Well then, hey.

So, I haven't blogged since I was a teenager. I found it somewhat annoying, honestly, and didn't like the idea of anyone and everyone knowing what I was doing and thinking. However, I bravely decided to face my fears of exposure and do it again. In other words, it's a requirement for one of my college courses- I wouldn't be bothered to do it otherwise. Oh well!

I guess I can start with a little information about myself. Unnecessary exposition, here we go! My name's Mark. I was born in the totally awesome year of 1985, in the nice, warm month of July. I am 5'6" and 130 lbs soaking wet. That's right- I'm one of those lucky individuals that can eat what I want, exercise as little as once a month, and not gain a single pound. Don't you just love me now? I have brown, curly hair and blue eyes.

I goofed around in High School and ended up having to swiftly transfer to a private school in my senior year to ensure I had enough credits to graduate on time. This resulted in an unaccredited diploma, but it- along with a fairly high ASVAB score- was enough to get me into the U.S. Army. I signed up as a tanker, went to OSUT (One Station Unit Training- a tanker's version of Basic Training), went almost directly from OSUT to my first deployment in Iraq. Once our unit returned stateside to Ft. Hood, TX, this total jerk of a hurricane named "Katrina" popped up and said hello to the shores of Louisiana. Unfortunately, the Louisiana National Guard was doing that whole "war" thing back in Iraq, so my unit was deployed as one of the first units to aid in the Katrina aftermath relief efforts. It was there that I learned people suck.

Anything we did over there- despite our efforts to help people- was seen as wrong by the media. We were made out to look incompetent. Our efforts to help were publicly minimized by news stations in an effort to sell a story: "The government doesn't care". I would see corpses stacked outside a giant sports dome, and later see people stealing flat-screen televisions from the ruined homes of the deceased. These looters carried weapons. We, too, were given our rifles: With no ammunition or magazines. We were told that the way the media was treating the relief efforts, the last thing they needed in the headlines was "Soldier kills U.S. Citizen in New Orleans". Due to this, our only option for response if fired at was to duck and wait it out. Fun, huh?

After this, I was soon given a medical discharge. You could bet your bottom dollar I didn't do much to fight it. Although I felt I had been used and then thrown out by the military, I decided I didn't need them, just as they didn't need me.

The rest? To be continued!! Dun dun DUN!