So I've been deployed now again for about four months. This time, however, I've been deployed to a place where there is no drinking *gasp* allowed. Now, while my servicemember brethren might not find that surprising, I do.

Last time around I was deployed as a member of Central Command's Public Affairs Team. For the first part of my rotation I was based in Tampa, Florida. At the time there was no extra housing on base, so I lived in an extended-stay hotel. While this might sound awesome (and who am I kidding, it was), living in a hotel gets old. However, I got access to the pool, the gym, and the bar. So I had that going for me.

WOOOOOO!

Then at Camp As Sayliyah, Qatar, I had the pleasure of finishing my rotation. Camp As Sayliyah is (or at least, was) an R & R destination, so drinking was allowed - up to three drinks per night.

Here, however, we're not allowed to drink, even though we technically fall under a NATO-led force. I'm sure other people get around this by being deviant and/or not following the rules. I am forced to wait until leave, because I have always followed the rules, except of course if you ask my grade school and high school teachers, various supervisors and the police.

You see what happens when nobody gives a s*it about the rules!

But that's neither here nor there. No matter what, I have to find some way to relax after a long day of Public Affairs professionalism. That means everything from watching episodes of House to playing Solitaire to watching episodes of House. I sometimes break this routine by getting into philosophical discussions with Cleverbot.

Anyway, I was going to spend some time making jokes and then posting photos of my living quarters, but I just got an e-mail notifying me that my third letter of recommendation for my master's degree program application just came in. So I'm going to blow off the rest of this post, except for the photos/pithy comments part.

For you anxious enjoyment, you can also all look forward to a new post in two weeks - 2009: A Year in Review. I'm sure at some time I'll also post something about the nature of this deployment and what exactly I do here. Until then...

Yes, that says Time: 49. As in 49 seconds. My newest addiction has me playing solitaire so much I can beat it in less than a minute. I need a new hobby, like herding kittens.

This is where I sleep. Unless I'm putting in one of the now-infamous 40-hour days I do when I'm at the end of the Guardian-East design cycle and have to come up with awesome layout at the last minute. Those bottles are a necessary part of the thinking process.

My desk. Unfortunately I tested the limits of working from home and now only get to sit here during one-person Solitaire tournaments, House marathons and Cleverbot discussions.

Another view of the desk, and the room beyond. To the left is where one of my roommates stays. To the right is where no one stays. Legend has it that the bunkbed is haunted. Gross.

Article Keywords: Chris Erickson, satire, Camp Bondsteel, KFOR 12, The Uncouth, God I could go for a drink right now,

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