Kuwait is almost behind...

So, my sincere apologies for not getting a post up in the last two weeks. Internet access has been kinda sketchy.And no, unfortunately, I have no new writing for you to read either. To tell the truth, we haven't been doing much. a lot of sleeping and watching movies while we attempt to acclimate to the new environment. It's been consistently in the 120-130 range. Before you freak out, it's also very dry, so your body is better able to cool itself, provided you hydrate well. So all in all, not a terrible thing.

A few admin notes- if you post a comment, especially if you ask questions, subscribe via e-mail, so you know when I reply, because I'll use the comment thread. Next, since everyone else in my unit has put out their address to the public, here's mine.

Kappelman, Joshua M
103d ESC
APO AE 09391

It's an American Post Office, so standard postage should get regular letters to me.

If you're sending a care package, the Tazo Chai Tea concentrate is something that moved up very high on my list. They don't have it here. Period. All the locals drink Chai, but I can't get it. I'm sitting ina freaking STARBUCKS and I can't get a cup of CHAI. Grrr.

Also, photographs. Of you, of the Thunderstorms, of the sunset... you don't understand... there is no definition to the sky here.

You walk out of the chow hall after dinner, putting on your sunglasses not because it's bright, but because you never know when the wind will decide to gust and pick up some god-forsaken grit to put in your eyes. As you turn to start the daily trudge back to your tent, such a gust does kick up, and you instinctively clamp your mouth shut to keep sand and dust from getting into your gum. The other day, your buddy had to get a tooth fixed up after he bit down on a piece of grit just right. You feel the windburn start to set in as it just keeps blowing. The sensation takes you back to when you sat too close to the campfire as a kid and the whole night you felt like your face was stretched really tight. Then you have to inhale, just a little bit. 'Oh, great' you think. somewhere upwind they're cleaning out the port-o-johns. As you continue your journey, you turn your gaze skyward, recalling a poem you read in highschool, probably written by some dead guy, but it kinda fits. 'this is the way the world ends... not with a bang, but a whisper.' Well, the way the day ends, at least... You watch as the sun slowly fades into the perpetual haze that rides the horizon, reminding you just how much crap is getting into your lungs with every breath. Welcome home.

Okay, so maybe it's a little dramatic, but hey. Pretty accurate.

Now, I thought I'd list some things I miss.
First, is of course, people. This time difference is really rude. Being able to hear yourself think is another one. Or the ability to go somewhere by yourself and just be alone. A real chair to sit on, not just a cot, or those worn-out chairs at Starbucks that have seen hundreds of thousands of butts since they arrived. (And some of those butts were pretty heavy, they'd tell you) Being able to flush the toilet. Or not burn your tuschis off when you have take a number 2. Not having to wear this ridiculous reflector belt at night. Cooking for yourself, or at least choosing what you're going to have for dinner. A decent cigar in the woods with a friend. Oh, trees. yeah. The color green. Gatorade powder in flavors other than lemon-lime. Texting. Real yogurt. Hugs. The gorram soybean plant on the east side. Driving. My cat. (and the dogs, too. But don't tell Amber) Some rutting privacy! Not having to change your drawers in a tent with 40+ guys. Somewhere to put your stuff beyond just your duffel bag. My Chiropractor.

I'm sure there's much more, but you get the picture.

So tomorrow, we fly to Balad. Pretty excited, not going to lie. Life will be more hectic, but expect more updates as I get into a routine.

Sierra five-two out.