I LEARNED'D something today!

[Ar878]

[ZOMG.SR20]

Hi guys! Just got back from EMT class. Man, some of the stuff we have to remember is a PITA.

And our professor got pwnt at the dunes. Broken clavicle, 4 broken ribs, punctured lung, broken radius, he is messed up!

EMT isn't as hard as a Medic class =P

[AZ89two4Tsx]

^ He's becoming a firefighter though.

Btw, hey guys.

[Otto.]

Hey

[Mr1der]

I have beer

[AZ89two4Tsx]

Can I have some?

[ZOMG.SR20]

^ He's becoming a firefighter though.

Btw, hey guys.

already am fire 1 and 2 was a b****

[AZ89two4Tsx]

^ O. Sorry. I though when you said "medic" you meant paramedic, not firefighter.

I'm thinking about becoming a firefighter. But I also wanted to get a degree in money/finance. Is that feasible?

[Bwana]

I have beer

X2

[ZOMG.SR20]

well you can be both a medic and FF make lots of money

becoming a Firefighter is easy but you have to now what to do and do it for the right reasons and don't become a Whacker it should be feasible

[hachiroku781]

evening people. I just watched Gridiron gang. i thought it was pretty good. Then again i like men in tight spandex.

[Marenta]

Alright, you guys said you'd help me with this paper.. so.. I'm going to post it up, feel free to give insight, or correct language or w/e..

The Rehearsal The alarm clock buzzer screamed angrily at me, it was 0330. Yawning sleepily and tossing the covers of my bed back I drag myself out of bed and head towards the bathroom. Hopping in the shower, I quickly get to work on washing up. I throw on some clothes after toweling off and pull my uniforms out of the dryer only to stuff them into my backpack. Grabbing a breakfast bar and rushing off to work because, I have a 0500 plant walkthrough to perform before my 0530 briefing and 0700 duty-section turn over. My arrival onboard the ship only makes me more aware of my surroundings, the ship is a busy place. I make my way back to my berthing and change into my uniform, grabbing my Memorandum notebook. The notebook sits in my back pocket at all times, so it has become worse for wear and hardly recognizable as a notebook, yet it is my fifth one this year. I step into the plant; a jungle of white pipes, silver valves, and gray pumps and electrical equipment, and I commence my walkthrough. I jot down all the little tidbits of information on a blank sheet of paper in my Memorandum notebook, where the writing is not neat because the lines on the paper have all been sweat away. I rush up to the flight deck where there is a double wide trailer, worn and breezy from the numerous times of assembly and disassembly, where we hold our meetings in the morning. The briefing commences, and I have little to participate with. The job is not something that involves my watchstation or my division at all, so I listen silently. Duty-section turn-over has begun, and every watchstation reports their notes for their particular watchstation and anything else that might come up. After being dismissed, I rush back down to the plant, eager to relieve the guy who has spent the last twenty-four hours awake. It is the same guy as always, Francisco, or Frankie for short. We go through the motions of turning the watch over as we have rehearsed thousands of times before, and we part ways so that I can get to work. Work is used in the loosest of terms in this situation because, work implies that there is some time in which you are not employed, in this case work is meant to be slavery. Just as I take the watchstation, a plethora of jobs come to my attention. These jobs consist of me performing some kind of duty, me watching somebody perform some kind of duty, or me watching somebody watching somebody else perform some kind of duty; so a vast majority of my day goes by. There is a chemistry issue, I perform some chemistry samples as I have rehearsed thousands of times before, and the issue is resolved. It is 2200 and I realize that I did not eat lunch or dinner; I abscond, like a stealthy thief in the night, to my office. I make myself a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich, grab a Mountain Dew, and scarf them down so quickly I don’t even remember tasting them. I rush back down to the jungle and commence the midnight chemistry that will keep me up all night long. The night wanes to the daylight, and the next duty-section is turning-over up on the flight deck. I set the next guy up for watch since he is the same guy that I relieve, every other day. Frankie comes down to the plant, we go through the watch turn-over that we have rehearsed thousands of times before, and I turn the watch back over to him. He says something to me, something that was never in the rehearsal, and something that was completely unexpected. “How’s Billy Bob?” I look at him, dumbfounded, and experience a loss of coherency worse than a slobbering drunk. How do I respond? I don’t know. “Okay, I guess.” He nods and we part ways, I leaving for my office and he leaving for his watchstander duties. There is a dosimetry read going on for this month, and I coordinate the effort, because it is my job. Hundreds of people line up at my office door, waiting impatiently and complaining, wanting to get their dosimetry read so that they can do their work. The day passes by quickly, blurrily, and we have our 2100 muster to be let go for the day. I mechanically change clothes, pack up my stuff, and leave the ship to go back home. When I get home, I grab a microwave bean and cheese burrito and scarf that down with some grape kool-aid. I take a shower, put on some sleeping clothes, and crawl into bed. I laid there, as tired and sleep-deprived as I was in my emotionally distraught state, and thought. I cried. I couldn’t stop crying, because I realized that I had become a robot. A machine; built by the Navy, tried and true by me, a mechanical husk. This robot; forged with sleepless days, long work, and little sustenance, had taken away my most precious thing. It had robbed me of my love for my son, William Robert a.k.a. Billy Bob. As I laid there on my tear-drenched pillow, my chest heaving with sobs, I vowed to right my wrongs, and fix my relationship with my son. I fell into a restless sleep of nightmares about what I had become, and then alarm clock buzzer screamed angrily at me, it was 0330.

[snwbrdr435]

Was i suppose to read that?

[PEZi]

i got lost at the shower part... my mind started wandering

[Marenta]

Only if you want to help me edit it, or change some things.. up to you.

[snwbrdr435]

Ok i'll read it

[ADDirishboy]

well you can be both a medic and FF make lots of money

becoming a Firefighter is easy but you have to now what to do and do it for the right reasons and don't become a Whacker it should be feasible

That's what I'm doing. EMT this semester, Fire 1 & 2 next semester if I can get in, then Medic after I'm EMT for at least a year. It's hard, but I love doing it. I love being out in the field when it's crazy. It's an adrenaline rush, and I get to help people who need me. It's amazing.

[IanS]

Sorry Dee, Im the last person to help you with a composition.

I do have news about my S13 though, Im still rocking the rental.

After installing all the parts they had ordered and the shoulder belt still refused to retract.

Thier technician diagnosed it as needing a seat belt control unit. They ordered the part this morning, and they are having it overnighted. As long as it is withing a few hundred miles it should be here tomorrow, or at the latest Friday. Regardless, I should have my S13 back by this weekend, with a working seatbelt.

[snwbrdr435]

Read it not bad what was the assignment?

[Marenta]

Just to write a memoir.. 750-1000 words. Has to tell a story, have vivid details, and be significant.

[snwbrdr435]

I think that works.

Ian how long have you not had your car?

[ADDirishboy]

Why is it such a pain to find a decent Miata for sale in AZ?

[IanS]

I think that works.

Ian how long have you not had your car?

Since yesterday morning.

The Galant they gave me is worthless, I want my S13 back.

[Mr1der]

what a s***ty rent a car.

I got a Mazda 6 when my civic was in the shop.

the 2.3 models aren't bad cars at all.

I might need to find a 5 speed model for a beater in the future.

[snwbrdr435]

Gayler they sent them to san fran, i bet you can find one there for a decent price.

[ADDirishboy]

It is popular among the gay community. My best friend is gay and he always mocks me for wanting a Miata and tells me I'm going to the "dark side".

It kinda bugs me how Miata is ALWAYS associated as a gay car. What's so gay about a 2 seater sports convertible that weight just over 2000 lbs and handles like a go kart?

[snwbrdr435]

I duno, i have driven one and liked it. I think it has to do with the way they were marketed/ their looks.

[ADDirishboy]

Oh well. I don't care if it's a "gay" car. I still want one

[Dattebayo]

It's snowing its a** off here.

4 inches of snow in 2 hours. Wow.

[Bwana]

It kinda bugs me how Miata is ALWAYS associated as a gay car. What's so gay about a 2 seater sports convertible that weight just over 2000 lbs and handles like a go kart?

Perception. Styling has something to do with it too.