I'm Almost Done...I'm Almost Done...

(***sorry for not posting anything lately, I've been doing a lot of paperwork for the end of the month/end of my tour***)

I just have to keep remembering that...
Started the countdown already, crossing my fingers that everything goes smoothly with my replacement getting over here.

I'm not sure if it's because I'm getting antsy and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, or if things are actually getting more annoying, but my patience is beginning to run thin. You see, it's swap-out season over here. The people I'm used to having around are leaving and new people come in to take their place. Doesn't seem like much of a problem at first, but let us peel back this onion a little bit...
Layer 1) The people that are already here have been here for a while (around a year). They're used to how things go and are not surprised by much. They know that we're here to fly planes and get the mission done. I, for the most part, enjoy these people and their mentality.
Layer 2) The new people coming in are probably pissed off that they have to stay here for a year and they're just getting started. I'd be pretty pissed, too. They're also coming from places where they don't fly wartime missions, which means they have the time and energy to focus on the menial little details that really don't create problems in the long run, but they think there may be a "trend" or something, so they focus in on that little insignificant detail like a laser beam and ask you all sorts of stupid questions, even though all of your stats are the best they've been in over a year so you obviously know what you're doing, but they're new and haven't quite gotten the grasp of how hard that is to do in this kind of environment...where was I? Oh yeah...
Layer 3) If you were taking over a leadership position, what's the first thing you would do to assert your dominance and ensure everybody knew that there was a new boss in town? If your answer is "change everything for no apparent reason!" then the Air Force has got job for you.
Layer 4) I'd get in trouble if I explained layer four...
Layers 5-10) Of course, everybody doesn't all swap out at once. They do it one by one, so the above items get repeated at every level of leadership, over the course of a couple of months.

Another thing that's been irritating me is having to shop for an apartment while I'm here. Out of all the places I emailed, only two responded with one apartment available each. Well, by the time I started asking questions about the apartments, one had already been snatched up. I decided to apply for the only one left, sight unseen. I was told after submitting the application through email that I would have to pay $140 in fees to hold the apartment until I got back, but that I should "hurry" to mail the checks in because they had an appointment to show the apartment on Tuesday. Seriously?!? If I lose this apartment, I'm going to have to start all over again...and maybe live in a van for a couple months...ROADTRIP!!!

Even though things are annoying at the moment, the overall experience of this trip has been one of the best I've had in the Air Force, so far (it's only been 3 years). I've been lucky to have had as many good experiences as I've had, but this is the first "good" experience I've had in aircraft maintenance. Almost good enough for me to not re-apply for a pilot slot this fall...but not quite. It's been great to be in a leadership position where I have a group of guys, a fleet of jets, and minimal interference from my boss(es). I've learned a great deal about my job as well. If I were to go back and do this trip all over again, there's not a whole lot that I would change. I would probably start looking for an apartment earlier on so I didn't get shortchanged when the time came to go back! (honestly, only TWO apartments available in all of downtown Omaha!?! Ridiculous.) Other than that, I would have focused more at the beginning on being more involved with submitting my guys for monthly awards. We're scrambling this month to put together some good awards packages so hopefully my guys can win some (including myself...cause I'm awesome). Also, I would have set stronger goals for myself and planned a little better to use my free time more productively. I haven't lost a lot of actual weight, but I have trimmed up and gained some muscle. Mainly because my knee hurts too much to run for more than 45 minutes and get the cardio in. Going on a tangent here, I'm pretty sure that deployed military members keep both GNC and Bodybuilding.com in business. EVERYBODY out here takes some sort of muscle building supplement or weight loss pills. Mainly because you get bored. But after working a 12 hour day, eating dinner, and getting a full night's sleep, you end up with about 1-2 hours a night of free time. Plenty of time to go get jacked in the gym or train for a half-marathon, if that's all you ever do in your free time. But I also had enough time here to probably fit in another master's course. All-in-all, it's nice to get away and have the time to focus on the things you never find the time to focus on when you're back home.

Well, I don't want this to get too long, so here's some pictures from our last beach trip to close this thing out:

This one's for the fellas

And this one's for the ladies...giggity!
(you can't see it, but there's a ripped six pack underneath that forearm, trust me)

I'm off to dinner!

Me + Keys = FAIL

If this is any evidence as to what I have to look forward to when I'm old, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be that old guy wandering around the neighborhood with no pants on trying to remember where I put the TV remote...while figuring out which house is mine.

So far on my trip, I've locked my keys in my truck three times and my room key in my room four times. When I first got here, I was also late to the same weekly meeting three weeks in a row. I was just reminded of all of this when I went to take a shower this morning. Once I got back to my room, I quickly realized that I had locked my keys in my room.
After the barrage of expletives I mumbled to myself, I had to walk the quarter mile to the lodging office to sign out a spare key to get back in. Fairly uneventful, and it only set me back 10 minutes for the day, but the worst episode of key forgetfulness was actually kind of funny...

I had just gotten back to my room from a busy day at work when I searched my pockets for my key. No luck. I went back out to my truck and, sure enough, the keys were still dangling in the ignition. Now, when it comes to the truck keys, the office with the spare keys is about two miles away. Luckily I was able to get some keys to one of our other vehicles, which happened to be a bus, and drove over to the office. So I'm driving this bus, which has a manual transmission, over to the office and upon arriving, I read the sign saying they closed two hours ago. Awesome. So I take my bus all the way back to my trailer and think of what to do, since I won't be able to get into my truck until the next day. I ended up going to the lodging office and getting the spare key and borrowing another vehicle in the morning to get around.
On a separate occasion, I locked my keys in my room one night after work and then, less than ten hours later, locked them in my room again after I went and took a shower.

Moral of the story: Our nation can trust me with multi-million dollar aircraft, supervising a unit of Airmen, and top secret information...but it may want to re-think giving me any responsibility that has keys involved.

On a completely unrelated, yet slightly depressing note, I found this awesome website that sums up my entire childhood and provides a great means for vivid flashbacks:

http://imremembering.com/

Anyone who grew up in the 80's should...nay...NEEDS to check it out! So go get your slap bracelets, MC Hammer pants, and your 4 pound compact disc player and prepare to be transported back in time to the wonderful world of He-Man, Thundercats, and anything bright neon. Your welcome (assuming you had an awesome childhood)!

We're Goin' to the Beach!...for an Hour...

Yeah...my beach day kind of got "rained" out. I say rain, but in all actuality, it was mud from the sky and some 60mph winds that interfered with the intended beach fun. Here's the sky full of dust (sorry you can't see the wind, pretty sure a camel flew by right before I took this shot)

(hint: you can't see the horizon...or anything behind the building)

We spent most of the day at one of the malls downtown just to kill some time, but then the sun decided to come out and we figured we'd give it a shot and headed to the beach anyway. That decision was made at about 4 in the afternoon...the sun goes down around 6. Almost worth the trip...(not really)

 Mostly British people staying at the hotel.

Man...this post is boring...I hope you're not still reading this...

I just don't have a lot to talk about.

Umm...the high for this Saturday is forecast to be 118 degrees?

We didn't end up having to change out that engine, like I thought we would?

...I got nothing...how about a picture of a nice sunset and some camels?

Yeah...I didn't fool you, did I? It's a painting. See the signature at the bottom right? I didn't say it would be a REAL picture of a sunset and camels, but it's the closest I'm going to get. And, by the way, the sunsets here are nowhere near that nice looking. They lie.

Well, sorry for the lame post, but I had a lame day off...plus I'm tired. I'll try to come up with something better for Thursday.

Not Cool Man...Not Cool

This is going to be a short post, mainly because nothing has really happened here lately. I mean, nada.Which, up until today, is actually a fantastic thing! Why, you ask?
1. It means my planes are flying well, my people are staying out of trouble, and I have little to say at any of my meetings.
2. Because of #1, it gives me and my guys more free time at work to do other things...like play Call of Duty or watch the entire 5th season of "How I Met Your Mother." You know, the REAL important stuff.
3. It's been getting a heck of a lot hotter now, which means everyone would rather be inside in the air conditioning doing as little as possible. We measured the temperature of the concrete that makes up the flight line with one of our infrared thermometers today...it was 144 degrees.

But today, the joy ride has come to a screeching halt. Like at the end of an amusement park roller coaster where you come gliding in at the end, and then they put the air brakes on and if it weren't for the restraints, you'd bash your forehead into seat in front of you. But I digress...

Remember a few posts back, about a month ago, where I wrote about us having to change out one of the engines on our jets? (If not, please feel free to do so to get the full effect) Turns out that new engine we installed isn't working out so well. More like getting a liver transplant from an alcoholic.The plane landed today with some engine issues that may drive us to change it...AGAIN! Before I arrived here, this unit went over a year without having to change an engine. Of course, now that I'm here, we may possibly have to do two in less than two months.The universe/karma/God/whatever you believe in, is playing a joke on me and it is so not cool.

So that's what I get to look forward to in the morning. Best case scenario? My guys find out what's wrong with the engine and we can fix it. Worst case? We have another maintenance heavy task of changing out an engine when the concrete is getting upwards of a 150 degrees in the daytime.

Let the countdown to when I go home begin...

At least I get to go to the beach Sunday! (and me without my speedos)

My Visit to Mantanistan

No, it's not another Middle Eastern country you've never heard of, so don't bother looking it up. I mean, you can try. I tried. I didn't get very far. Maybe I can be the first webpage to come up when someone searches for Mantanistan! My first step to fame!

I took my first trip to the base's outdoor pool today, also known around here as "Man-tan-istan." Hopefully you get it by now, but if not, look at the following picture:

...now, how many chicks can you point out (HINT: there's at least two!)...uh huh...now how many dudes (HINT: a lot more than two!)...there you go, now you get it, right?

It's usually filled by the biggest tools you can find. You know the ones. They're usually pretty fit, but they workout their arms and shoulders unproportionally  more than the rest of their bodies, so they walk around looking like they can't even wipe their own asses. Add to that one body part of your choice covered in colorful, meaningless tattoos. Usually either the arm and shoulder combo, the upper back, or the chest, and it's more than likely of the tribal nature (curvy lines). Then, of course, they're sporting the board shorts that are mostly white, with either reflective aviator sunglasses or the overly large Oakley's. And don't forget the perfectly groomed, gelled hair and shaved/waxed chest and back.

But I can live with all those d-bags hanging around the pool for one reason...the occasional good looking lady in a bikini. Now, after several months over here without seeing anything more than a pony tail in PT gear and girls in camouflage, just about any girl can look good in a bikini at this point. It's a known phenomenon called a desert queen. Check the link for a definition. Especially since even when we go off base, the most we usually see are women in burqas and all you can see are their eyes. Kind of like the jawas in Star Wars. But it's hilarious watching all the guys when a decent looking girl comes in to the pool or is floating around on a raft. Everyone tries not to be obvious and stare, but they almost walk into stuff while looking out of the corner of their eyes. Even the aviators/Oakley's can't hide it. I'm just as guilty. I'm thinking about growing a mustache over the next few weeks, then going back to the pool with a pair of binoculars and just being the creeper sitting in the corner as a joke, but I'd probably get in trouble.

Moving on, I don't know why I didn't come here earlier in my deployment, because it's absolutely amazing. It's the only place on base where you can be without a shirt on (for better or worse) and it makes for a nice, relaxing day off. This being my first time going, I was expecting to get a little sun. I didn't want to get too burnt, but I also wanted to get some color, so I set out after breakfast to find me some sun tan oil with, at most, an SPF of 10. First stop was the BX (AKA: store) closest to my trailer. Upon arriving, I was told that it was closed by someone I knew who was sitting by waiting for it to open. There was a sign in the door that said exactly this: "Liberty Gate locked down, store will reopen once associates are released." So...I guess the folks that run the store got held up at the gate or something. No biggie, I decided to drive to one of the other BX's on base to see if it was more than just that one store...and of course it was closed too. I drove back to the original BX and found that it was open, but they only had SPF 45 Sunscreen. What the hell? I might as well just leave my shirt on like a fat kid if I'm going to use that! So I get back in my truck and drive to one of the other BX's...again...and found the lowest anybody had was SPF 30. Guess I'm gonna have to make due.

Went straight to the pool with my new liquid clothing sun screen in hand and did absolutely nothing but lie on a chair for 2 hours. It was glorious. It started to get pretty hot out, and I was starting to get pretty hungry, so i packed up my things and headed to lunch. Only I ran into someone I knew who was just now deciding to go to the pool. I told them that I was going to grab a quick lunch and then I would head back to the pool to meet up, because what else was I going to do today? Got my lunch, put on more sunscreen, and headed back to the pool. By this time, it was incredibly hot out and felt like I was sitting in an oven, and the hot air blowing around just sucked all the moisture out of my eyeballs, so I decided to hop in the pool. Nothing exciting, but I can start to feel the tingle of sunburn coming on...headed back to my room and about an hour or so later I check myself out in the mirror for tan lines and BAM!, there it is. You can see exactly where I was able to put the sunscreen and everywhere I wasn't. Mostly on my back, but the backsides of my arms that I forgot about, and my thighs are completely red. I could probably cook an egg on my thighs. Even my knees are burnt. So much for SPF 30...

And that was my adventure for the day

In other news, this could possibly rank up there as the best week I've had out here so far.

For little reasons, I had to swap out my little truck once for a really beat up Ford Ranger from 1999 because my unit got last in vehicle inspections. Like, ghetto truck. I would be on the flight line and put it into park, but it would slip into reverse and I would start going backwards. Not a good thing when you're parking close to multi-million dollar airplanes. But then, one of the other units got in trouble with one of their vehicles and our commander told them to swap one of their vehicles with me as punishment. I know proudly drive a Ford F250 with extended bed AND cab. Booyah.

For boring reasons, my planes flew better than they have since I've been here. Short versions: this means I don't have to say anything or explain why we suck at life at my meetings on Monday, and it makes it look like I know what I'm doing. I get a gold star sticker for the week.

And, for more exciting reasons, I got word finally on when I can expect to go back home! Turns out I won't have to stay out here an extra month like I thought I would. Awesome news for me, because it's getting ridiculously hot out here and I didn't want to miss certain things going on back home. Now...I just have to figure out where I want to live when I get back...seeing as how I'm technically homeless at the moment...

Desert Man-Massage Adventure

Also known here as "a haircut".

Had to get a haircut today. I let it go as long as I could without people noticing, but I knew it would eventually need to be trimmed. Getting a haircut here is a bit of an experience, for lack of a better word. It starts out just like any other haircut that you would get in the states, at least from a male perspective...I can't say I know what the experience is like for you ladies out there...but you walk in, take a seat, and wait for the next available chair. Nothing out of the ordinary, but once you take a seat...that's when the adventure begins!

First off, the guy (because they're all guys, and this will be significant later on) will put that drapey thing over you to keep the cut hair off your clothes and then asks how you want your hair cut. Or at least you assume he's asking you how you want your hair cut, because he's actually fresh off the boat from India (or close to it) and he speaks in broken English. But you go with the assumption that he's asking you how you want your hair cut, because what else would he ask you about? How your day went? I doubt it. So I tell him, slowly and annunciating each word, that I would like a 1 on the sides, faded to a quarter inch on top. He doesn't say anything back, just nods and heads for the clippers. The clippers don't worry me, because they have measured guards with clearly labeled numbers. Pretty sure he won't screw that up, but I start thinking...I wonder if he understands "inches"? I mean, if he's from anywhere but the U.S., then he obviously is more familiar with the metric system. Should I have said centimeters? Crap...how many centimeters are in a quarter of a inch?!? Needless to say, I shrugged off the metric system in school since the U.S. was eventually going to take over the world and enforce our standard system, right? Not soon enough, I guess. And when would I ever need to use the metric system outside of chemistry class? I got a C in the last chemistry class I took! I gave up on doing the conversion in my head, because by the time I actually figured it out the haircut would be done with anyways. So I said screw it and we'll see how this turns out.

He eventually finishes up with the clippers, having taken an abnormally long time around the neck line, and starts with the scissors. At first, he just sort of hacks away at the top of my head. No measuring whatsoever. WTF is going on here? At this point, I'm more curious as to how his unorthodox method will turn out, as opposed to worried about the possible result of a horrific hair cut. Is he a hidden Paul Mitchell, or just carelessly hacking away at my hair like a hedge trimmer? I watch intently as he takes big cuts and small cuts, and in-between cuts, wondering if this guy had any sort of training at all before they let him loose with clippers and a pair of scissors...I'm going  with the latter...

(SIDEBAR: one of the things I enjoy immensely about getting a haircut out here is that fact that there's no mindless banter, due to the language barrier. LOVE IT! I hate going in to get a haircut and having to talk about meaningless crap. Trying to come up with random topics like the weather, my job, what I have planned for the day/weekend/life, or having to answer any questions relating to those topics with more than one word. I'm paying for a haircut, not a therapy session. Plus, I just don't like talking to people I don't know...or even most of the people I DO know...j/k)

So he finishes with the scissors and everything seems to be where it's supposed to be, albeit with a bowlcut-esque look to my bangs (think Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber), but I can fix that. Now the haircut's done and I just have to pay and be on my way, right?

Of course not. The title of this post wouldn't be "Desert Man-Massage Adventure" if there were no man-massage in it, right? That's right! Have you ever seen/heard of some of those haircut places like SportsClips in the states that have ladies who give you a little shoulder massage with your haircut? Well, it's kind of like that, except instead of ladies they have Indian guys...and instead of "a little shoulder massage", they beat your head and shoulders around and maybe massage your eyebrows a little. They also do this crazy thing with their hands together where when they hit your head with their double-handed fist, it sounds like all the knuckles in their hands are cracking at the same time. Freaky stuff the first time you hear it. Oh, and the first haircut I got here, the guy cracked my neck both ways like a chiropractor. Pretty sure he's not licensed and I was definitely wondering what the hell he was going to do when he grabbed my chin and head and started twisting it. I'm still alive, and walking, so it turned out okay.

So it was only after I was slightly beaten into submission that I was allowed to get out of my chair and pay the good man and be on with my day. $5.25, plus tip. I'd be slightly disappointed in the resulting haircut, but everybody else is walking around with the same crappy haircut too. It's like a special club haircut!

Needless to say, I try and make it as far as I can between haircuts as I can. One of the few things I dislike more than talking to people I don't know is when strange men from foreign countries and broken English want to give me a massage...but unlike the talking to strangers thing of mine, I think more people would agree with the massage thing.

-And that was my eventful story of the day. (sorry for no pictures)

P.S.- I'm pretty sure I was partially right about the metric system vs standard, because he only cut it to about half an inch

Down for the Count

Speaking of beat downs, I caught some sort of cold this week (hence not responding to any comments and such) that's totally got me beat. Woke up one morning with a little bit of a sore throat, then BAM! It feels like somebody tried to gag me with a brillo pad and beat me with a stick for a few hours. Having a cold in hot weather is no fun. I got back to my room from work the other day and went to bed at 7:15, and then this past night I slept for 12 hours straight.  So, apologies for not getting back to all of your comments yet, I'm just trying to get some rest...and not die...

With being sick for most of this week, I wasn't able to go out and do a whole lot. Wasn't even really able to focus a whole lot at work, either. Luckily it was an easy week and all my jets are flying well. I did go out Saturday night for a few drinks with all the people I work with because there's a couple of them that are going home this coming week, so it was sort of a farewell party.

One thing I've learned from all the traveling with the Air Force is that the people you're with definitely make the experience. I've had some fun trips so far, and I consider myself lucky, especially on this first deployment. I've heard some horror stories about Lieutenants getting eaten alive in a deployed assignment because they don't have enough experience. So, I'm a little apprehensive about all the new people that are going to be coming in to replace the people I'm already used to.

Hey look! An AC-130 Gunship! (or a "plane" for you civilian folk) My favorite plane decided to divert here for a day. Guns are on the other side...and by guns, I mean a mini-gun and a humongous Howitzer cannon. B...f''in...A.