZ as far as action sequences go.  After doing this for a while, I finally decided that I was going to do something that I could call "productive" in some way shape or form.  Today's task was "cleaning out under the bed", which was supposed to be a subsection of "steal books from home."  THere are a lot of books here that no one reads, and ones that I've left behind.  I've been browsing "library" that exists in my apartment for things to take to Italy and read later.  I looked under the bed, because I thought I had left some there.

Instead of finding what I sought, I found what some would call a time capsule.  Random stuff that I had owned, before and during West Point, that I had locked under there (my mattress is on top of some sort of dresser-type unit).  I found a bunch of posters, some which i purchased while I was visiting the NSA, and some that I purchased because they were just cool.  I also found the empty tube that they give you at graduation at West Point.  For those of you that don't know, at graduation, they give you an empty white tube, ensuring that you don't act like an ass once you have your diploma.  You get the real diploma after the graduation, before you leave.  I also found all of the person-to-person letters that I received while I was at the Academy, some graduation pictures, some papers that I wrote my senior year, my leadership notebook from when I was a squad leader, and my Regis High School year book.  I found my white belt, green belt (9th kyu-6th kyu), and brown belt (5th kyu-1st kyu), from when I trained.

I also found a couple of books.  One was on dogs, which saves me the trouble of getting another book.  Sooner or later, I will get a dog, I just need to check my choices.  Apparently, huskies shed a whole lo, so I want something that looks like them, but with less shedding.  Suggestions are welcome.  The only other book that I found that I had read was Glory Denied, by Tom Philpott.  It's the true story of Jim Thompson, who was the longest held POW in Vietnam.  It talks about the 9 years that he was held captive, and then how his life basically fell apart when he finally returned to his family after the war.

The two other books that I found were Perfecting Ourselves by Aaron Hoopes, Daniels' Running Formula by Jack Daniels, Hacking Exposed, and Computer Networking by James F. Kurose.  I'm not sure if I read the first two, but I definitely know that the running book seems funny, now that I see the author's name after having a bit more life experience. 

I've got more searching to do.

Black 6, out.

I'm typing this while flying on a plane over the Atlantic. This would normally not be an event worthy of a blog, but today is a different day.

Things were not looking good at the start. In leaving my apartment, I managed to leave my phone and set of house keys for the apartment in NYC. How wonderful. A buddy of mine, my original lifting buddy from Afghanistan, gave me a ride to the airport, and the traffic was actually cooperative. I didn't realize the entire phone fiasco until I was standing in front of the airport, ready to kick myself.

I walked in, waiting for check in to open up, only to have another soldier that was traveling tell me that the flight was overbooked, and they were looking for 12 volunteers to delay their flight until tomorrow. At first, I hated the thought that I would get bumped, on top of what was already happening, mainly because it delays me in a limbo that exists only when you are somewhere without the items that you require on a daily basis. It's hard to kill time without the golf game on my phone.

I decided to open my ears to what Delta was offering: a flight tomorrow, with accommodations for the night, and $1000 in Delta dollars which could be used or purchase of future tickets, and was completely transferable. Sounds like a good idea. Also, it was early in the day. If I took it, I should be able to take the shuttle to Venice, then the train to Vicenza, a cab to my apartment, and then reverse the trip. It may be 6 hours of travel, but what else would I be doing.

So, I volunteered. All that meant is that I would be marked and IF they needed volunteers, then I would be bumped and rewarded. Otherwise, I would just get on the plane and go. It was a win-win situation.

Boarding time comes, and I hear my name called, among a few others, and told to come to the gate. Well, looks like I'll fly tomorrow. If that were true, you wouldn't be reading this story. Instead, they called me up to tell me that they did not need volunteers. On top of that, because I volunteered, they upgraded me to Business class.

I have never flown anything other than coach in my life, so this was a learning experience. I’m not sure if it’s just me, but I get slightly nervous when I’m standing in a situation where I don’t normally belong. Is there certain etiquette for flying business class? I have heard the rumors of excess, good food, wine, and the other wonders of this “class” of flying. I don’t want to seem gluttonous. I REALLY had to hold back on taking pictures of myself and this wondrous occasion.

The thing that you will notice first about this area of the plane is the leg room. Sitting in my chair, I was able to extend my legs ALL THE WAY OUT, and still not touch the seat in front of me. I’m a slender guy, built like a Greek god, so the seat width felt no different. However, the seats had 10 buttons for adjustments, as well as two buttons, labeled “land” and “sleep”, which when pressed, adjusted all of the various area to place the seat in that mode. There was also an individual television, with at least 7 movie channels.

So the lady that was sitting across the aisle from me had heard me tell another soldier that I had been upgraded. So offers such orientation advice as, “You’ll get to pick out what you eat during the flight,” and “You’ll never be able to go back to coach after this.” I asked her if she has seen that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry gets upgraded while Elaine sits in coach. She hadn't, but the guy sitting next to me apologized for not being a supermodel.

Like I said earlier, I wanted to avoid gluttony in my new surroundings, but you don’t go to a 5-star restaurant and just have the water. You may ask, “Is the food in business class really that much better?” Yes. Yes it is. The main course was pan-roasted South American tenderloin of beef, with sautéed carrots and squash. The salad that came with it had some of the best tomatoes that I've ever tasted. For dessert I had vanilla ice cream with whipped cream, chopped nuts, and caramel sauce. I decided to have wine with my meal.  I tried the Stonehedge, which is a merlot.  It was good, but not quite to my tastes.  The flight attendant suggested that I try a port, which was sweeter, and a bit more to my liking.

After hearing about today's experience., you may wonder if I am now too spoiled to fly coach.  Unless I get upgraded for my trip back to Italy, no.  Also, I've had too many situations, both real and manufactured, that have taught me that luxuries are not something that I should EXPECT to have, but are there to be appreciated when they come. 

Black 6, out.

Last night, I needed to get out of the apartment.  I just had to go somewhere.  So I chose Venice.  Its only an hour train ride, and I didn't need to drive at all.  Plus, there's only one club, so that would considerably cut down my searching.

The decision to leave my place on a whim is not as easy as it seems, especially since I had to return to it 3 times before I finally got going.  Originally, I planned to leave my keys in the apartment and make sure that my car doors were locked and just go.  Then I realized that it was a 20 minute walk to the train station, and I wanted my iPod.  BAck to the third floor.  Back down the stairs.  Then, I realized that I forgot something else.  Back to the third floor.  Back down the stairs.  As soon as I locked the doors to the car, I realized that I would need the gate opener that was firmly locked inside.  Back to the third floor to get the keys.  Back down the stairs.

Eventually, I did make it out of the driveway and to the station.  Boy was I tired.  This is no way to hit a club, I thought, as I took a quick nap.  An hour later, and I'm in Venice.  Guess what.  The only club in Venice, the only thing I wanted, was closed.  And I was hungry.  Food and sleep was all I found that night.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, I decided to walk through Venice.  Apparently, so did half of the tourists there.  Hordes of them were all going in the same direction.  No real leader or tour guide either.  It was like a group of lemmings, except without the whole staged scene where they jump off of a cliff.  So, I did what any curious person would do.  I went with them.  I mean, there's not much else to do in Venice, and it was early.

After a bit of walking, I found out where the other half of the tourists were.  It was at the start of the Su e Zo per i Ponti, a noncompetitive run (or walk) that takes place through Venice.  It is my firm belief that I was the only person there who did not know what it was.  From here, there's not much more of a story.  I didn't run, because it was noncompetitive.  What's the point if I won't get anything when I win.  However, I did take some pictures and move with the walkers.
 

 

 

 
I'm sure that the helmets serve some functional purpose.  Can opener?

 
The Italian Army was apparently trying to assemble some sort of defense against Napoleon.  Apparently, they were on break during the last invasion.

 

 
These people were singing something.  Others stood around and watched. 

 
Interestingly, some of the others that were just standing around and watching and people that I would have suspected as being part of the show.  Maybe it was the way that they were dressed.

 
Then I happened past this shop which sold all sorts of stuff that was made from wood.  All kinds of things, except for the wooden motorcycle, because, God forbid they should sell anything cool. 

And here are some random pictures of boats in the water.
   
Look at them float.

Black 6, out.

Right now, I'm connecting using my phone.  It's not the fastest connection in the world, or the cheapest, but I can sit in my apartment and surf with no restrictions (except for speed) while wearing whatever I want.

I've been cooking in my kitchen again.  Amazingly, I can make complex things, but simple things continue to escape me.  Apparently rice takes time to master.  White Rice.  Uncle Ben's White Rice.  No joke, it took me 2-3 tries to get something that I liked.  Maybe I should go back to making mashed potatoes from scratch.

The other day, I got tired of cooking out of the cookbook, so I decided to just make something.  You remember when you were a kid, and you would mix things together that tasted good?  Remember how screwed up it came out?  Well, I figured that I have years of experience, so I should be able to do this without screwing up royally.  I figured that most of the things I cook are chicken breast with some type of sauce.  All I needed to do was create a sauce.  Hmmmmm.  What did I have.....  Lachoy Sweet and Sour Sauce (a bit on the tangy side, though), honey, orange juice.......  Screw measuring. 

The logic behind this is that I want to sweeten the sauce up, and give it something to cook off due to the heat.  Basically, the sauce will thicken.  That's what the OJ is for.  Just imagine that the taste will concentrate.  I don't know what was weirder: when I mixed it up, or when I took sips of it to get an idea of the taste.

Cook the chicken breasts in a pan with vegetable oil turning it over to brown on both sides.  Then pour in the sauce.  Turn over repeatedly until it's no longer pink on the inside.  Takes a total of 30 minutes to prepare.  It turned out pretty damn good.

On a related note, I'm also watching the series Chef!, which is a British comedy that I saw a while back and liked.  It's about a chef (duh) and the kitchen he runs.  Trust me, it's funny.  I just can't explain it to you in type.  You have to see it for yourself.  I recommend buying it.

Black 6, out.

I've been kicking it up with the cooking and cleaning in the apartment.  I have to tackle the cleaning element in sectors.  So today, I focused on both bathrooms and the kitchen.  I figure if anyone's going to come over, the bathrooms will be a definite stop on their tour.  Next, to clean the bedroom.......

I cleaned the kitchen because it's somewhat of a workspace for me.  I save a good amount of money by not eating fast food.  Plus, I think it's better for my body, not because I'm a health nut (and the box of snickers ice cream bars in the freezer will attest to that), but because my body shut down on me today.

I stopped by Burger King for lunch, and made a big order, since I missed breakfast.  There's a whole series of small stories that link into this.  I'll explain at the end of the post.  So I order a King sized Chicken Tendercrisp Sandwich meal, with a vanilla milk shake, since I gave up soft drinks for lent.  I at this around 1330 (1:30 PM), with the idea that I would eat, wash the dishes, clean the big bathroom, clean the small bathroom, and then clean the kitchen.

I could not move off of the couch until 1700 (5 PM).  I felt like those bears on nature shows that get a tranquilizer in the ass.  I just kind of growled and gurgled.  Occasionally, I would look in the direction of where I wanted to go, but the body just wasn't behind that.  So I took a nap.  Then I woke up, looked toward the kitchen, and took another nap.

Eventually, I figured that whatever was slowing me down could be counteracted with a good quantity of sugar, in the form of a hostess cupcake.  One sugar rush later, and THe bathrooms were clean.

Oh, so back to the reason why I missed breakfast.  Over the weekend, Europe went into Daylight Saving Time.  I set my watch, but not my alarm clock.  With no time to cook, I decided to grab some breakfast from Burger King, via the drive through.  When I get there, I try to order a bacon, egg, and cheese croisandwich. 

They have no eggs.  NO EGGS!!!  What kind of establishment is this.  I mean 90% of the breakfast items have egg.  They might as well close.  So the guy on the other end of the mike makes a suggestion:  They will substitute for the egg, and give me a sausage, bacon and cheese one.  Just hearing that gave me a heart attack.  I passes on the coronary and drove off.

Next entry: Endeavors in Cooking.

Black 6, out.

Well, I'm back in Italy.  I think I've spend almost a grand in the first 3 days.  The biggest purchases were my cell phone, a microwave, some kitchen stuff, and I'm sure that there are other things that I'm forgetting.  Oh, and I'm about to buy a PDA.  Yes, it is necessary, especially if I want to dump my laptop more.

When I first arrived back at the post, I decided to check into a hotel, rather than go home, since I couldn't get my car until the next day. 

You know what.  I was going to tell you about the trip and what I did when I got here, but I realize that it's very boring.  Instead, on to the fun stuff.

The first day that I got my car, I decided to drive home and take a test run on getting my driving skills back.  Holy crap are Italians evil.  Just aggressive drivers.  Now, in Afghanistan, I was only able to drive 18 Km/h on the base.  Here, the speed limit of 50 km/h, and no one actually obeys that.  It is CRAZY trying to go at that speed for any given time when I first started driving again.  Fortunately, I got my road rage back and can cut people off with the best of them.

Lastly, I would like to say hi to Kristen, and let you know that I got the book.  Thank you so much.

Oh, and Sara Bear, I got your letter.  It was here in Italy.

Black 6, out.

The Soldier lives on dreams and never tires of reciting them.  He yearns for sweetheart and home, yet returns to the front with joy and never narrates his time apart.

-Polemides, Tides of War 

Well, I have my date to return to Italy.  For some reason, it's a 9 hour flight, so I can only guess that we'll make a pass or to over Japan.  It will be good to get away from Manas, which reminds me of the movie Groundhog Day, except that Bill Murray was lucky enough to kill himself in various ways. 

I'm not saying that I'm happy that the deployment is coming to an end.  On the contrary, if tomorrow they requested volunteers to go to Iraq or some other hellhole, I would gladly raise my hand, and only request time to obtain some of the items that I had sent home, and send them ahead of me.  I have only two things that await me in Italy: my car and my apartment.  Aside from this, there is nothing else that the place affords me over a combat zone.  In fact, I make less money when I am home, and I have more bills and more bullshit that comes with being in garrison.  I'm not greedy, and I wouldn't do it soley for he money, but I just did the math on the shift of my net monetary assets, not including my investments, and adding in the debt of the Cadet Loan.  Once I pull my SDP money, I'll be up $23K from where I was a year ago, with no credit card debt.

...My friend employed me, at captain's wages paid from his own purse, as a sort of private envoy to the Lacedaemonians, or those individual Spartans - Xenares, Endius, Mindarus - with whom he conspired to wreck the peace.  I am no diplomat.  I missed the action.  I needed it.
   One comes to the mercenary's calling in this way, as a criminal to crime.  For war and crime are twin spawn of the same misbegotten litter.  Why else does the magistrate present is perennial offer to errant youth: servitude or the army.  Each inducts into the other, war and crime, and the more criminal the felony, the deeper the criminal must plunge to reclaim himself, disremembering kin and country, forgetting even crime, so that in the end, the only riddle the soldier kens is that most occult of all: why am I still living?
...................
   You have observed the mercenary's life, Jason.  Of a year's campaign there totals what, ten days of actual fighting?  Boil it down to moments when one stands within hazard's jaw and the tally condenses to minutes.  All a man need do is survive that and he's earned another season.  Indeed the mercenary holds more in common with the foe, to preserve their lives and livelihoods, than with his on officers, seeking glory.  What is glory to the soldier for hire?  He prefers survival.

-Polemides, Tides of War 

Black 6, out.

I had a mood killer a minute or two ago. Not much on that one. I still need some clarification on it, so we'll see where that goes.

Home, and by that, I mean my apartment in Italy, is getting closer and closer. My thoughts drift to the layer of dust on EVERYTHING that probably awaits me. Next time, I need to ake sure to cover things with a sheet.

Last night, we had an AC/DC cover band called ThundHerStruck play out here. Now, I'm not a huge fan of AC/DC. I guess that's what happens when West Point takes to playing "Back in Black" and "Thunderstruck" for the football team, right before we lose another season. Nonetheless, I'm definitely a rock fan, so I decided to check it out.

The band is pretty damn awesome. Granted, it's an all female band, too, so that's a plus. I remembered that they were actually supposed to come out to the FOB that I was at during the 4th of July last year, but do to some issues involving the Afghan Security Forces (ASF), some unauthorized sketches of the base layout, and Special Forces deciding to put the ASF in handcuffs, ThundHerStruck was cancelled.

After the show, I was able to meet the girls, and I told them about what had happened on our end, and they remembered getting cancelled for that gig. They were really cool, and I got a signed poster and a picture with them (I had to edit out two Air Force idiots):

I guess their normal drummer wasn't with them, hence the older guy that was there. He was an actually drummer for AC/DC, so that had to be cool for them. I didn't have my camera when they were on stage, so I don't have any pics of them rocking out, but they will be playing in Germany at the end of the month, so maybe I'll go see that.

Black 6, out.

Did anyone celebrate yesterday?  Probably not.  Hell, even I forgot about it.  I bet a lot of women "forgot" about it too.  If so, either make it up quick (there's an alternate date on the 20th), or we're forgetting V-day next year. 

I have finished The Truth, with jokes and moved on to my next book, Tides of War by Steven Pressfield.  He also wrote Tides of War, a very good book on the battle of Thermopylae  This book was a little slow in the first three pages, but is quickly turning out to be as interesting, if not MORE interesting than the other. 

Meanwhile, I've been getting a world tour in my attempt to end this deployment.  As you already know, I went to Kuwait in order to pick up a soldier.  Well, I FINALLY get the proper time, and am able to catch the bus and make the 2 hour bus ride over to the other part of the base (country?).  Although late in getting to the stop I was waiting at, the bus arrived 35 minutes early on the other end, and was not scheduled to take off for another hour.  A few phone calls and a car ride later, and I had my person in tow.  And the bus was there.

Everything's coming up Millhouse!

I return to the main base and walk in to find out if I can get a flight back to Afghanistan, in particular, the base that's between where I was (Kandahar) and the base where I was eventually going (Manas).  I didn't want to return to where I started because it would be harder to get to Manas from there (also, all the HHC 173rd staff was in Kandahar, and I know none of them, due to the act that I spent 11 months with CJSOTF, and they spend most of their day in PT clothing).  The gods were on my side, because there was one leaving in two hours.  Some expensive internet time and a quick walk later, and we were at roll call. 

OMG!!!!  We're going to move to the flight in 30 minutes.  This day is awesome!  Load bags on to a bus, take the bus to the flight line, put the bags on a pallet, sit in a room for 30 minutes, and get on a plane.  This is really sweet.  We take off, I pass out, all is right with the world.

Until....

The PFC wakes me up.  "Sir, they said that there's a navigation problem and the plane is going to Qatar."

Son of a... 

Qatar serves as an R&R spot for soldiers.  If you're lucky, during a tour, you will spend 4 days there, swim in a pool and drinking beer.  This is not the place that I want to tell my commander that I'm stranded at, So I'm trying to figure out how to pass of this news:

"Sir, I've got good news, bad news, and interesting news, and it only works if I give it to you in that order.  The good news is that I've got the soldier, and we were able to get a flight to Bagram 2 hours later.  The bad news is that the plane had navigation problems (this sounds sooo cheesy), and was diverted.  The interesting news is that it was diverted to Qatar."  Yeah, that wasn't going to fly.  Wait, Qatar is also called "Al Udied", the name of the base there.  That sounds a lot less like "I decided to get some beer on the way."

We land in Qatar, excuse me "Al Udied", and were told that they would try to see if they could get us another flight within the next hour.  I make my phone call, don't get my commander, but another captain, and update him to the news.  Two hours later, they tell us that they have a flight.  We walk outside and wait 5 minutes, right before going back inside and waiting 30 minutes.  We are then loaded onto a bus that drives us 100 meters (literally), only to turn around and head back, because they weren't ready.  The bus drives the 100 meters back and we sit for 10 minutes, and drive the 100 meters again, back to the plane.  Please, stop laughing.

We get on the plane, sit down, for 20 minutes, and are then told the plane won't be going to Bagram but to Manas.  In Kyrgyzstan.  You probably can't even pronounce that country.  On the good side, that's where I would need to end up anyway.  On the bad side, I didn't get to relax in Bagram for a few days.  Also, Kyrgyzstan is supposedly cold.

4 hours later, we land, I grab my crap, and step off of the plan to confirm that it's cold.  And raining.  We loaded up ANOTHER but (the amy likes busses) and drove to the main post.  Kyrgyzstan is depressing.  Maybe it was he overcast, or the lack of people on the streets, or the cold, or the rain, or the fact that the country looked like it needed a coat of paint. 

Now all I have to do is sit here for an undiscloseable number of days until the rest of the unit that I'm leaving here catches up.  From there, we fly to Italy, with my luck only stopping in Japan for a month or two.

At least internet access is only $2.50 an hour.  And my instructor is pretty understanding about my inability to have internet access for prolonged periods in order to finish off my paper.  However, I turned in next weeks homework early so that it's not like I'm being lazy.  Maybe I'll try and knock it out tomorrow.

Black , out.

I bet you're probably thinking that this is my first post form Italy. Well, you're completely wrong. Currently, I am in Kuwait. "Why?" you ask? Well, that's a funny story.

In my last post, I talked about getting to Kandahar. Let's just ay that it was a pain and rather than flying there, I had to convoy for 5 hours. Yay. Arriving at Kandahar, I'm greeted by my Company Commander with the words, "Have you heard what your new mission is?" Here comes the fun.

Apparently there was a soldier who was late for guard duty a couple of times, and decided to lie about his reason for being late. When this was discovered, he was given an Article 15, which he then challenged, which led to court martial. He lost miserably, and had to spend some time confined at Camp Arifjan, Kuwait. This is where I come in.

He has finished his time, and someone needs to pick him up. Apparently, someone drew the short straw for me, because it became my "new mission" before I even arrived back with the unit. After 2 days of trying to catch a flight, and somewhere near 12 hours of flying, I am in Kuwait. The last time I was here was in August and September, going to and from leave in the states. When I arrived on ground then, it was 100+ degrees at midnight, with the promise of 80-bagillion degrees when the sun came up. This time, it was freezing cold at night, but warm during the days.

The people here are retarded. First off, when I asked for the time, they gave me the wrong time, which has put me behind by an hour for the past day, delaying things horribly. HORRIBLY. Second, there are three groups here that handle different types of flights. NONE of them know what they are doing. I spent 3 hours of my first night here trying to find out when there was a flight to my next destination. No one could tell me. I had to call the other base, and find out when they were expecting a flight there, so I could tell the people here what to look for.

Remember, all that this place deals with is flights.

In the meantime, I have finished reading The Content of our Character. It is a very interesting book on the perception of race and racism, and I recommend it if you are black.

What?

Ok, white people can read it, too.

I am now halfway through Al Franken's The Truth (with jokes). I voted republican in the last election, and I have no real idea of where I stand as far as "right" and "left" is concerned (nor do I care), but I find Franken's book to insightful and hilarious. It's just as well written as his previous book Lies and the Lying Liars That Tell Them. He doesn't attack O'Riely as much, but that's still okay, because he presents a lot of facts, about a number of issues that I didn't bother to watch on the news, like Terry Schiavo.

I'm writing this on my computer in a text file. In a few minutes, I will be walking over to pay $5 an hour for internet access so I can post it. This is definitely going to make writing my paper for my Grad Course a little difficult. Or expensive. Or difficult AND expensive.

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Black 6, out.