Friday, May 27, 2005

Six months...

Six months...

Six months. Six months can seem like such a short amount of time. If you have ever been in a relationship that lasted more than a year, you already know what I mean. The first six months of dating someone can seem to fly by. You fall deeply in love with someone and are head over heels for them. The first six months of a relationship is also known as the honeymoon period. Generally, in this period, you and your significant other are shagging the daylights out of one another. You hardly do anything else other than fuck. For example, my roommate is still in the honeymoon period with his lover and at this moment, he is across the apartment shagging her senseless.

Six months can pass by really quickly in other terms too. Think about the six months from say, labor day to St. Patrick's Day. If you are a student, you start back to school, have Halloween and Thanksgiving, then come Christmas and before you know it, three months of your life are gone. Compared to the summer, months, that six month period seems to fly by with all the food, candy, celebrating and family gatherings.

Six months can also be a fucking eternity (and here we get to what this post is really about). I imagine as an inmate, the last six months of ones term must drag on for what seems like forever. For a pregnant woman, I bet the last six months of carrying a baby to full term are hell.

For a sailor, six months aboard a Navy vessel must be torturous. Let's take J2 for example. J2 is just like any other red blooded male in his early twenties. Wild, crazy, and horny as hell. Now, imagine this prototypical guy stuck aboard a navy destroyer for six months at a time. Nothing but the wide open ocean and a computer screen to look at. Pretty miserable. Now, take say 300 men from the same demographic and stick them on the same ship together and you have a recipe for disaster.

I haven't gotten a complete account of the last six months of J2's life yet, but in all honesty, I'm not sure that I really want one. If I let my imagination run free, I get scary mental images that involve dropped soap, my best friend and a fellow midshipman. Not something I really want to think about.

I'll take the tails of only grilled cheese sandwiches for a week when supplies failed to arrive, or 'shower hours' when the reverse osmosis machine broke, but the rest of it, I think I'll pass on.

Well, thankfully, J2's first six months aboard the lonely ship have come and gone, he is returning home to a hero's welcome no doubt. I'm sure JYH (Mother of J2), was waving a banner with balloons as her baby boy pulled into port this morning.

On Sunday after work, I will travel across our fine state to go see my friend who is now a wartime veteran. No doubt there will be lots of drinks and many stories passed around and maybe just maybe, a welcome home tattoo will be in order.

I'm looking forward to spending Memorial Day with my friend of more than ten years, I just hope that when he gets wasted, stories of the good ol days out to sea with 'the boys' don't come up.

J2, save those for the grandchildren.

Mood: Pithy
Music: None


Anonymous J2 said...

Hey fucker there are no bad stories about cropping soap or anything like that. I told you what happened during the cruise, well most of it but nothing bad happened.

6:17 PM  

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