The End Of The Journey

Battlestar Galactica (BSG) reached the end of its four season run this past weekend, and Susan and I thoroughly enjoyed the finale. We'd never seen the show prior to this year, and I was a little hesitant to get into it - though I did have a suspicion that if I watched it, I would like it. I grew up loving the original BSG (now apparently called BSG Classic), and was hopeful that the updated series would treat my childhood memories kindly.

Well, thanks to the power of DVDs and some generous friends, we watched all of the episodes we had missed, often in weekend long binges, and were 'caught up' to the final season by episode 12. This allowed us to be fully part of the community as the show ramped up to it's climactic finish.

I've read a good deal online regarding the fan community's dissatisfaction with the final episode, but, barring the incongruous MSNBC robotics montage, I was thoroughly satisfied with the finale. From a science-fiction perspective, the story did leave a little to be desired, but that wasn't the point. True, they did 'tie up' some loose ends (taking the easy way out, literally, with Starbuck) and eliminate any possibility of sequels...but, and most importantly, they also allowed us, as fans, to properly say good-bye to these friends with whom we'd traveled the stars for so long.

Through the run of the show, and without even realizing it fully until it was over, I began to think of these characters as family and friends. I'm glad that they finally were able to live their lives in peace, and in a manner that they chose, after running for so long. Thanks to the writers for giving us a touching, but not melodramatic, farewell to the crew of the Galactica and rag-tag fleet that followed them.

So say we all.

Total Collapse

Today I experienced something that has been building for some time, and I was afraid would eventually happen. I reached a point of complete emotional overload, and I had an Arabic collapse. The signs have been present for Susan and me over the past week: From Susan's need for a mental health day last week, to our second instance of skipping first hour, we felt that this was on the horizon.

It came, and when it did, it hit me full force. The overwhelming feeling of just barely keeping myself afloat amidst the insane pace of the course bore down on me and I fell apart. I found myself physically unable to read a passage during third hour today. My eyes glossed over the first paragraph, then they simply ceased to function. I had a sickening feeling in my stomach, as though the characters of the Arabic alphabet were making me ill. I later came to the point of tears while talking to Susan, going through the unhealthy "what if" cycle. What if I'd gotten out of the Army? What if I'd refused assignment to the Middle East? What if I asked to leave the FAO program and return to the Artillery?

These feelings caused further frustration when our lead teacher pulled Susan and I aside and had a talk with us, wondering where we were in the morning, and why we were in such foul, non-participatory moods during class. I was (to Susan's utter surprise) completely honest, which, in retrospect, was probably the wrong thing to do. I should have been more tactful, since my comments can be summarized as: "I lived in Korea for a really long time and wanted to learn an Asian language; your language and culture suck".

Granted, I wasn't that blunt, but you get the idea.

She attempted to encourage me, telling me that I am a great student and am learning the language to a good level of proficiency. That was very kind of her, but, as a foreigner, it's impossible for her to understand what I'm going though. Learning Arabic, in and of itself, has never been an issue for me. I enjoy the academic challenge of it, and it is pretty cool to be able to say that I speak Arabic. The tough part is what happens next: spending the next 11+ years of my life focused on and living in the Middle East, a region of the world that holds zero appeal for me.

Susan and I talked it over a lot, and I think we've made peace with what we're doing. I think that the stress of wanting to do well, knowing what I have to do in order to do well, but not having enough time to do those things finally caught up to me after nine months. I am extremely blessed to have such a great wife and partner like her to snap me out of the 'language pit' days.