Where the Fun Ain’t Got No End…

WE RUN THIS. So. Hafa Adai, Guam. We need to talk! In retrospect, this deployment was a whirlwind of amazing people, truly rewarding flying with top aviators, copious amounts of booze, & more than a few bad decisions… & I mean that in the nicest way possible. A few of us carved out a nice group, adopting each other as a dysfunctional little family. And, oh, a family it was, with everyone watching each others’ backs and taking care of one another. It’s so important when you’re seven thousand miles from home to have friends that care about you. Not to mention awesome wingmen to go to the clubs with, and get in trouble with; that’s the important shit! Here’s our official squadron photo; let me highlight the fact Wrecker is throwing a too-sassy hip, and Lucky & Mike are the only cool guys with their sleeves rolled up. Red Devils, the Air Force’s finest.

Anyway, there were so many fun nights out, and a pilot in our squadron actually brought his DJ gear and played some gigs in the clubs downtown. How baller is that? Get deployed and DJ, which is his favorite thing in the world to do. It made me super happy to see him in his chill zone, especially when resident DJs recognized him at other events, like a huge New Year’s Eve party we went to at the Sheraton hotel in Tumon. Speaking of NYE, it was pretty much the best ever. Rustic, Wrecker, and I were on a serious mission the day after Christmas to scour Guam for the party dresses and shoes this bitch had to offer. Not passing up an opportunity to hang out with the squadron’s most fun ladies, Mike tagged along to give second opinions on party attire. He even got a dress shirt and red tie to wear to the party. A TIE. So fucking baller; looked more swank than any of the dudes there. Anyway, the ladies were successful and we all got “personality dresses”. I saw Wrecker’s in the window at Guess? and it just screamed “Red Devil”. I strong armed her into trying it on, and it looked like it was made for her. Rustic found a pinup style retro dress, and I found a short dress that was completely covered in gold sequins. I’ll say it once, I’ll say it again. For me personally, it takes a lot of money to look this cheap. My sister said our lives were like a Ke$ha song. I’m not totally sure whether to be really flattered or really ashamed. The fact I’m not sure which says it all… Lost ten pounds on Guam due to me & Wrecker’s um, liquid diet. This is how we do.

NYE2014. The New Year’s Eve started with our very handsome, very pilot-y, very platonic dates coming by a little early to pregame. And what did these courteous and polite young Air Force officers bring? Why, a bigass bottle of Veuve Clicquot Champagne, of course. After pouring the ladies each a glass, we continued getting our fancy on, departing the base in an eight passenger van (which was aptly named the Vomit Comet. I don’t know who could have bestowed such a name on it). Super baller. So we ate at Ban Thai, my last dinner out on the island before heading to the hotel party. The party itself was full of well-dressed ladies, which made me really happy that somewhere, sometime people get fancy. Really, it can be related to a party rocker prom with booze. In keeping with the circus theme, there were open bar little tents set up with different libations, a dance floor in the middle, and couches to lounge on. Wrecker and I, who are always joined at the hip when we go out, pinged back and forth all over the place, managing a couple Fireball shots before they were completely out. The guys were running to catch up with us; they said they just looked for the super tall hair to track us down. They also were running super stealthy creeper interference; it was a thing of legend. It was such a good time with good drinks, dancing, music, with fireworks at midnight. Including the release of the film The Interview, it’s safe to say fireworks were the theme of the night. Helluva sendoff. Red Devils closed that place down.

GOING HOME. The morning of my departure to return to The States, Wrecker, Mike and Rustic went with me to the airport, which was so kind of them since we had to leave the house at 0500. Mike was a total gentleman & hefted all my bags for me (they each weighed more than fifty pounds. Think I need to pack lighter next time) into the Vomit Comet. Rustic kept her music going because it’s always the best. I hugged everyone goodbye, which just about the worst thing ever. I just pushed it out of my mind and got through the airport schlock as soon as I could. It was my first time flying in first class; I upgraded my ticket because I actually saved a lot of money while on Guam. The Japanese businessman sitting next to me was also getting hammered at 0830, so my rife and unabashed alcoholism was swept under the rug. I felt so out of place at first, being that I didn’t even know how the seats worked! They’re super complicated for someone who’s kind of a bubblehead like me. Go figure, I can use an ejection seat and parachute, but this shit perplexes me. So I was totally creepin’ on Japanesey dude, to see how he did his seat, then I did mine. Demo/Do. The flights were nice, and I was able to chat with friends online the whole time, when I wasn’t passed out on Ambient. They were so good to keep me company when I needed a friend most.

It’s been kind of a difficult transition for me back here, honestly. It’s been raining almost constantly since I arrived, and the highs are about 38F. The time change has been brutal (Guam’s time zone is 16 hours ahead). I still have been only sleeping 4 hours a night (Guam party standard). I’m trying to stay busy at home, working out and eating right. And by eating right, I mean forgetting to eat. I miss all my friends so much; it’s really hard. It’s super difficult to go from having good conversations, scuba diving, flying exciting missions all over the world, partying constantly at your house & at the Guam clubs with your best friends, talking about everything and anything all the time, shopping, beautiful beach-going in Tumon every weekend… I told everyone to enjoy their last couple months there. Since this was my last deployment, ever, I spent the last day at the beach with everyone I care about most.

TMI. Last week, I went to drop off my medical records at the Flight Medicine clinic, and they had an appointment available for a ladies’ annual ob/gyn checkup. So, I go into the exam room in flight med, and the 20th Bomb Squadron’s Flight Doc talks to me about my request for a Nexplanon implant birth control startup, suuuuper awkwardly. The guy’s the same age as me, for reference, sporting a flight suit. Both Captains. Okay, so after this excruciatingly odd conversation about my sexual health and the obligatory question, “Do you feel safe at home?”… He does the breast exam and the lady parts exam. Side story: Every damn time I get this done, there’s always an entourage of trainees in the room. I had FIVE extra people in the room once, taking notes. Baller lady parts, for real.

During the whole thing, especially the exam, he seemed super nervous (should have maybe bought him a drink first?). Turns out afterwards, he said they typically send us flyer ladies up to the Women’s Clinic, and asked why I requested to stay in Flight Medicine for it, instead of seeing a specialist. I hadn’t been told about the choice when I checked in at the front desk. The Flight Doc, surprised, said it was “Good to do one of these once in a while.” (For training). Lucky SOB. Got a good one to re-hack on. So, yeah, it was a day of firsts. Not that I care that much, but first male doctor for this type of exam (and he was kinda cute too, damn) and first time a general Flight Doc did a women’s exam for me. So awkward! But at least I get that birth control, son.

THE END. When I got back to the squadron last week, I wanted to hug everyone, including the newbs. I am so used to being around amazing people all the time that I just miss everyone, including the constant people being around my house, roosting in my living room, and the constant din of people having a good time or talking enthusiastically. But I AM happy I am back to my Steinway piano. My numba one playa. Get it? Play… Yep. For you Oglaf fans, BEST AT PUNS!

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