Every Thursday I visit my Army recruiter. We go over my pre-basic training task list. I’m about half way done with everything that I need to do now, I think. I’ve learned military time, the phonetic alphabet, how to identify the insignia of NCOs, WOs, and COs, and my general orders. I’ve created an AKO account, and I can do the minimum requirement for push-ups and sit-ups in my sleep. I still have to learn Army History and Values, create a direct-deposit bank account, do some kind of risk-assessment work, and some other thing that I can’t quite remember at the moment.

Yesterday, we worked on marching as well as drill and ceremony with replica M16A1 rifles. I’ve learned that I’m not very coordinated. You try doing an about face on carpet before you laugh at me.

Today after school I have to go to the Quad City Arts in downtown Rock Island. My art teacher entered a painting of mine in a show. Apparently there was some kind of competition that I was not aware of. A woman who works at the show called me the other day and told me that I won something but wouldn’t say what. Could be worst in show for all I know. At least that’s what I’ve been told and have been telling others since.

I’ve told my family, Morpheus, and my recruiter. They’ll be going to the show with me.

It would sure be embarrassing if I went there with the people I’ve told and it turns out I didn’t win anything after all. Not that I care about winning things too much, like I said, I didn’t even know there was a contest.

The woman who called me said I’d have to go there to find out what I won. Actually, I was planning on going anyway. Not to see my own painting, obviously. I’ve had plenty of time to look at that blasted thing and I’m quite sick of it to be honest. The reason I’m going is of course because I absolutely love art shows. I just can’t wait to see everyone’s work!

That Alex kid, the best artist I’ve ever seen has at least one piece in the show that I know of. I hear that he won best in show for his self-portrait. He totally deserves it.

Tomorrow I have to be up early to see my recruiter. I’ll be taking my PT test… or a practice one, whatever. I don’t remember off hand what the requirements for push-ups and sit-ups are, I just know for a fact that I wont be having a problem. What might give me trouble, however, is the 2-mile run. I am not a runner. Wednesday I managed to run a mile on a treadmill in just over 9 minutes. I think that listening to Steve Vai’s Speed Metal Symphony helped. Luckily, I think I’ll only be asked to run one mile tomorrow, but eventually I’ll have to do 2 in some unreasonable amount of time.

Wish me luck?

EDIT!

Warning! You are now entering Super Rant Zone. Which is a bad choice on your part. Watch yours step and beware falling objects.

I just go back form the art show. The space was limited and crowded which just served to make me even more nervous than usual.

Hmm… I seem to have more cause to be nervous than usual lately, now that I think about it.

So, as expected, Alex won best in show. I saw all the rest of the artwork at the show; it was a truly marvelous exhibit. Still, Alex definitely earned his place. As great as many of the other pieces were, nobody else could even compare. I voted for him for the people’s choice award. I hope he wins. I told him so, but I don’t think that he heard me.

My AP teacher won an award too, 2nd place in a teacher’s only category, if I recall correctly. I believe his was a painting of his golden retriever. It was so awesome. I wish he’d paint in class or at least bring some of his paintings in to show us. It’s always a pleasure to see this particular teacher. He’s a kind man who laughs and smiles with his whole face inviting others to do the same. He’s probably my favorite teacher ever. I’ll miss him when I graduate. I hope we can keep in touch.

In addition to naturally being a great place to admire artwork, the art show is a great place to see and meet people. My teacher led me around and introduced me to people, including the woman who ran the show whom I’d spoken to over the phone.

The most interesting person he introduced me to was a man who worked for a place that manufactured TUAVs. I believe he said that he was on a research team several years ago. He told me that the brains people who fly the drones often have difficulty with the 3-D virtual environment used to pilot the plane. These people, he added, often become physically ill.

My recruiter was even nice enough to show. Actually, we passed each other on the street as I was arriving and he was leaving. I’ll have to ask him tomorrow how the game he went to see went. I do feel bad about making him late. Whatever sporting event he was attending must surely have been much more interesting than a small art show, I’m sure. I do appreciate him making an appearance; he’s a pretty cool guy.

Morpheus couldn’t come. The person who was supposed to cover for her at work didn’t show.
Oh, I did win something after all, honorable mention. $50. I disagree with my placement, however. Having had a chance to get a good look around, I don’t think I really deserved to win anything. I short of feel like I robbed the person who would have had my place.

When I first finished my painting, it was a ‘good enough’ kind of deal. I wasn’t proud of it, but I didn’t really think that I’d yet developed the skill to do much better (It was only the second oil painting I that I’ve ever ‘finished’) so I just called it ‘done.’ That was several months ago.

Today I had a chance to look again. I immediately wanted to rip it off the wall and either fix it or kill it. So much mud… mess ARG it was just gross.

Still, people just kept on complimenting me. I just smiled like an idiot and said my ‘thank you’s,’ while silently wondering about the condition of their eyes. I can’t express my disagreement because then everyone just thinks that I’m either fishing for compliments or have low self-esteem. I DON’T!

Maybe I’m just odd, but I absolutely hate being mindlessly complimented. Especially if the person giving the compliment can’t even tell me what, exactly, it is that they like. How am I supposed to know what it is that I am doing right? Even If they tell me what I do right, that does me little good if I’ve apparently already figured it out. It’s advice too late; I’ve already stumbled across the answer.

Actually, I’d rather be told about what I’m doing wrong. I love getting criticism. I want to hear people tell me about my mistakes. Then I know that (a) they actually bothered to look and they’re not just telling me what they think I want to hear, and (b) so I know what I can do so that I can improve.

That’s why I love children; they say exactly what they think. Somewhere along the way, people just seem to consider it more important to make others feel good than make them better, or express their own honest thoughts. (Are you finding my use of pronouns confusing?) This isn’t productive.

But the absolute worst thing anyone could ever possibly say to me is ‘better than I can do.’ ARG! I absolutely detest that phrase! I wish those words could be surgically removed from the world’s vocabulary.

These aren’t just my thoughts about comments on my attempts at art. This is my philosophy on receiving comments for absolutely anything.

I just wish that I could do the same for others. I’m notoriously tongue-tied, especially when it comes to actually speaking (you know, that really annoying thing people do with their mouths sometimes?). I just find trouble finding the words to express myself. I usually just smile like an idiot and say ‘good job,’ just like everyone else. I wonder if others find me annoying.

I suppose you would, if you actually bothered to read through this rant.

So, I went to MEPS. Was Ok enough. Took my ASVAB on an empty stomach first thing after arriving. Got a 90, which I’m told isn’t bad. I wanted a 93 though. I didn’t find out until several days later that the computer ASVAB was an adaptive test. If I would have known that I wouldn’t have been so worried when I got difficult problems.

I did everything else I needed to get done at MEPS on day two. Had to get up at the but crack of dawn. I guess that’ll be something I’ll have to be getting used to.

So I picked a job specialty. I’ll be a TUAV Operator. I’m told that flying the unmanned aircraft around is like playing a video game. Should be fun.

I’ll have to go to some place in Arizona, Fort Huachuca - or was it Wachuca? – for 22 weeks to learn how to do that. This is after completing my 9 weeks of basic training at Fort Lost-in-the-Woods, which I have to go to sometime in late July.

In the mean time, I’ve joined a few fitness centers. Hn, somebody should tell me that to benefit from a gym membership I actually have to GO to the gym and, ya know, work.

I’m busy. I’ve got a self-portrait oil painting to work on. Gotta get a good grade in art…

Actually, the only two classes I really need to pass this year are Sociology and Gym. If I don’t pass those classes I don’t get to graduate, and if I don’t graduate, my recruiter will NOT be happy with me.

I’m not worried though. But then, I never really am.

The other day, my Graphic Art teacher, Mr. K, was attempting to make small talk in the the dark room while getting me film. Casually, he asked me what I did the previous night, expecting me to detail mundane teenage adventures such as eating Cheetos and watching old episodes of Friends.

I honestly informed him that on the previous night I had gone to my local recruitment office and joined the Army. Heh, you should have seen his face.

Not going to art school, joining the Army instead. ...Yeah, I know.

Tomorrow, instead of going to school and singing Over the Hills and Far Away by Nightwish for my sociology class, I’ll be riding a shuttle out to Des Moines. Gotta take a test and get a physical. My food and room at the hotel I’ll be staying at overnight while there is on the ‘Army Dime,’ as my recruiter put it. This’ll be fun. I’m kinda nervous though. I dislike going to the doctor. All the sterile white, I think.

Gunna be in the Delayed Entree program, I think. I’ve got 5 months until I graduate and get to go to basic training. In the mean time, I have to train for training, got a lot of skills to learn, strengthening to do, yelling to get used to, that kind of thing.

I'm not worried though. I can handle this and I really think it'll help me grow as a person. Plus I get to travel, see new places, learn new things...
Some of my friends are proud of me, others just think I'm nuts. My mom is playing it cool, giving me dumb advise and pretending like I'm just heading out to summer camp. Father's indifferent, as usual.

Later, I’ll go to school for art. Computers too. Maybe I can make video games someday. I wonder how I’d get into that sort of thing? I’ve got plenty of time to figure that out, I figure.