The Hulk Smash of Knowledge

The best way to explain your job in a warzone is to embellish as much as possible.

Navy Customs? Well, I mean, it’s pretty much exactly completely the same as SWAT. At least for sure the part about kicking doors down. I definitely do that on a regular basis--with people’s dreams. Seriously, guys I’m not going to say it again. There are no grenades allowed in your carry-on. (Sadly, this is not made up. Mostly. Ok fine, I made up the grenade part.)

Obviously, this sounds like the most fun ever. So I joined.

Have you heard of Rambo? Cus I’m kind of like that. But with textbooks. I just like hulk smash people with knowledge.

That’s actually on my resume. Under Special Skills.

Cold & Disappointed

I’m smart. Really.

Just because one time, I was super excited that a car had the exact same license plate as my mom’s car—seriously! once in a lifetime sighting—does not mean I’m not smart. Maybe.

I had the opportunity to go to Washington D.C. last March. Not wanting to waste any days and mostly because the “snow storm to end all snow storms” was really just rain, I decided to brave the streets of D.C. and visit the White House.

Hmmm…

Rather small. Very white. Why am I the only one here besides armed men? I could slip through this fence. Why is it so small? I must be lost. This is not the White House.

Overall, I was immensely disappointed by the White House. Also really cold.

The next day, I visited the Capitol. And realized, the Capitol was not the White House.

Dangit.

I blame Hollywood. Can we be clear on our location the next time someone tries to take over D.C.? Ok thank you.

Gentlemen Only; Ladies Forbidden

Gentlemen  Only Ladies Forbidden. My feminist side cringes at this acronym. Then I remember that this is the most boring game ever and applaud the brilliant woman who thought of it. Serious.

A New, Enjoyable Game Formerly Known as Golf

1. Attempt to jump the river. Via golf cart.

2. Measure the water’s depth…

3. …in order to hit the ball from underwater

4. Catch tadpoles

5. Push someone into the water.

Like a boss.

Despite All Warnings

So the best part about my job is that roughly every 3 months I get a vacation. This time—despite all warnings to not do this—I decided to go back to the states. Apparently, any homesickness I had developed spread to include all of America, which is why I found myself sitting on an airplane for over 24 hours. 

So here’s a post about airplanes. Mostly. Ok but its only because military planes are so different than normal planes. Like when someone stands up before the flight to check that there are medics aboard. Or when the safety brief includes desert survival skills. Uhm can we just go back to learning how to click a seat belt?

And sometimes they let you sleep on the floor.

I’ve also now gotten on and off a plane in almost every way possible. I’m only missing jumping out and jumping in. One of which I’m thinking is impossible.

Being on a military plane is also just about the same as being on a roller coaster. This last time the pilot who was either new or stupid—I suppose it’s possible that they were just doing their job having a good time—took an extremely sharp turn. For a good 30 seconds I couldn’t even lift my arm up. Pretty much best plane ride ever.

Finally, people cheer for you. Which if you aren’t military, like myself, is pretty much the most awkward thing to ever happen. However, the amazing people in New Hampshire show up for every single military flight to either welcome the military home or send them off. People shake your hand and tell you thank you and give you candies. Veterans tell their story and they salute the military members in thanks. I don’t know if there is a better way to welcome those serving our country home than to drive through a snowstorm to let them know that their sacrifice is appreciated.  It’s also a lot harder to chicken out and ditch the plane back when a bunch of people cheer you down the walkway. Granted, a volunteer did try to stop me but that was mostly because he thought I was there with my parents since school was canceled. 

My feet don't touch the ground :/

Am I Wearing Pantz?

A lot of times, my blog focuses on the many things that Afghanistan is missing. But I don’t generally talk about the things that Afghanistan offers—mainly because the perks are few and far between. But that being said there are some pretty cool things about living here.

Cool things about Afghanland:

The food is not only free; it’s also all you can eat. Good luck.

Recently developed housing that also comes furnished.

Air Conditioning. Year round.

Cashmere scarves for $10

Danger Pay and Crappy Living Pay.

Personal Trainers. Oh heyoo American tax dollars! Jaykay! I’m on a NATO base so Europe pays for it. (I’m pretty sure but I can’t actually verify the validity of this fact. Don’t hate. I pay taxes too. And I’m now in great shape so thank you for your donation.)

A rather disproportionate ratio of men to women. Which is totally cool with me. Until of course, you combine my gym time and the disproportionate number of men to women. At which point this scenario occurs—

This really happens everywhere, but the gym is probably the number one place to get stared down. Possibly because I workout in shorts or possibly because I work out at the European gym and Europe seems to be more lax in the staring department. Either way I’m developing anxiety.

Jessica’s Stream of Consciousness Upon Getting Checked Out

Check for pants. Check for shirt. Touch shorts to double-check that they are indeed on my body. Look down to ensure all clothing hasn’t disappeared. Recheck for shirt. Is there toilet paper stuck on my shoe? Did I sit in mustard? Am I wearing pants? What are you looking at? Tell me!

Literally, this happens every time. Unless it’s a car that is driving unusually slow by me in which case I reevaluate my chances at the Olympic event of speed walking because I’m clearly walking 20 kph. They’re not being weird; I’m just that fast. Winner.

Please don’t think I’m trying to brag about how I’m really awesome (I am awesome.) but remember there is a pretty big lack of females on base. And finally, I’m not looking for compliments. Some of those stares look down right hostile and would make you think you sat in mustard too. Also, I may or may not be traumatized from an 8^th grade Halloween experience of “sitting in Ketchup”.

#Olympics2016 #Brazil

Germany and My Slightly Large Obsession with Food

Stop #2: Germany or more commonly known as the country of Schnitzel and happiness

If I ever develop an eating disorder— and we’re talking the rather obese, 1000 lb, weight watcher’s dream type of eating disorder—then I blame Afghanland. Because I have never thought about delicious food more than right before I left.

And then I landed in Germany and proceeded to eat the country.

Really though.

It was like complete shock that they had things like bread and cheese and milk and deliciousness. My first meal I ordered practically one of everything because I couldn’t decide and anything that said “kase” meant it had cheese and I just really missed cheese. 

Poor Liz, my travel buddy, was all embarrassed and kept saying things like, "Girl, I was like that the first time I left too..." or "For real? You really just stole some old guy's lunch?"

Then I got super sick, which most likely rescued me from a future as the next Biggest Loser. Which is actually to bad because Dolvett is a gorgeous man. 

I was also able to visit the Dachau concentration camp in Munich. If you ever have a chance to visit Germany I highly recommend visiting here. The site has a sacred spirit about it—not to mention the history and lessons embedded within its walls—and is one of the most moving places I have ever been. Oh also go read “No News from Auschwitz” as it is one of my favorites.

Another recommendation—since I am giving such excellent advice—take a river cruise. Probably best travel method of ever. I also would recommend going with Sheryl since she is great fun. But you’ll most likely have to schedule this in advance as she does have a real job. Or so she says.

Pictures will accompany this post but not till tomorrow since the internet in my bhut will not accomodate things like uploading. 

A bazillion and a half bikes.

Mark Twain visited Germany once upon a time and wrote a hilarious essay making fun of their language. Apparently, he stayed here while writing said hilarity and in honor the Germans keep a rather creepy mannequin of him in the house. 

Kind of Like Checking Into Prison

I always have these ideas of grandeur about updating my blog. And then I’m in London and told I can ride the train for as many times as I want and well even the best laid plans… But now I’m back in the trainless, treeless land, so yay!

Stop #1: Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan or more commonly known as the country that doesn’t exist

I was stuck in Bishkek for about three days—three perfect, beautiful days. I’d say it was the sunshine, stunning nature, and lack of work but let’s be honest—there were a lot of marines there. And I mean a lot.

Checking into the Bishkek airport was kind of how I imagine checking into prison would be. But with more metal detectors. And Asians that speak Russian and are most likely part of the mafia. And random backwards scans. That stopped me every time. Because of a compass. Kyrgyzstan did not understand. Finally, they convinced themselves it was some fancy type of watch—or at least that is what I assume happened—and let me through.

Another fun fact? Ok! Lines are lame—everyone push their way to the front. Also if traveling with a puppy feel free to let it run amuck. And please hand all screaming babies to complete strangers.