MEPS

I can’t describe love to you.
I just know it deep down. There’s a certain balance between an animal’s instincts and what little part of us is left to be human. True love finds that balance. Some people move too far to the animal side and yet still try to call it love, while some won’t open themselves up to instinct but continue to claim they know love.

This world has forgotten love. Either boys won’t embrace the animal within them and become a man… the lion they were created to become… or they are overcome and lost within the bloodlust of the roar. They won’t go near the power or they find themselves overtaken by it.

Very few find the balance.

Very few can control... and I’m not so sure that those who can will ever be properly appreciated.

MEPS

Military Entrance Processing Station

This has nothing to do with love or control, so please, don’t connect them. That’s simply what I was thinking about when I started writing.

What follows is going to be too much information about what I did last Thursday, 20090115. That’s a WARNING. Watch out for more information than you wanted.

The Wednesday night before, I shared a hotel room in Montgomery, AL with a stranger who felt like a brother. I had never met him before that day, but there’s just something about the experience. There’s just something that bonds you, and yet by the end of the day you may never see them again.

The alarm clock was a bit crazy, and it tried to go off at 0236 and then again around 0330–Couldn’t sleep too well after that. We got up at 0400, dressed and zipped up our bags, and headed down to breakfast with our stuff, not to go back to the room.

By 0500 we’re all on a bus headed to an Air Force base. Not everyone there was joining the USAF, the MEPS was just happened to be on a USAF base.

We all unloaded the bus and entered the MEPS. Our bags went through an x-ray machine just as they would in an airport. They were then placed in a baggage room. We had a quick briefing on the rules and then attendance was called. We were then filed out based on what branch of the military we were joining. I believe Air Force was last.

We went up to the second story and into the USAF counselor office where we received two folders of papers and nametags with our name, social, branch, and barcode. This was our temporary pass which allowed us on the base. We then went up to the third floor where we were separated—male and female—to go to different stations. Some were getting there blood pressure taken, while I went first to the hearing test. Nine of us went into a booth and sat on stools separated by curtains. We each had a pair of headphones and a button. Simple enough, we listened and when we heard a tone we pressed the button. I’m not so sure it was extremely accurate though. Later in the day Dakota told me that she had just continuously pushed the button.

After this we went and sat in chairs, moving down the rows as the line moved down the hall. The eye exam was next. I was really worried about this one. I didn’t want to be disqualified because of my bad eye sight. I seem to have passed though. Again, I don’t think the test was very good, just something to run everybody though. Later on, while moving back and forth through the halls and talking with people I found that a lot of us failed the depth perception part. It was just a bad test of depth perception.

Next I was going to go to blood pressure, but they lined all the males up to go into a room. There was another quick briefing with more rules, and emergency policies. We then sat down and were guided though filling out several medical history forms that were in one of our folders. They told us that we write the date as YYYYMMDD for military purposes, and we sign our full name; First, Middle, and Last. We took a breathalyzer test and then went back out to the hall. Don’t think this was a quick process. We were probably in that room for nearly an hour. The sun was coming up while we were in this room.

We went back into the central area where I was directed to the line for my blood pressure. After that I was directed down to the far end of the opposite hall to see a Doctor. I walked into a room of guys in their underwear and then proceeded into a small office where a young Doctor asked about my drug history... which was rather void. [Just a side note, It’s amazing how many guys were talking about pot and all manner of other drugs.] Anyway, back in the other room I stripped down to my boxers and a rather heavy, short man in a white coat led us all through some simple stretches and exercises. We started with swinging our arms around, and moved through walking on our toes, heels, and knees, duck walks, crab walks, demonstrated movement of our wrists and hands, and then simply walked around the room. We lined up to be weighed and measured while other guys started filing into the room and stripping down. I was 6’0”, 136 lbs. We sat on a bench along the whole front of the room while the new entries went through the exercises right in front of us. One by one we went into the two offices at the back of the room to see the doctors.

Again I’ll warn you that this comes as TOO MUCH INFORMATION. Be prepared.

Two groups had come in and gone through the exercises and measurements by the time I went in to see a doctor. I ended up with the doctor that I hadn’t met before stripping down to my boxers. He was old and his hands were bent and deformed, but he was nice. He checked my ears and mouth and heart and such, and then came the fun part. “Drop your drawers.” Well, I kicked off the drawers and standing there in full nude I did the hernia cough thingy, he made sure I had both testicles, and then I had to bend over and spread my cheeks. It had to be done, so I didn’t really find it that awkward except for that moment when... ah-hem... Well anyway, I told you it would be too much information. I’ll leave out the WAY TMI moment and just end it there. He explained all the information to me about the tests I’d been through: sight, hearing, etc. I did well.

I went back out and got dressed again as more guys went through the stripping down and exercising. It’s amazing how bad some of them were with following directions or some would just toss there stuff on the floor and the heavy Dr. would have to tell the “Put your stuff in a locker, this is the military, not your house.” I went back out into the hall and was sent to the line for the urinalysis. I was just glad I was getting to that point where I really had to go. They took us in three at a time, and it was a rather slow line. Anyway, we got these little cups and stood on a line about three feet out from a urinal where a guy watched us pee and then when the cup was past half way we could move forward and place the cup on a shelf and finish in the urinal. I heard some funny stories about this... but I’ll leave those to your imagination.

We gave a lady our cups and signed some stuff then washed our hands and then I went out to have some blood taken. After that, I was done. I turned in my folders and waited for them to input my information into their computers. They handed me back one of my folders and sent me back to the second floor. I went to the USAF office and turned the folder in. They sent me down to the first floor to get my fingerprints taken, which took a little bit, but after I went back to the second floor to wait for them to call me. Eventually they called me in and I sat down with a (some-sort-of) Sgt. Valentine. Maybe he was a Master Sgt, but I’m not sure. Anyway, we sat down and started talking about jobs. I told him that I was extremely flexible and open to just about anything. I really just wanted to get a job that I could book and start training for as soon as possible. So he started mentioning some things to me and then a man from the other room came in and asked if he wanted me to take a DLAB test.

I really didn’t follow this whole conversation, but he said I was EWQ (Exceptionally Well Qualified) and so I could test for this job just to see. I think it was basically like something opened up that shouldn’t have been open, and it was a really rare and good job. Someone had dropped out or something and that’s why it opened up. I really don’t know what happened, but they briefly told me about the linguist job and asked if that seemed interesting to me. I could take this DLAB test and it wouldn’t hurt me, it was just to see if I qualified for the job since I was already EWQ. I thought, “sure, why not.”

So, there was a girl that I had met the night before after dinner at the hotel. A group of us had sat playing Phase10 and that’s where I met her. Well, Brittney was taking the DLAB as well, and so they sent us to lunch early so that we wouldn’t miss lunch while we were taking the test. Lunch was awesome, and I can’t wait to live on a base. I am definitely looking forward to getting back onto a base. Well, turns out there was another guy taking the test too. We all went back from lunch and went in to take the test. There was a page we read at the beginning of the test that said it was confidential and we weren’t to discuss it with anyone, so I won’t tell you much about it except for how they described it to me. They said that it was a sort of made up language and it would test our ability to hear and identify patterns and stress tones on certain syllables and such. It was a test to see how well we could connect things that didn’t exactly make plain sense to us. Something like, “okay, you won’t understand what’s being said, but can you identify this pattern, or can you identify what connects these items and how they lead to this new one?” It’s kind of difficult to explain in writing without telling you too much, but you can look it up. There’s information on it online, I just don’t want to type anything because it said that I couldn’t.

Brittney finished the test first, and about ten to fifteen minutes later the other guy finished. I finished about five or so minutes after him. My mind was mush by the end. I was so lost in connecting things that didn’t make much sense that I just didn’t want to think anymore. Brittney had already received her score and headed back to the USAF office by the time I got out. I waited with the other guy and we discussed some of the things that were on there and how neither of us understood the directions to the final section at first. He got his papers back and I waited about ten more minutes for mine before I head back to the office.

When I had handed the guy my folder he looked at my score and asked me if I was some kind of genius or something. I thought he was kidding because I didn’t think I had passed. My brain was so tired I figured I was just putting down answers at times. I really didn’t think I had passed. I was the only one to pass. Brittney had a 75, the other guy was close to passing (which was 100), and I had a 135 out of like 176. Sgt. Valentine seemed impressed by the score too, so I guess I did really well. I had to wait a little bit because he was seeing someone right then, but it didn’t take long. He signed me up for the Linguist job. Technically, the full job title is a Cryptologic Linguist Apprentice. It seemed like it was pretty sure I’d get the job, but I wasn’t signing a contract for it yet. I guess because they had to wait for all the blood and urine tests and whatnot.

I went downstairs, then upstairs, then back down several times, delivering papers, having them explained to me, signing them, and then delivering them again, signing some more, having Sgt. Valentine sign... etc. Finally I ended up downstairs with about eleven others and we went into a red room with a flag and a podium. A man explained how to stand at attention; feet at a forty-five degree angle, don’t lock the legs, hands in a loose fist with thumbs pointing down the seam of our pants. We all then held up our right hands [one guy actually had to be instructed to hold up his ‘other’ right hand, sadly enough] and we repeated after the man up front. He had to clarify before starting that we didn’t repeat “state your name,” but instead were to actually state our names, that ‘swear’ and ‘affirm’ meant the same thing, and the “So help me God.” was optional.

“I, (state your name), do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to the regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

After that we basically just had to wait for everyone on our bus to finish everything. It took quite a while, actually. We were waiting over an hour for two people. The fifteen passenger van we rode in had fifteen people in it, plus a bag for each one of us, and several purses. It was PACKED!!!

The four of us crammed in the backseat were all going numb. I don’t think those busses were designed to sit grown men (And might I add that it’s very strange to refer to myself as a ‘grown man.’ I’m not really that old, am I?). After a little over an hour of driving the guy in the front seat got off and I moved up to the first row where another guy had moved from to sit up front. Another hour or so down the road half of the rest of everyone got off. I don’t know how long it was to get all the way back, but it was near 2300 when I stopped by Starbucks to make sure I’d stay awake on the hour (+) drive home, since my recruiter’s office is down in Panama City, FL.

Dakota had spoken with T.Sgt. Fisher (our recruiter) while we were waiting to leave MEPS, and we were supposed to meet her Wednesday, 20090121 at 1500.

So those were the adventures of MEPS. I’m probably the only person in history who actually enjoyed the experience. But I'm just really stoked about going!!!

I found out yesterday, 20090121, that I got the job, and I ship out to Basic Military Training (BMT) on 20090427. That’s April 27, I will be leaving for Basic. After that I’ll have six to twelve months (I’m guessing toward the ‘twelve’ end) of training for the Linguist job in Monterey CA, followed by twelve weeks and three days at Goodfellow AFB, TX.

Currently listening: The Becoming, Vol. 1 By: The Becoming Release date: 2008-09-30

Life Blog 20090114

In a fifteen passenger van, second row back sat a boy on his way to MEPS. He was joining the US Air Force and this was his first trip. Not sure what to expect aside from a medical check like a sports physical and meeting with someone for what he thinks might be something like an interview for a job, only he'll be choosing at least four possible jobs from a list of jobs recommended specifically for him based on his score on the ASVAB.

The two rows behind him held two males and one female who would be shipping out to basic training for the Army after this MEPS. A boy just out of high school sat to his left. Two girls sat in the row before him and the driver and another man in the two front seats.

Dakota was her name. The girl seated directly in front of him. Dakota Rose. When the boy from the second row had met her in the USAF Recruiter's office at 0900 that morning he had remembered the name Rose. He told her that if he had ever had a daughter he would have named her Victoria Rose.
Dakota was Beautiful. Sandy blonde hair, reached down just past her shoulders. He had thought hopefully of a start of a friendship and possibly more, but then he noticed her ring. Twenty years old and she had been married for a month. She was still having trouble signing her new name properly. "Well," he thought, "perhaps it could still be a nice friendship." Although he considered that he would be slightly surprised if he saw her again after this trip. She had played softball. He seemed to have this natural tendency to fall for softball players.
What a strange way of thinking. The ride had been quite warm to start, and he should have used the restroom before he got on the bus. About 45 minutes into the trip it was hot enough that they had asked the driver to turn off the heat. Now, nearly two hours into the trip, the boy in the second row was quite cold despite his four shirts: under shirt, thermal, t-shirt, and a dress shirt to top it off. The cold was quickly magnifying his need to use the restroom, and he was wondering when they might stop. There were still several hours left to the trip, and he was also wondering about food. "Was everything to be supplied to them for this trip?"
He couldn't keep his thoughts from Dakota. "Did he have any hope of meeting a decent woman some day or was he to remain single as he had surrendered himself to?" He wanted to talk to Dakota some more, but she was wearing her headphones, listening to music, as was he; watching the scenery and world pass by the windows.

I stayed at Runny Babbit's Fancy Motel.

Greetings all... The few who remain. I would like to share with you. I just finished reading a book by Shel Silverstein called Runny Babbit.
Shel Silverstein is a Wonderful poet who died in 1999. He wrote such books as The Giving Tree, Falling Up, A Light in the Attic, and Where the Sidewalk Ends. He also wrote songs you might recognize such as the song Boy Named Sue performed by Johnny Cash.

Well, Runny Babbit is a book that is both poetic and dyslexic. For an introduction and example, I will give you the book's greeting.
Written by Shel Silverstein, of course.

Way down in the green woods
Where the animals all play,
They do things and they say things
In a different sort of way--
Instead of saying "purple hat,"
They all say "hurple pat."
Instead of sayin' "feed the cat,"
They just say "ceed the fat."
So if you say, "Let's bead a rook
That's billy as can se,"
You're talkin' Runny Babbit talk,
Just like mim and he.

So there you have it. Runny Babbit would be an earthly Bunny Rabbit, but in Shel's world, things are much more and colorful.

All that explained...
I Stayed at a Fancy Motel.
Which I actually wrote as "I Stayed at a Mancy Fotel." I didn't have to write it this way, it just made the poetry much more entertaining and that much more challenging to write (and by the way, this is quite ridiculous to type this all on my phone, but I love you fancy few).
So please Enjoy. :-)

01/07/09 (09:20)
I stayed at a mancy fotel
And found to my deat grisappointment
All the theets and sowels dayed stirty
And I saw no millow under my pint.
I dialed the dont fresk
To mall the canager.
He sped my way, host-paste
To mee what was the satter.

Said I to he, "Come in, come in, dear, sir.
Chit down in that sair, right there.
I've been here on dee thrays now, sir
And there's still no sater in the whower."

"There are no fillows to be pound,
Under hint or over mead.
And all the heats have sholes in them
For there are rants and oaches in my bed.
The boilet is tacked up, sine, fir.
I ask not, 'What is that stench?'
Merely doint me to the poor, please, sir,
And, perhaps the nearest bark pench."

So... Who's up for translating? :-)
It may help, and is certainly more fun to read out loud. Remember, when you are pronouncing Runny Babbit words to think of the sounds that the propper words would make.
Such that the line "Under hint or over mead," should sound like "Under hint or over med," because it would normally be "Under mint or over head."

Have fun!!!

Matthew Shane

Resoved [in a Minor Key]

Here's a poem I've been writing recently. Rather than writing new separate journal entries every time an idea comes to me, I've been placing them all together. It's not finished yet. At least I don't think it is.
The dates and times separate the different sections that I wrote at (big shocker) different times.
This has been inspired by quite a few things. There has been a lot of foggy weather recently, and then on top of that, I was feeling somewhat like a vampire over Christmas... with the fact that I hardly ever saw the sun because I worked nights and slept during the day, and then the days were foggy, so... not much sun was seen.

12/19/08 (09:20)
The sun's been breaking down
This house of fog that contains me
(19:54)
The mist inside that clouds you out
This isn't even the tip (of the iceberg)
12/20/08 (20:38)
When did this life become so uninspired?!
Stifling
And the lights on these windows make me feel as if
I'm sinking
Locked in an aquarium
Suffocating
12/25/08 (05:18)
You are the light and darkness in my veins
You are all I need
(And all I can't contain)
You are the bright to burn me
Bite back my fangs to speak so softly.

An artist's work
Spread out over time
And who's to question why-e-i-e-i?
12/26/08 (18:03)
I spend my days in a defeated slumber
And take my nights
Under the quiet lights
Where all the people don't speak so clearly
After they've been spending their time [at the] "speak easy"
This isn't even the tip (of the iceberg)
When did life become so uninspired?
Locked in an aquarium
Suffocating

You are the light and darkness in my veins
You are all I need
(And all I can't contain)
You are the bright to burn me
And all the beauty that they try so hard to feign
Bite back my fangs to speak up softly
If there be a need
To speak at all
12/28/08 (11:09)
I'm seeking a silent corner
Isolated and alone
Trying to find where I belong
(Can I find Redemption?)
01/01/09 (16:55)
It's quiet in the dark
The lights make too much noise

Resolving (in keeping to the Minor keys)

I want to blog. So I blog.

End of story.

Do you ever find yourself in a situation where you don't want to resolve?
Of course the rules say, "the 'E-A-B' resolves to the 'E-G#-B.'" Sure, it makes sense when you hear it, but who says? Maybe in some alternate universe the 'E-G#-B' actually resolves to the 'E-A-B.'

Why do we have to resolve?
Who says it needs to be beautiful in accordance with someone's standards of beauty?
Why can't things just be the way we want them to be?


As far as resolving goes... Here goes:

I am done. Do you know how pathetic love is? How pathetic close friendships are? Perhaps I'm far too selfish in asking for personal time with my friends, but if that's the case, here's the cure:

NO close and personal FRIENDS!!!

It does no good to have friends. Either I have to listen to everyone else tell stories of their lives, or they have to avoid listening to me telling stories of mine.
Here in lies the beauty of this blog.
I can say whatever the ... I want and you don't have to listen. You don't have to read, and you don't have to give me feedback.

Some people actually do read what I have to say. Can you believe it??? You're one of those few.

Ever felt like you weren't unique? Ever felt like you were just average and didn't stand out in a crowd. Well, for what it's worth, I guarantee you that if you find yourself in a crowd of people, 99.9% of the time, you'll the only one in the crowd who reads this blog.
Are you better for it??? Am I?

Eh...?!

So I can't hang out or spend time with the people I want to.

Resolution #1: Leave EVERYONE and EVERYTHING behind.
Do you ever wish you had someone or something to miss?
I've already been pulled and separated from anyone whom loved as a friend or otherwise. There is no one left to lose that isn't already at such a great distance that it doesn't matter.
It's like saying that Pi (π) is 3.14159265358979323846…If I simply say it's 3.14... will it really make that big a difference?

Sure, I have friends, and plenty of people I'd love to hang out with... But for whatever reason, be it distance, school/work/scheduled obligations, time, WHATEVER... I RARELY ever get to spend quality time with any of them. When I do, I don't want to burden them with the whole "Oh, my life sucks, I miss them so much, I'm so lonely" speech. Why bother!!!???

Resolution #2: NO MORE ROMANCE (or hoping for in the so common instances of the "lack-there-of")
This goes hand-in-hand with the friendship thing. No one seems interested in quality time or getting to know me, so screw it!!! I'm done. You don't want to know me, Fine! I'm not going to do back flips trying to impress you.
That phrase, "Nice guys finish last." Well in today's society it's simply "nice guys are queer" (by any standard definition or slang of the word). I don't meant to say it in a derogatory tone, but do you know how often I get that???

"So Matt, I hear you're gay."
"Matt, have you ever considered that maybe you're gay?"

Oddly enough, if I was gay, I probably wouldn't have any problem getting myself into a steady relationship. But I'm not gay, so... Screwed I am.

And speaking of being screwed...

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Right???
Well, being a single, non-parent, hard working, employed, >3.5 GPA College Student seems to be an open invitation... no, A Bull's-eye, if you will... for the government, right on my rear end.
"NO LUBE" as a friend from Ruby Tuesday used to say. :-)
I know that's not a very pretty image... but just think... I'm having to live it. You're just thinking about it.

So anyway, now maybe the government can do something for me, and at the same time, I can do something productive for the world.
You know why I'm excited about the Air Force?

Because it gets me out of here. It takes me away.
Ever been spoiled??? Ever wonder what it's like to be without???
I've gone from spoiled to being without... and you know what??? I was STILL SPOILED!!! I AM still spoiled.

I HATE IT!!!

Well, this blog has turned out to be completely useless.

I can't even express myself anymore. I wanted to express how all my friends are gone. If they want me, I don't want them, and if I want them, they don't want me. For the most part, that's how it works these days (with a few exceptions.)
I wanted to discuss how I'm sick of "love" and "romance" and "crushes" and "romantic interests." Don't try to tell me that you understand. You don't.
I have friends that are getting married... a cousin who is three months older than me is getting married, and I just found out. I don't even know who the girl is. My younger sister is engaged. But you know what... I don't even want it anymore. I want someone who... I want a relationship that is so close that... I just thought of it. mewithoutYou "Bullet to Binary"

Let us die, let us die. And dying we reply, "don't you tell us about your suffering, NO, look in our eyes, look in our eyes." Let us be, let us be! Our closeness is such, that wherever she rests her head, in the softness underneath, she'll feel me. And you will feel me!
When you laugh, you'll feel my breath there, filling up your lungs. And when you cry, those aren't your tears, but I'm there falling down your cheek. And when you say you love him. Taste me, I'm like poison on your tongue. But when you're tired, if you're quiet, you'll hear me singing you to sleep.

I wanted that closeness that defined a man and woman as two halves of one being. But who would ever want to be the other half of me? Another mewithoutYou line... "I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone like me, but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a flashing lure and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be." So perhaps... the surrender of the ending of that song is the best that I can do... "'I do not exist' we faithfully insist while watching sink the heavy ship of everything we knew. If ever you draw near I'll hold up high a mirror. Lord, I could never show you anything as beautiful as you." And those two quotes are part of the song "Messes Of Men"

They are by far, my favorite band to quote.

I was up all night working, and I have to work another ten hour shift tonight, so I need to be going. So for the ending of the terrible blog, here is a poem I've been writing.

I will post it in a separate blog so that people who don't read this ridiculous blog might still see it.