I've talked to people back in the rear who say that as it gets closer for us to end this and come back home, it seems that time is beginning to move at a turtles pace. And, quite frankly, perhaps it is. From my standpoint, its even slower because of the constant redundant day that has duplicated itself over a span of the last 5 months. Yet, when when something happens "outside the wire" its happens, and in large quantities. The "skirmish" that happened this past week was followed by a minor duststorm, where the air became a brown-like fog as the wind swept the sand into the air, blocking out sunlight and encompassing the area with a cold breeze that seemed to touch your very core, no matter how much winter weather gear you have on. Not as bad as other duststorms, which turn the sky red and fill your lungs with dirt and grime, making it difficult to breathe. I sometimes wonder how bad my friends over at the other camps have it with the storms, since there's really no way to tell from where I am at.
The "mooge"(spelling?) baddies aren't stupid, either. They know what goes on. No matter how well you try to plug a leak, there's just going to be another one somewhere else. But, most of you by now have heard when some of us are going to be "boots on the ground" back home. Some are sooner than others, and I may I say I envy those that go before I do. But, then again, who wouldn't? I'll be happy enough if the command remember to send the buses to pick us up. I'll go out, buy a Six-Dollar burger from Carl's Jr. (Hardees, anyways), stay up and watch the first season of Transformers, since I'll be solo for the first week or so. Real party animal, right? I'll update you guys next week.
-Chris
-For schizel. What the hell does that mean? Ya dig?
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