Yes, And Here You Are. Longest Story Ever.

I feel solicited...yes, Sixth, I feel a hint of filth overcoming my life...*gags*

You ask why the Marines or why the military in general?
Its one and the same and yet not.
And some days, I have no idea. Like last night I was phsyched! I was ready to go and wanted to run around like a crazy person except that I had to care for small children and was about to fall over from lack of sleep. Sort of...not lack of sleep really...it'll come later in the story!

Now sit back, grab some popcorn and whatnot my dear fellows because this story is a whopping big one and its not even really begun!! If you have that program that reads it out loud for you, I would advise to switch it on because I realize I have yet to give a true chronicle of my adventures leading up to the Marines and people...ITS TIME!
Plus I just love blogging *laughs* WRITING! It just makes me happy inside : )

OH! Before I forget...no...that will be in the story.
And so without freakinfurther ado! Here we go...

____________

I was fourteen years old when the first file containing my desire to join the military was filed. My dear Uncle came to visit the fall of my Freshman year in high school and he was in the Air Force. I believe by that time he had recently retired, but was still full of stories. I think he would still be in it if he hadn't gotten married - he enjoyed his time there for the most part. And I remember listening to his crazy stories about the countries he had been too and the fearful situations he had gotten himself out of and going "SWEET!!"

I was a patriotic kid (you people have no idea. I.E. When Bush won the 2004 election, my sister and I created posters which we attached to ourselves and wore the entire day that proclaimed his victory and our jubilation!), and the military was always something that struck pride in my heart. I would see people in uniform and it would just make me so proud of my country! I would see old vets saluting the flag and wish that I had earned the right to salute instead of doing the old Civy Hand-Over-Heart. But I was a kid, and there was yet time.

So during the time my Uncle was at our house, I was overcome with the sudden urge to eat yogurt in the middle of the night. Well, probably 12:30 or so. Being fourteen I couldn't drive, and my parents were ready for bed. But the Uncle was not! He said "LETS GO!" And we hopped in his car and went.

And somehow we got into the subject of the military. I have documented evidence of that evening (I was a crazy journaling fiend even then) and I told him that I would love to join! But only the Marines or the National Guard. Don't ask me why the NG, because I doubt I even knew what it was except for what my Uncle had told me. But I knew what the Marines were - the most kick butt soldiers in the world save for Special Forces.

He told me I could do it! He said it was something to be proud of! And I believe him and it stuck with me. I never forgot that conversation. Except that I did and remembered only after reading my old journals a few months ago! *laughing* And the more I read my old journals, the more I've found references to the military and most times, the Marines. They were freaking crazy! In my eyes they had no fear - they served their country and that was it. No questions asked. The End. That appealed to me for some reason and still does.

Years past and I was still on my theatre kick. I loved it, I breathed it, I lived it. Nothing else mattered more than being on that stage when those lights came up and knowing the audience was there and yet not caring one whit about it because you were about to give the performance of your life.
It didn't happen like that every time, but when it did it made all the other performances worth it.
Apparently over the years I talked about the Marines to others. My friends and siblings. My friends remember me and Allen talking about the military and how we wanted to join and thinking we were both crazy! Ha! Look at us now...WAY crazier than they thought we were!! And time passed and it always stuck with me. There were little brochure stands set up around my college with information on the Marines and I would pass them all the time and stare at them for a moment - but theatre was the goal and it takes a heck of a lot to change my mind about something.

But something changed in the fall of last year. I started to hate theatre. Not hate I suppose, but I lost the drive for it.
I have been on stage since I was four years old. Most people can't claim to have done anything for 15 years until they hit at least 35 or s0. I am 19 and I can! I have been on stage and loved it since I was 4. Burn out was bound to happen eventually (this is why I worry about child actors, but thats another story for another time).
And with burn out close at hand I began to wonder "What now??!!"
Theatre was my life and all I knew. Its still all I really know.
And the only other thing I had ever considered was the military. It appealed to everything in me that was patriotic and small town - which was most of me. Part of me said "Your out of your freakin' mind, Shell! No! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WOULD MEAN?!?!"

Well...no.

So I started to research.
The Marines.
Everyone else was pansies.
I looked them up. I wanted to know. I wrote about my desire to join and blogged it (not here), talked to a few people and the general response was "Your crazy."
And I was afraid.
That only fueled the fire.
I love conquering fear! Its one of my favorites! I love being afraid when you start and when you are done looking back and seeing that fear gone! Its like nothing else.

I poked around about it.

Then Allen joined the Navy and I just went "SUPER! What now?!?!" Because when you finally love someone, what they do jacks around with your life. I didn't feel like I could join the Marines or if I did, people would look down on me thinking that I had joined because of him, or that I had joined to spite him.
It was neither. I just wanted to do it.
He and I chatted about it and I honestly don't think he thought I would do it -that it was probly a fling or that I wouldn't mess around with our relationship that much.
How wrong he was...
He left for boot camp asking that I talk to his mother about the military before I decided to join. She had been in the Air Force.
I talked to her.
She said I could do it, but that it would probly mean the doom of mine and Allen's relationship.

And here people is where we see the crazy selfish side of Shell.

Either I didn't believe her or I was willing to take the risk.

I called the Marines.

And as I punched "Send" on my phone, my heart stopped and I just thought "What am I doing." And nearly hung up.
And when I heard a voice, my heart started again at about 150.
But it was only voicemail!!
I left them my information and hung up, thanking God that it had been that easy and a big part of me hoping that they never called me back.
Two minuets later the phone rings. I jump about a mile high and grab it with lighting quick fingers, flicking the top open to see the number I had just dialed moments before as the ID for the incoming call.
And I almost died. Right then. Death.
I almost didn't answer it. Almost let it go to voicemail.
But I looked at the slight reflection of myself on that little screen and thought "YOU ARE NOT A PANSY!! ANSWER THAT FRICKING PHONE!"
*pause*
*DEEP breath*
*wants to puke*
*MUSNT!*
"Hello?"
"Is Rachele there?"
"This is she."
"Rachele this is Staff Srgnt....."

And away the questions went. I can't remember a scarier phone conversation. We arranged to meet the next evening and I hung up, looked at myself in the mirror and said "WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!"
And I'm sure it won't be the last time.
I somehow got up the courage to tell my parents what I was doing (I had never mentioned it to them. In five years, I had never said a word to them about it) and the next day I was off to my appointment.
I wanted to throw up.
I wanted to not show up.
I wanted to call and tell him that something came up and the Marines were not for me.
I was scared. Crazy scared.
But as I looked across the street from my car into the window of that office and saw those posters on the wall telling me to have courage, I somehow found the guts to get out of the car, walk across the street and open the door.

I swear they weighted that door on purpose.

I pull at it and I can feel it isn't locked, but that sucker is stayin there!!
I yank at the door and after a tug-O-war worthy of the Olympics, I hauled that sucker open and stepped inside.
VICTORY WAS MINE!
But then the scared out of my mind-ness came back with the vengeance.
BUT! I have had practice being a tough girl. I grew up being the tough girl. I didn't have many girlfriends in high school and the couple that I did were ok with me being the biggest tomboy I could be. I just muttered "Shell, PRETEND! Its what you do."

The guy behind the desk just looks like a normal guy. He isn't 9 feet tall with arms as big around as my head, with a voice like a movie trailer announcer and eyes that never loose the Thousand Yard Stare.
He's a normal lookin' guy. With a normal voice. And normal eyes. A bit of a Southern accent. And he smiles when I walk into the office. I like when people smile. I tend to smile too much I suppose, but it always makes me happy when people smile. And I found myself smiling right back and a bit of that fear slipped away.

He stood, introduced himself and I shook his hand with a bow in my trained Martial Arts custom. After taking a seat he got right to the point "So why are you interested in the Marines?"

AWAY WE WENT!!

And when I left that office, I knew it was for me.
I wanted that they had to offer me.
And I wanted it bad.

I took my Dad down there to meet the recruiter a few days later to ask questions so he would be more ok with it, and told the Srgnt I would call after the weekend to let him know for sure if this was something I wanted to do.

I cried on the way home that night, knowing that I was going to tell him "I want to be a Marine." and that my life would never be the same. Even if I was disqualified somehow, just making that decision would change who I was and how my family saw me.
Most of all, it would change Allen and I.

*pause*
FEAR.
But it was what I was supposed to do!! So he called and I said "Sir, I want to be a Marine."

Away my life went! Talk about lifes situations changing every 3, 6, and 9 months!!
But problems ensued!!
The first time I went to MEPS (which is the processing step. You go down and have a physical check up and take the ASVAB so they can tell if you are retarded or not. Though I know some seriously stupid people who scored ridiculously high on that test), my SS# had been entered into the system wrong and I had to sit all day. You go down on a Friday, stay the night in a hotel and get up at at 0400 to go process.
So at 0530 they tell me that I'll be sitting on my butt all day because the last 4 of my SS# were somehow the last 4 of my phone number!! I laughed. A little.
I sit. I wait. I leave. I go back.
And this time, all is going smoothly. I'm truckin' along!! I score an 86 on the ASVAB (not too shabby, but not as well as I would have liked), and I'm passing everything! EVERYTHING!! But the last step is a UA for your protein levels.
Now, I was really close to weight. I'm a lot of muscle, not gonna brag or anything at all, I just have a lot. And if I would have known they could measure body fat instead of simple weight I wouldn't have worried at all. But since I thought I had to be under the number for a normal 5'2 person and I was over by two pounds, I did the ol "Starve Myself" song and dance.
If you go a week with under 600 cals a day, still working out, you are gonna have SOMETHING jacked up by 1300 on the eighth day.
My protein levels were through the roof!! They also told me being PMS was a problem too.
Whoops. Sorry. NOT THAT I CAN HELP IT!!

I was told I would have to come back.
Great. Just great.
I couldn't come back for almost a month!! But I determined to stick it out.
Allen came home for Christmas, we talked about it (I had written him while he was at boot camp telling him I was going for it and he wasn't too jolly about the whole thing...) and he wasn't ok with it but he was in that twisted way. He left to start his pre-training for the Navy SEALs and I tested for my black belt and went back down to MEPS.
Well, tried. But the second reason for my protein levels being messed up came back and we had to switch to the next week.
In between there was a pool meeting! Which is where all the Marine recruits get together and have physical tests and play football and listen to lectures and whatnot. I went.
Twenty-five men.
And myself.
Strike that, there were very few men there. Mostly just boys who wished they could do as many sit ups as I could. SUCKERS!! *ahem*...competative...sorry...
And I had a great time!
That a lie.
It wasn't that much fun. But I took the Initial Strength Test and scored well - only the run kicking my butt a bit - and played football (and sucked at it because you were disowned in my family for playing football so I never learned).
Went back down to MEPS.
But the shuttle driver was 3 hours late and by the time we got there, the Marines and Medical had left. So I wasted yet another day.
When my recruiter picked me up from the shuttle stop he looks at me and just shook his head.
"Rachele...Rachele...I...I am sorry. This has never happened. I was just talking to the Staff Srgnt and Srgnt Mitch about it. And we...we don't know! The recruiting contractor gods hate you or something, and we don't know why!!"
Next Monday.
I hope.
*starts laughing*
Every time something goes wrong I just want to do it more!!
And yet a moment later I become scared that it must be a sign that I'm not supposed to join.

WHY ME?!?!

And the biggest thing holding me back is Allen.
Holding back is a nasty way to put that. As if its the Old Ball-And-Chain situation.
Its not.
I love this guy.
And I want to be able to see him
And hello! Fraternization! Crap!!!

Anyway.
Thats a simple, very short version of the story.
Don't laugh.
I'm serious.

So! By the end of the month - if all goes as planned - I will FINALLY be sworn into the Marines.
If all goes as planned...

I love you all! Sixth, I hope you are doing better than the last time we spoke. I was in MI not too long ago! Almost Canada! Hahahaa!!

-Shell