11 posts tagged “conscription”
End term's are finally almost over, and with that I'm almost through my first academic year and am free to spend my summer holidays as I wish and see fit.
... which means I'm still as unemployed as a motherfucker.
OK, OK - it's not like it'd be the end of the world to not get a job for the summer ( which, at this point, seems very, very unlikely), since last year's work in construction got me pretty set and secure financially, but seeing as I'm not getting any state grants nor did I have the decency and genius to apply for at least one scholarship, I'm pretty much on my own.
But at least I'll finally have some time for myself. There's been a lot of work just waiting to get done ( or even started), and I'll finally have the time to finish/start those pesky murals I've been intending to paint all along the walls for almost a year now. I also have a promise to fulfill to a friend about teaching him kung fu ( Yes, "I know kung fu.") and I'll have loads of time for self-study, which I've been just dying to do!
Alright, that also means I have a few summer exams I've intended to get through ( since I failed them the first time - Hi Mom!) and I also have a few summer lectures and courses to boot ( whoodathunk "Japanese business ethics" was something you could get extra credit for?).
... And then there's that little thing about having to sit in the woods for a few weeks again thanks to the military wanting to up my military rank ( which, ironically, is the only real job I'll be having this summer, since it pays). And in case you're wondering, No, rank doesn't get you anywhere with the ladies - not in a country with conscription, at least.
But at least I should be allowed to blow up another tank again, which is always a blast ( no pun intended)! 'sides, who wouldn't want to blow +20k of scrap metal up for shits and giggles, and getting paid for it as well???
There are, of course, other things as well that should keep me occupied on a near-daily basis, but on the other hand I don't have anything definite planned for july - so I'm thinking about travelling somewhere, y'know, adventurin'.
But for now Mother's Day ( or is it Mothers' Day? I mean, there are quite a few of them) is coming up, and I'll probably be having my hands full having to explain to my own mom why I won't be visiting then because theoretical physics is so much more fun than a fully paid restaurant dinner.
Oh well...
As ever, whenever I'd like to think that Life's starting to settle down, that I can anticipate the damn thing at least a month forward, that there shouldn't be any unexpected ... events to be ( un-)expected, Life turns into that giddy little 5-year old bastard that runs around going "WoooEEEEooooEEEooo", only to hide in an all too thick shrub, forcing me to go fetch it because it won't come out otherwise, ending up in Life kicking me so hard in the balls that I end up wheezing through my teeth while the little fuck runs of laughing.
( Could've gone with a shorter analogy, but Noooo...)
Among other things ( not going into the ramifications of the Parental Unit once again having gone on vacation, effectively leaving the house open for robbery, armed assault and/or spontaneous firestorms), today had me going "WTF mate?" way too early in the morning, when I'd finally gotten to work.
To be precise, there was a man standing at the gates there. There is generally not supposed to be a man standing there, so sleepy attention was shifted ( rather slowly, I might add) towards this manly apparition in the middle of the eeriest ( but incredibly cool-looking) fogs in a while. Turns out he was a New Guy on his first day at the site.
It also turns out that I'm now working with my former brother-in-arms from the army, one in my platoon, to be exact.
What, anti-climax don't suit you?
I was finally able to upload some pictures from a friend of mine who took a huge mass of pics all throughout the service, and while I haven't had the time to go through them all (or the vids, but some of them are quite funny, so maybe I'll upload them as well) I promise I'll post some sort of collection so I can finally get the military-monkeys off my back.
This little gem isn't actually me in person, since I'm actually the one taking the picture; it's one of the company's three snipers, all of which are in my platoon, and allthough I'm not at liberty to whack his name all over teh internets, I can at least 'fess up and tell y'all his callsign/nickname: Fabio.
Fabio's a really good sniper - we saw him make good, clean "headshots" at 1500m in seawind-conditions with a shitty ol' -85 (that's the older sniper-rifle in the army for those not in the biz). Here, however, he's not lining up a shot (allthough he should be, since an enemy-reconbike was coming down the road), but instead getting some shut-eye. This was somewhere beyond the fourth day of 2,5h of sleep per day, so it's quite understandable we weren't at "full" alert 24/7. Gotta give him credit where the credit's due, though: nicely camouflaged.
I know I should probably be talking about how great life is since this is my first day in the reserves (yes, conscription's ovah) and how I think pretty much everyone concerned in that part of my life can go swim sideways up Shit-creek, but I have more pressing issues to bleed unto yew now.
Seriously, I think I'm being followed.
And here's the dumb part: I'm being followed by a name. I know how stupid that sounds like, but hear me out: it started while I was reading Don Rosa's rendition of Scrooge McDuck's life and Scrooge was referring to himself being some kind of John Philip (de) Souza. No harm in that, the name just stuck to my head. Strike one.
A wee bit later I'm reading a webcomic around Teh Internets and I glance at the makers of the comic. One of them being Lar de Souza. I go "heh" and think it's kind of funny (not funny-hah, but funny-strange).Strike two.
The clock hits 9 o'clock, and I'm channelsurfing. I wind up looking at The 51st State, mainly because when I hit the channel showing it, Samuel L. Jackson was holding a little kid's head saying "Spit. It. Out.". Funneh.
NEXT SCENE!
The screen says Liverpool-something and I see two ugly mothers talking about how "shitty de yanks are". They keep talking and the guy's name is splashed on the screen. Name? You guessed it, it's a de Souza. Strike three and I'm out.
Ok, well, maybe not "out"; more like locked inside the bathroom waiting for some crazy Portuguese jumping through the door yelling "Aiiii mariachi!" (I know I should be expecting Mexicans, but this is what the name implies in my head).
On a completely other note, a little earlier I happened to be channelsurfing and watched about 40 or so women of different ages in their underwear on a stage battling it out for no apparent reason, all the while singing opera. It was a new rendition of Carmen. This is why I don't go to theaters anymore.
Also worth noting, just ate some blood orange-yoghurt, but I think it just tasted like regular orange-flavored yoghurt. *sigh* Promised the world, lower calories and taxes, but only forked up oranges. Oh well, dairy-companies 1, Joni 0. Back to the bathroom now!
Conscription coming to a full stop "thank-you-goodbye-keep-the-change"-wise and me on the verge of once again being a free man, I hadn't come to think about the fact that, while my last three days staring from tomorrow will mainly be about us giving back our equipment, I also have to give up my gun. Of couse, not for a moment did I expect them to let me keep it as a souvenir (although that would've been hella-cool), but still... I mean, how is poor ol' serial no. 965537 (or Mr. 37 as he's affectionately called) going to be able to take on the world without me?
More to the point: how am I going to be able to walk around town without a loaded 7.62 RK-95 TP - assault-rifle around my neck or in my hands? I don't mean that I'm some kind of gun-toting lunatic who just got a taste of the sweet life, lead'n'all, but dawg-gonnit, that rifle was the only piece of equipment in the army I actually liked, and kept liking for that fact! (even though the new gasmask does look trendy.)
It probably wasn't even nearly this hard to wean me from my mother's teat as it is to get me away from my gun. You get that, Mr. first-lieutenant, my gun! It just felt good to have that rifle with you, armed with a 30-round clip of good ol' FMJ-rounds, knowing that if anyone got to your nerves too much, it was one pull-down of the safety and another fast pull of the trigger and you didn't have to listen to him any more. It's not that I'd ever even think of doing that to anyone, don't get me wrong, but I've lived with that gun for quite a while, and it was nice to have, y'know, options...
I'm not sounding like too much of a gun-nut, am I?
No? Good. Because I haven't even started on ranting why I have to be allowed to keep my shoulder-mounted 112mm, 9,5kg, 293m/s high-explosive APILAS-rocketlauncher. I mean, that thing is 1,5kgs of pure, Munroe-effect-guaranteed fun (or highly explosive compound, but y'know, eye of the beholder, right?)!
I hope you all had an not-so-peaceful kick-off for the new year (since, well, peace is overrated anyway, right?). Took a little too much, got a little too much, found out a wee bit too much, eh? Something like that? You know what I mean...
Personally, the new year got off to quite a great start. Without going into too much detail, I will say it involved a lot off laughter, saving good friends from various misshaps (social or otherwise), blowing up a few blocks in more ways than one and some social drinking.
But let's get serious for once, folks. It's 2008, which, at least for me, promises to be a good year all-in-all. Lots of big things happening: my military career will grind to a full stop, hopefully resulting in an honorable discharge; I'm finally able to fill my vacany at the polytechnic in Helsinki, and with that comes also one of the most awaited happenstances in my life: I leave the safety of the nest and am unleashed upon the world!
... that means I get my own place.
But me moving out is still - at the very least- 6 months away from now, and me actually starting my journey to get my Master's degree a few months more from that, so perhaps I should stick to something happening more... shall we say, in the near future of things?
I only have three more days left of conscription ( which rocks my socks off!), which means I only have three more days left until I enter the reserves. More importantly, I need a job. Not only is it enough that I have to justify my existense for the next 6 months or so of waiting, but I also need to find sustenance. Of course, me living with my parents until I decide for a change of scenery (and city) fills that void quite nicely, but it doesn't answer where I'll get the moolah from for me to be able to sustain my self indefinitely. Hence, job. Job=money=easier life while studying. Easy calculation. And at least me working will distract me from solely listening to that merry elevator-music-jingle they play whenever you're put on hold.
My only question is how will I be able to stay together without falling into another (one of my surprisingly frequent, though quite light) existential crisis? Well, it remains to be seen!
After getting a good night's rest and my brain is actually starting to work, I thought I'd post a lil' something-something. Yes, the Endwar is over, I no longer wear full combat-armor 24/7, and I get to sleep more than 2,5h a night and I can finally heal all those bruises and cuts I've gathered. Oh, and that lil' bazooka-concussion I got, or at least I think I did. Life, therefore, is good. I actually kept my promise about keeping some sort of warjournal about my final experiences in the woody-wood-wood-woods, but bare with me, it'll take a few weeks until I've been able to transfer it all onto teh internets. Pics will follow as well at some point, though it'll have to wait until January, since I won't be able to get a hold of them until the 4th. Like I said, bare with me, it takes time to wrap a half year's worth of stuff together, but I'll get it done... eventually!
On another note, Facebook is driving me nutsters. By now, I suspect, everyone up to Jesus has their own Facebook-page, so I expect you all to know what I'm talking about. If you don't, go join Facebook (no actually, don't)!
It's not that Facebook is useless, it's just that it's full of those useless applications! Gawddangit, I was away for 2 weeks, and I come back to close to 50 invites to install said application that calculates how sexy my name is/what ninja I am/how many roses my rectum heart fits etc. And not only that, but JESUS PEOPLE, I didn't join Facebook to get twentyhundredfiftyeleven chainletters about some 7-year old girl with leukemia claiming that every time their message is forwarded she gets 7 cents. I'm not that gullible, and I'm definitely not that patient! I'm sorry, but I really don't care kids. And I don't care about your Hugs-war-chainletters either, I get real hugs.
But back to subject: seeing as I'll be discharged in January, posting should become more frequent as well, though time will tell if it actually will ( fret not, it will). In the mean time, as dyslexics say, have fnu!
Not trying to sound like a Tom Clancy-novel, I'd like to point out that it's finally here. Mais waht eezit? It is the culmination of my military career; the grand finale of conscription, the magnificent--... eh, feckit, it's a 12-day stint in the midst of the Finnish fauna and flora, a physical and mental test of how pissed a person can get, an almost two week long fight against an enemy nearly as non-motivated as you are. It sucks, but somebody's gotta do it.
The reason I'm even talking about this is not only because my leave ends in a matter of hours, after which I'll be cut off from civilization for quite a while (not so strange now that Nokia's Finnish, huh? Realize why we have to be #1 in cellphones, eh?), but also because after this my conscription will finally be over. Finit. Kaput. Over. Gone. Go away, no-one'll miss ya. And after this is over I can once again talk to people who actually think of me as having some self-worth (more on that in my conscription-rundown, in internets January 2008). But now I better get my mind set on sleeping in the woods for two weeks and eating things that'd make gruel seem gourmét.
But I'm in a hurry, sorry about that, one shouldn't update blogs in a hurry; they tend to become less thought out then. But I should be bringing with meself a pen and some paper, so if we're lucky you all might get some sort of on-the-spot diary about it all (as long as I won't have to edit out a whole mass of "**** this ****" from my transcripts.), but for now, adieu, see you all on the 22nd!
Wiv wuv, moi.
Hiya, beeyatches! Rant ensues.
I'm back from the woods, my 4-week Siberia-extravaganza of outings a thing of the past, a frozen memory left behind next to some pinetree... Kinda like my behind, but that's a whole 'nother story.
This last outing i had (sponsored by the very generous FDF. Wiki it if it's not obvious.) was a 4-day "WAR (= We Ain't Resting). I tell ya, four days and ~10h of sleep altogether kinda wears you down. And having to wake up in the middle of the night to go out on patrol kinda pisses you off. By the end of the second day I was just angry; by the end of the third I was on the verge of a perpendicular coma. Not much moving about in the brain-department at 2:00am, or at least nothing very logical (think Swedish Chef from The Muppets Show going "Wat de fuk? Bork bork!" over and over again and you pretty much get the idea how "out there" I was). On the other hand, having been numbed up by the lack of sleep and (oh, did I forget?) food made you forget how cold it really was.
But I'm back to civilization once more! Having gotten to eat real food (ok, it was a burger) and having gotten more sleep in one night than I had in 4 days has made me somewhat aware of my surroundings. At least now I can say I'm capable of cognitive thinking, though after two days, passing solids is still a bit of a problem...
... I know it sounds disgusting, but I haven't slept or eaten regularly in four fucking days, plus it's my blog, so Sierra Tango Foxtrot Uniform.
Ok, not much of a rant, but brain still no worky, sorry about that. Making real sentences still seems to pose a problem. Get back to you all once I've gotten some more sleep.
Contrary to popular belief, I am not always as punctual as I may make it seem. I am however smart enough not to get in trouble about stuff like that, and have once again come up with a bold statement to save me from all your collective hate and rage over my lies.
... Now let me just find the bold-option on this thing...
... found it!
HERE YE, HERE YE! I COME FORTH FROM THE FROSTED HAVENS OF THE FINNISH WOODY WOOD-WOOD-WOODS TO ONCE AGAIN BRING FORTH A NEW CLUMP OF LITERARY GOLD. TRIUMPHING OVER WOLVES, FROST, POLARBEARS AND THE DREADED SANTA CLAUS, I SPRING FORTH VICTORIOUS OVER THE ETERNAL COLD! I AM NOT DEAD.
Enough bold now, now let me just... there we go.
So let's get on with the posting. What's really happened in my life over the past two three weeks while I've been away from blogging about it? Well... Jack shit, really. I know, I know, you people can't stand it without me telling you about my fabulous life. "But Joni, you live such an eventful and adventurous life; you fight real men, shoot real rocketlaunchers and destroy real plywoodboards with them and do other manly, manly things. Are you sure there's nothing you could tell us storystarved twits of the world???"
Well, to tell you the truth, there is one teeny little thing...
I caved in... again.
I went and bought some more Ben & Jerry's. I didn't think it really could do something like this to me. Me, the manly man who breaks bones and does other manly things suddenly, while lying in my bunk thought to myself "Man, Ben & Jerry's would do just fine right no-... WTF? Did I just really think that???" So as soon as I got on leave, off I went, and surprisingly, not to hunts (though there was a ravishing blackhaired bombshell buying the same stuff, so booya, sceptics!), and came home with my (first) batch of Phish Food. Ok, fuck my statement about ice cream not being my thing, that stuff was the proverbial shit people've been talkin' about. But. I. Will. Resist. Why? Because it's not very manly to sit and chew down chocolate-fudge ice cream with little chocolate-y fishbits in it, is it?
Onward to the next topic! Everybody knows what facebook is nowadays. That wasn't a question, it was a statement. It has to be like that since both my 60-year old uncle and my senior lieutenant use it. And that's just kinda... well, freaky. Hell, even I facebook, and I don't even like the verb.
Facebook just makes me really neurotic, y'know. On one hand, it's cool and effective that friends from faraway have a "noticeboard" that I can more or less rely on to get a message through. On the other, I have loads of 'friends' who in real life I probably wouldn't even talk with past the compulsory "how-you-doing-?-(though-I-don't-really-care)". Also, I have this wildly popular "compare people"-application, which pretty much just lets people compare two randomly picked people off of their friends list over some generic topic. No harm in that, it's just that most of my facebook-friends don't even know me that well (or at all). It just feels kind of disparaging to find out that someone finds you unsexy, not very useful or thinks you'd make a bad father (that last one really ticked me off royally). But still, as long as I can stay in contact with my real, overseas friends, I guess I just have to stand other people's rank generalisations about me. Y'know, screw you, I wouldn't sleep with you either. So there.
But hey, nobody wants to end things on such a depressing note, so funny comic!
Oh and figureskating rocks, or at least women's. Hey, you women keep talking about how men are only interested in women's tennis because of the marginally small and high-flying skirts, so at the very least I'm not being stereotypical over my chauivinistic sports-choices. Plus I'd hit that.
