EPTHowever, it deeply illustrated how I was feeling about the time of my last blog. The following 3-4 months I can say with confidence was the lowest point of my life thus far. I had just failed the DLPT, and was in a sort of shock. I half expected it, and tried to play it off with jokes and nervous laughter. It didn't dawn on me that I had royally fucked up until I saw the paper with the scores on it. It didn't even say pass or fail, it just said the scores and it hit me like a freight train.
The few classmates that passed were eccstatic. One Marine was rolling on the floor with joy, I remember. I just stared. Fast Forward a half hour of blank mindedness, I was walking back to my dorm (Which, as I stated, was the furthest walk out of any class on the installation, and was uphill to boot), and a guy came up to me to ask where his girlfriend was. She was in my class, and she had failed too. He was looking for her to offer sympathy and such. I don't remember my response, but I remember that I didn't give 2 shits about someone else failing, more that I had failed.
It was the biggest thing to fuck up on that I've ever done in my life. I had gotten into fights, and threatened suspension before, but I never felt as bad as that moment at that point in my life. I was there for a little over a year. Some people with languages that were easier (If you can call it that), had already come and gone, and there were more people flowing in every so often.
I thought back to what I did to screw this up so bad. I thought back to my infatuation with anime, torrenting it weekly and watching some of the most amusing things that isn't available on cable at the time (Notably: Gurren Lagan and School Days stood out as stuff I did watch). I thought back to WoW, and the time I had put into grinding Heroic Dungeons (at the time, it was endgame content, given my lack of a guild that gave a shit about raiding). I thought back to Magic, and attending FNM damn near every weekend. Attending States, going to prereleases, they all contributed to one thing.
I didn't fucking study enough.
At about the halfway point of the course, I realized I was slipping. I had fallen into the lower half of the class, and was struggling to keep up with the course itself. My roommate was blasting through it, and it seemed like he was having no real issues. I started to like the idea of speaking Russian, and was putting forth more effort to keep up with the course. I had accelerated to about the middle of the class. Not quite holding my own, but able to at least get down the general rules and recognize oddities in grammar (which, if you don't speak Russian, is silly complicated).
However, it wasn't enough.
I retired back to my room, and remembered to set the alarm clock to head to some briefing in the morning. I looked briefly at the multiludes of draft decks I had made, at the silly amount of money I had spent on Magic, thinking back to the amount of time I spent keeping up with a metagame that I couldn't hold a candle to anyways. I wanted to cry but couldn't. I was alone in that room, at the time, my roommate had just moved out. I drifted to sleep over several hours.
The next morning, we reportedWe were told our graduation ceremony would be at the end of the week. Get our blues ready and all that fun stuff. Graduation practice would be the day before. I expected it was gonna be a dog and pony show, and I wasn't disappointed.
We were all filed into some auditorium type thing they called the "Tin Barn". Multiple classes from different languages were graduating at the same time, so it was getting full. I remember hearing some of the students talking about their pass rates. And it was damn low. 50% was pretty high for us.
The ceremony started and it droned on with speeches from people that were important, or something. The time eventually came to get our certificates.
"Graduating with a score of _____, Airman/Sailor/Marine/Soldier ______".
That was the general format for calling off our names.
"For finishing the course, A1C (my name here)"
My heart cringed. I hadn't even graduated. I had just finished the course. And they rubbed it in.
The ceremony ended and we were released for the day, to report to details the next day until otherwise told. I was told in high school that those kids that didn't pass high school felt a deep regret watching graduation, knowing that they fucked up.
Now I know how they felt, and I hit a record low.
I went to talk to my academic advisor soon after recieving my score to ask him about retesting possibilities. He said that just like all the other classes, retesting is only open for a certain number of spots, and that he would get back to me. OK, I can live with that. I had scored better than a few other people, I should be a shoe in.
Fast foward a week. Scrubbing toilets, sweeping floors while people walked by, running papers back and forth, it was monotonous work, but it kept my mind off things.
I was eventually approached by someone running a detail for one of our leaders. Apparently an opening in CQ had opened up for the night shift. I volunteered for it, I figured it'd be more interesting than broom duty. It was more or less being the front desk of a hotel. I was there to answer phone calls and make sure shit didn't deteriorate to utter chaos overnight. It was also my first experience working 12 hour shifts. It was harsh work for my body's internal clock, but boring.
I run into my academic advisor a couple days later and inquire further about retesting. He said he's still looking into it and ask how I'm doing. I inform him about my CQ job. He looks at me oddly and starts shuffling some papers, saying that he'll get the reclass paperwork started.
"What? But I wanna retest"
"Night CQ isn't in a schedule that is condussive for retest studying hours. Sorry."
Kick me while I'm down. No one had informed me that a CQ job disqualifies you for a retest, not that I had asked. I mean jesus, that didn't even occur to me as a possibility.
I put on my blank stare and go on.
A couple weeks later, I was told to report to some building to fill out some paperwork. It ended up being a dream sheet of shit that I would like to do. I put down some computer jobs. Something behind a desk. I've stated before that I'm not a fit person, and that hasn't changed much, despite mandatory PT. Passing a test and being fit are not the same thing.
Another month later, some various mishaps in the squadron, and getting yelled at some more, I was called back to the building, as my job decision had come in.
I wasn't worried. I had qualified to be a linguist, arguably the most difficult of intelligence fields to get into, based on scores on the ASVAB alone. I wasn't stupid, at least in the military's eyes.
"You're gonna be a 3P0X1, Security Forces".
._.
That's all I could do. He told me I would be stationed at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson, Arizona, and gave me some screen shots and more info on the base, ensuring that it was cool. That wasn't what I was worried about, asshole.
Security Forces is probably as close you're gonna get to Infantry in the Air Force. Most reclass jokes end up with "If you can't do anything else, Security Forces". It's notorious for being the bottom of the barrel type shit, if you failed anything, you'll end up there. Also if you came in Open General (Just give me any job), 90% of the time, Security Forces, due to manning. Even worse, tech school was back in Lackland, where Basic was. In my mind, I was going back to Basic. I wasn't too far off.
I couldn't even come up with a retort. Or anything. Any response from me was torn from me. I blindly took the information in, and eventually was sent to another station to fill out more paperwork.
"Do you have any questions?"
"What do I have to do when I land in San Antonio?"
"Someone should be there to assist you, don't worry about it"
That's all I really wanted to know. At this point I just wanted to get my enlistment over with, so I can figure out what I can do with the rest of my life.
A couple weeks later, I was on a plane back to Lackland. After landing, I head to the USO to get some more information, as I didn't see a damn person in uniform at all to help me out. They inform me that I'd have to find my own way to Lackland. Great. More misinformation.
A few people were in the same boat as me, but I had at least one good thing going for me.
My mom and stepdad lived in Texas at the time, and was close enough to actually drive over and pick me up. Another linguist failout (he was in Korean) tagged along as we went to get something to eat before heading out to Lackland all over again.
We get to Lackland and realize something. We have no idea where to go.
Lackland is damn huge. I read my orders over and over again (and I assume the other guy did too) to find a phone number to call or something to point us in the right direction. Nothing. So much for someone being there to assist us.
My mom and stepdad were getting impatient with driving around what essentially was a shut down base at that point. It was around 10ish on a Friday or Saturday, everyone was out or asleep. I had to do something to figure it out.
My mom stops at a building and says go ask someone. I stare at her and realize that this was gonna be bad. I was at a Basic dorm. I look over my uniform and am horrified.
I was in Blues. I didn't know what I had to wear, so Blues was a safe bet. But I had grabbed my set that I hadn't sewn my rank on. And my overcoat had JUST broken it's button, I hadn't had time to sew it back on yet. I looked just like any other 5th weeker there. Great.
I walk into the CQ area, trying my best to remember exactly what the procedures were to go in there. I get to the window, where a TI is there staring at me, the other linguist guy trailing behind me, parroting my moves.
"Is that to door you're supposed to come in, Airman?"
Shit, I didn't know, I wasn't even sure what the hell I was doing there.
"I don't know sir, I-"
"You don't know? Well let me inform you that that is the EXIT DOOR AS EVIDENT BY THE EXIT SIGN HANGING OVER THE GODDAMNED DOOR"
The trainee that was sitting there, I'm assuming as part of his detail to moniter CQ, quickly turned away to stare at some camera.
"Sir, I'm a reclass, and I have no idea where to go. I'm supposed to be Security Forces"
"Oh. Well why didn't you say so earlier? They're right across the street, the big building, you can't miss it"
Fuck me right. I scurry out of there as fast as I could before he brings up more shit to increase the tension of the situation.
I walk over to my mom's car and point her to the hotel looking building across the street. It wasn't like any sort of office building I had ever seen. At that point I remembered during Basic that there was a large construction area near my dorm with the same flag posts. I realized that this was my Basic dorm, and the construction area had finished what was a new Dormitory for tech school guys.
I wandered in there and it was chaos. People all over the place, laughing it up, surfing the web, talking about plans for the weekend. And I was in blues. I got some funny looks as I approached the CQ desk to figure out what the hell I was gonna do.
"Can I see your phase card?"
God, I hadn't had to pull that shit out in who knows how long. I show her my phase card and am treated to a funny look, while she shows the other guys there to look at it.
At about that point, some sergeant comes out and looks at us funny.
"Who're you guys?"
"We're reclasses, sir"
Apparently we were not expected until Monday. What fun. There was no prep for us at all. He found us an empty room, gave us some linen and told us where to report to on Monday. He also informed us that he was not able to give us key cards to the room we were in, didn't have authorization or some crap. So someone had to be in the room at all times, otherwise we'd lock ourselves out.
Sigh. Another chapter in my life began on that day.
