12 Hours Aloft

Thanks to an antihistamine which Brook was thoughtful enough to bring and generous enough to share, I slept through most of the flight. I got something close to eight hours of sleep, which is funny when you consider the fact that I was averaging less than five over the last week at Ft. Benning. I guess it took sitting in an elaborately upholstered seat which refused to recline all the way to really get some good sleep.

That and drugs.

We barely made it in time for the flight. Because we were flying Business Class, we got an invitation to the Oasis Lounge in JFK's Terminal 4. It seemed pretty posh: free drinks, halal-friendly buffet food, and they would make an announcement when it was time to board your flight. This made us a little nervous as were still on the open side of security, but these people are professionals, they know what they're doing.

So we got the last alcohol we were going to see for a while (red wine for me, and something really fruity for Brook... Vodka and cranberry, I think), and settled in to use the free wifi for a bit. I took that time to download a few episodes of The Office for the road and charge my iPhone off my laptop battery.

Side note: I've got two phones on me at all times (because my company refuses to pay for my iPhone) and they can both be charged from USB. My laptop has a big, honkin' battery hanging off the back which is great for charging my other devices when they're more important than my laptop.

So with a 10:00 pm (2200) flight, and the clock eeking past 9:20, the lounge staff announced Kuwait Airlines Flight 118 was boarding. Like, already boarding. And we're on the wrong side of the security checkpoint. So we grab our stuff and head downstairs and are greeted with what can only be described as Little Bangladesh in front of us in line for security. We went back to the lounge to ask if there was some sort of First Class pass-through which would allow us to bypass the cluster-f**k/soft target that was the security line, but the lady behind the desk just shrugged her shoulders and we went downstairs to wait in line. As we got closer to the front, the status of our flight on overhead screens went from "Boarding" to "Last Call" and we started to worry. Would they hold an international flight because two Americans were too dumb to watch a clock?

Luckily, we didn't have to find out. We made it through security with enough time to powerwalk our way to the gate and make it on in time for tea.

Waiting for Even More Shots

I'm sitting on a bus, in the rain, waiting for a van to take me off-post for a measles, mumps, rubella shot. I'm sure I received one as an infant, otherwise I would never have attended public school or college. I guess an air of erudition doesn't substitute for a shot record.

Today we clear medical. So far I've had my physical, vision, dental and immunization records scrutinized, I've received two of my most painful shots to date, and I've waited on this stupid BlueBird bus for two hours.

The smallpox vaccine is basically a small tattoo on my upper left arm. A very nice LPN stabbed me a few dozen times with a smallpox-infected needle. This was far from plesant and will produce a truly disgusting pustule before scarring over. All that for a disease that only exists in a few labs around the world. I guess we do that because some of those labs don't belong to us.

That plus anthrax = bad day.

All that and I was up for a 3:30 meeting this morning.

Welcome to the army lifestyle.