Erincita

Wednesday, February 26, 2003

Hey all, this is a partial e-mail I sent to a friend back home, thought it would make a good entry...

So I'll take my mind off it to answer your questions--you said I should keep you updated right? Give me any advice if you have any. About the classes I'm taking...yeah, it's all free here. Unlimited trips for seconds and thirds in the cafeteria, and it's generally good food too. They don't have things like Snickers or Gatorade or any brand-name stuff, but there's plenty of snack bars where you can buy them. The classes are really quality classes and of course there's any other kind of exercise imaginable (except rollerblading, they used to have it but I guess it became a liability). They have physical trainers you can talk to who used to work for the NFL! And that's free too! Being in shape is very important. I especially like the health clinic. You sign in and you can see a doctor or PA or RN any time you like, and you don't pay--they don't even want to see your proof insurance. Even most of the meds are free...tylenol or antibiotics if it's a virus you caught here at FLETC. The bar on campus is non-profit so the beer and drinks are super-cheap too. I'm going to head over there in a bit to catch up with a friend who was recycled like me. It was a trip to see her here because besides the instructors, there isn't one familiar face (Kris, if you're reading this, it's Deanna, she finished IOBTC but is back to finish up the Spanish portion). While people are here there's no end to complaints, but there really are alot of positives. The cool classes include kick-boxing, body-pump, yoga and cycling. Trust me, they all kick your ass. I sleep like a baby on the days that I work out.
We started shooting today. If I enjoy it any more I'm going to have a love affair with my weapon. I'll start sneaking in to clean it and oil it up even when it doesn't need it. I've already considered naming it. Is that sick or what? I can't help it though, it's just such a relief to be able to follow instructions without lack of stregth being such an impediment. The gun is adorable--can you say that about a gun? Lighter than a beretta, shorter barrel, easier to disassemble and a more convenient magazine-release button. Very sexy.
I really haven't told anyone about my class yet. It's way different than the last one and I think FLETC purposely sets them up this way. My last class was 100% inspectors with only two people who had prior experience in the INS. This class is 50% agents and 50% inspectors, with tons of retreads like me and people who are in the academy only because it's required to be promoted from part-time to full or to move from one agency to another. I like the arrangement. I'm not the youngest one anymore either. There's at least two others who are 23 and it looks like the majority of people are under 40. This is partly because agents, like the border patrol, must be 37 or under to apply. So my side of the classroom is "old". Things are still pretty easy, just alot of law and learning to use charts. It gets harder later on when it's all memorization (unless you happen to be good at that sort of thing). We have three exams next week, two for Naturalization Law and one for FLETC, which I tend to think of as a common-sense exam. Our class today was about stress management and cultural communication. The stats for law enforcement officers when it comes to suicide, alcoholism and divorce are downright depressing. Life expectancy is 59 when the national average is 72!!! I've been thinking about the future and how I want to handle my job when I get married and want to have a family. This class is definitely going to be a factor in such decisions. I will NOT sacrifice a family for a career, but I wonder if it's at all possible to find some sort of balance...
My apologies for not updating for so long, I gotta get going now but this is a self-reminder to include a spiel (I just learned how to spell that word) about my accomodations next time.

Chao! Erincita

1:40 PM |

Friday, February 21, 2003

Hello from FLETC. I've been back for a few days and the jet lag is killing me. I bought some no-doz to get me through the next week and hopefully I'll be in the swing of things by then. Our accomodations are posh. FLETC leases a building right off campus and I think these rooms are meant to be BOQs (bachelor officers quarters). A maid comes in to clean and make the bed every day, and we have a couch, arm chair, desk, full bed, wet bar with fridge, coffee maker and microwave, full bathroom with an actual tub, two phones with a dataport, a TV and a VCR. Nice, huh? Very nice. To top it off, I think I'm the first person to use the room I'm in. It's a brand new building with a courtyard deal, 5 floors and an outdoor pool in the middle.

4:56 PM |

Thursday, February 13, 2003

Is it really so bad to want to leave the past behind? I've discovered that I'm addicted to "fresh starts". New locations, new living situations, new jobs, new boyfriends (I'm trying to give those up in my mission to endure a sense of permanence) . . . I always vow that, when new people enter my life and I really like, and sometimes even love them, that I will not reveal things about my past that I have decided to leave behind. After all, if you've left them behind, do they really matter anymore? INDEED THEY DO. It's like those things that go bump in the night. Here and there they wake you up with a sense of alarm . . . something is there, something is threatening to rear it's ugly head, and you never can be sure if it's really gone because you know the bumps are incidental little things, not intentional. You know those cartoons where they used to have an angel on one shoulder and a little devil on the other? Well I'm telling you, demons do exist, you can be sure of it. Just read C.S. Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters". It'll make you think differently about the way you see the world and who is really in control of the way you see it.
Back to the way I try to leave things behind. Even if I do, I always tell people about something I consider to be awful about my past. I don't know why. Sometimes it's the longing for a true, honest relationship in which people truely love each other with nothing to gain and that unconditional love is really there. Tara, for instance, was about to go for a jog yesterday and gave me a hug in case she didn't get back before I left for work. I said thanks for the hug and we both thought it was a little odd, but I remember that morning really needing a hug and having no one to give me one. I can't understand how some people go for weeks, even months with no human contact, not even a pat on the back or a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. Algunas veces, un apreton de mano puede cambiar su manera completamente. So I guess I'm an affectionate person. When I get married, I want a kiss and a hug everytime I see my husband, even when we're waking up first thing in the morning. What a wonderful way to start the day! Is it too much to ask that it never seem routine either (please Lord!) It may seem like I'm anxious to get married, but that's really not the case. It's just something I see in my future, and I'm so sure of it that I can't help but daydream from time to time. I'm going to love being a wife. Being a mother still scares me some of the time, especially when I look at my mom and can't imagine ever measuring up to her. Note that I did not say her standards. My parents have never missed a chance to tell me they love me and that they are proud of me. Why I had such low self-esteem as a kid escapes me. But that reminds me of something. You know how teachers and parents like to tell you how special, wonderful and unique you are? If you don't believe them, then you're on the right track. Avoid a sense of pride and instead choose thankfulness--you are NOT the one who brings about success and prosperity.

11:19 PM |

Well, I received at least one e-mail in appreciation of my "deep" journal entry posted on the 6th. I don't know where that came from. It's normally the type of thinking I would reserve for my private journal, but I figure that most people have these kinds of thoughts at one time or another, and a little empathy would be nice. Perhaps I'm going through my quarter-life crisis? It's entirely plausible. I mean, the timing makes sense. The eternal search for "purpose". . . I've been doing alot of deep thinking lately, best done in private because otherwise I seem to be staring into space and contemplating my navel otherwise. Writing helps me sort things out in an organized fashion. With that said, I'm completely disorganized of late. I'm stressed out and lazy--not a good combination. But it is cause and effect. When the task ahead is overwhelming it's much easier to be ignorant.
Ever since Sherie shared the wonderful news that she is engaged (Sherie & Jerry--ain't it sweet?), I've had to contemplate the idea of moving. I've decided on Bellingham, because nothing else within hours of this place comes even close to resembling a city, and I also have an ideal domicile in my mind. I'd like a studio or one-bedroom apartment, or a loft, situated above one of the shops in the heart of downtown. I know what I can afford but I'm rather stingy. The trick will be finding a place like this within a week of returning from FLETC, which will be sometime in early May. Sherie's gracious enough to let me shack up with her and her husband until June, at the absolute latest, because by then she will be following her hubby to Virginia. Leaving and cleaving (from parents, that is)--it's the Christian way of things. "...and he shall leave his parents and join with his wife, and they will become one flesh" (or something along those lines, I don't have my Bible handy).
I remember having this same feeling when I discovered that I was going to be laid off from my old job at the university. It's the feeling of just not caring. Arriving to work late is comparable to not cleaning the house anymore, because you don't really "own" the job or the place anymore. As a result my room is a complete disaster and somehow I have to dig through the mess and decide what to pack for FLETC, what to store at my parent's place, and what to leave until I come back. It doesn't seem like it would be such a challenge, and I guess it really isn't. The hard part is getting started.
The other thing I have to do before leaving is get my uniform materials straightened out. I can't even begin to explain what a waste of time this is. I ordered everything before I left for FLETC the first time. Besides being too big for me, the uniforms are the administrative type only worn at airports. I suppose I should return them in exchange for the rough-duty uniforms, but what's the point when we're most likely going to be Homeland Security and not INS when I get back in May? I hate putting effort into things that make no sense...

4:43 PM |

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

I love church! I wish more people could say that. It's kind of wierd, how I'm addicted to the pain of finding a parking space, have a man yell at me for upwards of an hour, then ask me for money every Sunday morning. It's one of those things that makes me truly believe in God. Last Sunday was the old standby: fire and brimstone. I won't repeat any of here because it would be extremely offensive to some. Once he gets through with instilling in us the fear of God and Hell we always get to the "good news" of faith, grace, hope and love. I'm going to miss it alot when I go to FLETC, as I did the first time I went. Only one week left! I've been working the 4 to midnight shift for awhile and really like it. It's pretty laid-back and it's cool to meet those who I haven't gotten to know because they work this shift regularly. I have no trouble staying awake because I'm naturally a night-owl, and I can sleep in as late as I want. It's awfully cold but often sunny in the mornings, so I'm out gathering firewood every morning, eating a leisurely breakfast, exercising and doing various errands or reading before getting ready for work. I hate trying to make myself tired in order to go to bed early enough to get up before dawn without a problem. That reminds me...I'm in for another 2-plus months of getting up at 5:30am 6 DAYS A WEEK! Ah well, I guess it's biblical. God only rested one day, right? Then again, that's God... us humans need a little more leisure time. And I'm told that February is when it starts getting hot in Georgia. Besides the heat and humidity I haven't been prepared for after 17 years in Seattle, there's BUGS. The size of which you've never seen. West-nile virus, fire ants, relentless mosquitos on the firing range. Strangely, I'm looking forward to it. I'm just a "glutton for pain" (phrase reference to "Igby Goes Down"), I suppose. A couple of guys from work drove all the way to FLETC, one in 48 hours. I don't know if I could take the drive, but it's the fact that I don't think my car would make it that keeps me satisfied with a flight. It hasn't been that long...I can easily slip back into the college-mode of shuttles and buses scheduled to take you to...to...oh yeah...Wal-Mart. Brunswick really is hell, I'll bet Satan holds regular seminars there and that he created armadillos to be his lap-dogs. At least we're within an hour or two of some happenin' places like Savannah, Jacksonville and Charleston. I just gotta be nice to everybody...eventually I'll run into someone with a car.

8:44 PM |

Thursday, February 06, 2003

I used to be such a passionate person, I felt everything cut to core of my heart and cherished my meloncholy moods as my best condition for writing. I thought these skills would develop as I grew older, but as it happens, all the experiences I used to dream of and write about have happened, and none of them have added up to what my dreams fooled me into anticipating. My anxiety had everything so premeditated that I can sometimes look back with tenderness and believe things were perfect, but in the back of my mind is the disillusionment, like a backdrop that ruins what would otherwise be a moving play. Something almost indistinguishable just doesn't fit.
Now that I think about it, I wonder if there's even any value to being a passionate person, and if it always depends on what one is passionate ABOUT. Things started to make more sense when I became a Christian, but the lack of confusion makes for boring journal entries, and all my dreams become prayers, most of which are answered by pure grace. For example, I prayed for this job with the INS. The accompanying prayers that I be good at it have yet to be answered. I don't know what I expected, but it feels like something is missing. I'm happy, in the general sense. Work is gratifying, I love my roommates and cherish my friends and family, and feel more or less accepted by the people in my life. I'm working on self-improvement, as always, and realizing each day how self-centered I am (see how many sentences in this entry start with "I"?). It's disgusting at times. Not knowing what's missing helps to put that "sweet madness" and "glorious sadness" (Sarah McLaughlan) back in my life, for a time.

11:13 PM |

Saturday, February 01, 2003

The future tends to look alot better when one can enjoy the present. Work is going great, even though it's still nothing close to what I will be doing once I finish training at FLETC. They've got me doing cashiering, and even though it's not a glamorous position, it's critical and therefore makes me useful. It keeps me busier and I feel much more like a part of things. The new responsibility and better rapport with co-workers are both answers to prayer. Since we have John normally doing cashiering during the day, I voluntarily changed my hours to 4pm to midnight, Tuesday through Saturday. It's mostly because Dana gets the same days off. I have the day off for church and Monday to spend with Dana or take care of things you can't normally do during the weekend. The interesting part is how I'm going to spend my days until 4pm. I'm sure it will be nice to be able to sleep in, but working out, reading, making dinner, etc has become part of my wind-down routine, and now it's going to have to become more of a warm-up routine, unless I totally want to screw up my schedule and not sleep until 4am most of the time. I don't see that happening.
It was a joy to get a phone call from Alvin this week. He's one of the people I had the privelege to meet in my class at FLETC. He kept me grounded and encouraged me when things got really stressful for me. Completely selfless and inspiring. He was calling me because I left some boxes of uniforms and books with him because I couldn't take them home. He was thinking he might be able to hand them to me, but as it turns out, he will be leaving FLETC the morning of the day I arrive--only I'm arriving in the evening. It's kind of eerie to me, the way it guarantees me not running into anyone from my class. I wonder if I will get any of the same instructors or if they will recognize me. He's made me promise to go to a video arcade and practice my shooting on one of the games there, so that's on the schedule for tomorrow. Hopefully Dana will join me. Alvin said to pump $20 worth of quarters into the machine and just have at it.
Last night was kind of an event. Dana and I "went out" for the first time together. Lord knows I've tried to get her to come out with me a few times before, but it took the persistence of co-worker at comp to get her to go. We went to a sports bar called Sluggers. There was good music but no dancing, much to my dismay. I'm more of the type who goes to clubs with bars rather than bars trying to feign a club atmosphere. We met up with 3 other girls Dana knew, two of which played volleyball. There's something very comforting about hanging out with other girls just as tall as you are. We had some drinks (Skyy lemonades were $1) and played some pool. We left pretty early--about midnight--but I had a bit too much to drink, slept all the way home and stumbled into bed when we arrived. I feel fine now though, so it wasn't nearly enough to give me a hangover. Good thing, because I'm going out tonight too! It will start out pretty tame. One of mom's friends that I've known since forever is coming to the island to see her godson perform "Our Town" at Youth Theatre Northwest. I remember one summer when I performed a scene from that play when I was in middle school, but I've never seen the whole play, nor do I even know what it's about. I'm guessing it's sort of a "coming of age" thing. She and her husband will take me out to dinner and the play. After that I'm going to a house party with Bryce. He has all these connections and always seems to know where the Latin extravaganzas are going to be. The invitation specifies to bring dancing shoes so I'm pretty excited. Que les disfruten uds igual como yo. Chaito!!

4:43 PM |