So, getting out of the military is ridiculously more complicated than coming in. All I remember about the joining process is signing the same contract over and over, just in different locations. I signed the same forms in the recruiting station, MEPS, and MCRD. They all said the same thing: I agree to take it in the ass for four years.
Now, as my EAS draws near, it seems there is a conspiracy to make leaving so damn meticulous that you'd almost prefer to stay in. It reminds me of the little game on the inside of soda caps. There only used to be two kinds of caps when you bought a 20oz. soda, ones that said "sorry, try again" and ones that said "free 20oz. coke." I'm looking on the inside of a soda cap now and it says "OFVL LWBJ MRM6." What the fuck is that? Am I unknowingly partaking in the NSA workload, trying to locate terrorist cells? No, it's some code you punch into a website, I guess. So now, adding to the live or die odds on a free soda, I have a chance to win fabulous shit like t-shirts and keychains.
Sometimes my mind wanders.
Getting out of the military involves classes, washing shit, getting your body evaluated, spending hours on the phone, and a serious desire to swallow pills. I was kind of harboring a dream that when I wake up on March 21st, the guys in my company would present me with balloons and an ice cream cake, with cartoon birds and squirrels singing happy songs. Sometimes life just disappoints you.

Does anyone want to run off and become pirates?

What should I be when I grow up?

Tags: too fucking scattered to think
Current Mood: confused
Current Music: Icehouse - Great Southern Land

Song Lyrics:
With you I is more richer than all the czars,
Make a wishes on a shooting stars
Then for you I will play on my cosmic keytars!

Something great I saw on tv:
I saw something great this weekend on tv and I just wanted to share/put it down somewhere so I always remember its awesomeness. Let me see if I can somehow do this great scene justice with my shitty storytelling abilities.
Setting: Department store, men’s section, not many people.
Characters: A teenage boy with mild cerebral palsy, his mother and father who are helping him put on pants and offering their opinions, and a small group of other teenage boys about 25 feet away browsing the racks.
A little explanation: the father is a chemistry teacher who was recently diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. His pension is shit, he has very little money set aside, and his son is handicapped.
Okay, so the son is checking out the fit of some pants in the mirror, his parents offering the standard comments like, “remember the pants will shrink”, “don’t skaters wear the pants with skinny legs these days”. The son, being an amazing sport, jokingly retorts, “Do I look like a skater?”
While this is going on, the biggest teenager in the group nearby grabs some pants off a nearby rack and tells his friends in a whiny voice, “Mom, can you zip my pants,” and other mocking shit. The parents and the palsy boy can easily hear these comments and the dad just stares at them in disbelief. The mom looks to the dad to do something and he mumbles, “I can’t…,” before walking off deeper into the store.
The mom turns to her son and tells him to ignore them because they’re obviously idiots. The boys continue their audible teasing and suddenly the father bursts in from the front of the store, trying to surprise them. He comes right up behind the boy doing all the teasing and jams his foot into the back of the kid's knee. The kid goes down, letting out a scream like a little bitch, but the dad’s not done. When the kid's on the ground, the dad stomps on his knee and grinds his foot a little before asking, “What’s the matter, having a little trouble with your legs?”
After a few seconds, the kid manages to get to his feet, telling the father he’s going to whip his ass. The dad doesn’t back down, and instead starts yelling for him and his “little girlfriends” to take their best fucking shot but to do it fast. A couple seconds pass and the father taunts them again. All three boys back down and make a hasty exit. Dad turns to his wife who is simply standing in shock. The son is behind his mother, a growing smile on his face.

If you’re interested seeing this scene, find the listing for a show called Breaking Bad. The premise for the show is the dad discovering he has terminal lung cancer and goes into making meth with one his former flunky students to put lots of money aside for his family. Yeah, I know, it's fucked up, but so original.


A Great Joke:
Why does aspirin work?
Because it's white.

Tags: just feeling kind of useless
Current Location: room 333
Current Music: It'll All Work Out by Tom Petty

You ever have those days where you feel like everything you want to do is pointless? Today is a day like that for me. I want to draw a bunch of crap, I want to make a boardgame, write a story, and think of a ton of songs to download, but I can't shake this crappy feeling that I'll never finish any of them. And if I will never finish any of them, then what's the point of even beginning? What would be the point of all that wasted time, just to give up later on down the road? I have a theory about this self-defeatist attitude though, and I want to bounce it off anyone who may happen to read this. This is the feeling that comes upon anybody who tries to create something. Authors call it writer's block. It's life's little way of testing how badly you want to do something. The people who end up getting published or paint that great picture are the people who plow through the dread. So, I'm going to finish my laundry, take a shower, get some food, and get my art on.
In other news, I'm going to be a dad sometime near the end of summer. Absolutely insane! I'm only freaking out because I still have three months away from my wife, during which I'll miss doctor visits and the beginning of tummy swelling. You'd think I'd be used to missing the goings on at home by now, but this is new territory. In order to keep myself up on what's going on with Lisa's tummy, I got a copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting, which seemed to be the cutest thing in the world to her. Personally, I think she finds it humorous to think of me in a store, staring at hundreds of books that don't make any sense to me, trying to pick one. It's like when I go grocery shopping by myself and I call her five times because I can't find diced tomatoes. To my credit, I can find all the other kinds of tomatoes, but the diced just fucking elude me somehow.
I'm looking forward to having a baby with my wife, but the only thing that concered me was paying for medical care. My health insurance will vanish when I get out of the military in March. I know there are a ton of programs and options, but I'm the kind of person that hates not having some kind of plan, especially for something as important as this. Then, while hanging out with a couple of my friends, Shook said something that made me feel much better. He said people in much worse situations have kids and find some way to pull it off, so I shouldn't have any problems. He's right. I'm going to keep looking into options, but not pull my hair out over it yet. In the meantime, I'm going to continue daydreaming about little Anniepants.

How much have YOU changed?

---------15 years ago------------
1.) How old were you? 13
2.) Where did you go to school? Buchser Middle School
3.) Where did you work? I fucking stole everything I wanted. Didn't need to work.
4.) Where did you live? 2510 Hayward Dr., Santa Clara, Ca.
5.) Where did you hang out? Bobby's house on Scott Blvd.
6.) Who was your best friend? Bobby Buckley
7.) Did you wear glasses? Yes, I did.
8.) What car did you drive? An 18-speed, red and black Rock Hopper mountain bike.
9.) Had you been to a real party? If I was hanging with Bobby, we were partying unlike anyone else I knew.
10.) Had you had your heart broken? Yes, by Tina Shahian, in Ms. Budisch's 8th grade history class.

--------10 years ago----------
1.) How old were you? 18
2.) Where did you go to school?: Santa Clara High School.
3.) where did you work? I had a bajillion jobs, most of which I quit after there was nothing left to steal.
4) Where did you live?: My dad's apartment on Bellamy St.
5.) Where did you hang out?: Bobby's house on Scott Blvd.
6.) Did you wear glasses?: Chuck Norris doesn't believe in Germany.
7.) Who was your best friend?: Bobby Buckley.
8.) How many tattoos did you have?: None.
9.) How many piercings did you have?: Do puncture wounds from experiments gone wrong count?
10.) What car did you drive?: 1979 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, all black, with black leather interior. I used to call it the Lead Sled.
11.) Had you been to a real party?: Yeah, I'd been to a few different kinds, but thought they were all kind of lame.
12.) Had you had your heart broken?: Like most teenagers, I had my heart torn out of my ass every couple of weeks or so.

---------5 Years ago-----------
1.) How old were you?: 23
2.) Where did you go to school? I was sporadically going to Montgomery College in Maryland before moving to Indiana.
3.) Where did you work?: I got fired from Starbucks, then worked at Borders.
4.) Where did you live?: The Compound in Gaithersburng, MD. Then, Jenny's crazy mom's old house, then the Dorchester.
5.) Where did you hang out? The compound, Lake Seneca Park, downtown D.C., Harpers Ferry, and the Dorchester.
6.) Did you wear glasses? The boogeyman checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
7.) Who was your best friend?: Lisa Bagg.
8.) How many tattoos did you have?: None.
9.) How many piercings?: None.
10.) What car did you drive?: 1995 Pontiac Grand Am, red.
11.) Had your heart broken?: Fuck yeah, but it was my own fucking fault. I still think I'm a shit for that one.
12.) Been to a real party?: All my roommates smoked massive amounts of weed and drank. Our four-bedroom townhouse was THE party place, that's why it was called the Compound. Having 30 people in that bitch was not unusual.
13.) Were you Single/Taken/Married/ Divorced? Single for some of the year, but I started dating Lisa that year.

------------2 years ago--------------
1.) How old were you?: 26
2.) Where did you go to school?: I did the opposite of school and joined the Marines.
3.) Where did you work?: Wherever my unit was sent.
4.) Where did you live?: Camp Pendleton.
5.) Where did you hang out?: My barracks room, or the barracks rooms of friends. Sometimes I'd go to the beach.
6.) Did you wear glasses?: When Chuck Norris does division, there are no remainders.
7.) Who were your best friends?: Lisa Bagg, Zack Shook and Andy Williams.
8.) How many tattoos did you have?: None.
9.) How many piercings did you have? None.
10.) What car did you drive?: LAV-25.
11.) Had your heart broken?: Nope.
12.) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced?: Murried.

-----------------Today---------------
1.) How old are you?: 28
2.) Where do you go to school?: I'm dumb. No school.
3.) Where do you work?: Still in the military.
4.) Where do you live?: Camp Pendleton.
5.) Do you wear glasses?: I'm so fucking hot, I'm like a curry.
6.) Where do you hang out?: My concrete cell.
7. Who are your best friends? Lisa Bagg.
8.) Do you talk to your old friends?: Once in a while.
9.) How many piercings do you have?: None.
10.) How many tattoos?: Just one, a cartouche of my wife's name.
11.) What kind of car do you have?: LAV-25.
12.) Has your heart been broken?: Every day that I'm not home where I belong.
13.) Are you Single/Taken/Married/Divorce?: Still murried.

Current Location: Room 333
Current Music: Cecilia

Feeling kind of isolated. Fuck, man! FUCK!
All of southern California is on fire and I couldn't get a hold of anyone. Smoke is crawling all over the base, ash keeps coming into the company office and landing on everything! The entire base was released around 9am because Marines that lived near San Diego had to evacuate their homes. People left in teams to help pack up people's houses. They began evacuating southern and eastern parts of the base about six hours ago and the division general has authorized the barracks to be used as shelters for any families that are displaced. Las Flores has yet to become a true refuge camp but you never know what the morrow will bring, right? FUCK!
Who knows how late into the morning the flames will crest over the mountains, pour into this camp and make US refugees. I've got a plastic bin full of shit, ready to carry to wherever we might have to go. Son of a bitch. I've been a refugee before, it sucked big dick.
My mom called me earlier today. I thought it was because she wanted to know if I were doing okay over here in Hell's Kitchen, but no, she wanted to tell me some random shit about the Purina representative at the Pet Club. It might sound kind of heartless, but I'm getting a little tired of being updated on every kitten that learns how to shit in the litter. Cats are supposed to shit in the litter. After thousands of years of domesticating cats, the very fucking least they could do is shit in the special sand we buy them. When my mom comes home and finds one of her cats doing fluid dynamics equations, then I'll want to hear all about it. In detail. FUCK!
Now Turkey wants to go into Iraq. They have armor and air capability on the border. Awesome. In response to this, we have a PPE inspection next week, to make sure everyone has all their body armor and helmets and fireproof shit. Wouldn't it be cool if we got called in when the shit exploded over there? Fuck yeah, it would be! Turkey doesn't have any rules of engagement, they just want blood for the 12 troops that were ambushed. It would be a weapons-free zone with us running around, not allowed to do anything. Hooray for involuntary contract extensions. Fuck, man. FUCK!!
Can't get ahold of my wife to save my dick. She's working again, or seeing friends from out of town, or going to Nevafest, so I never know when to call. Tried to call her a couple times today to let her know about the base being evacuated, but.... fuck.
I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, like, for the last few weeks. I've been tossing and waking up every hour or so. Getting a lot of headaches and my neck always fucking hurts. Am I falling apart now that I'm close to 30? Like a car fast approaching 100,000 miles? Fuck me!
Every day, I hope for something great. I want to find out there's a viral outbreak and zombies are on the loose, and it's time for humans to band together and fight. Or, I want to accidentally discover I can control fire with my mind. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and not feel like a clueless automaton. I know being in the military is about being a piece of some massive machine, but I just feel kind of on the wayside in a lot of ways. I'm fucking tired, man.
Streets Of Rage is still one of the greatest games in the world.
I just want to run into the fucking fire. Fuck it, leave me alone.

The airport used to be an enchanted place for me. It meant I was going somewhere to indulge in new scenery and faces, and then go back to my normal life which, in retrospect, has always been pretty awesome. I like the airport to begin with. It's an ADD person's dream. People don't stand still for more than a few minutes. Women are always dressed hot so they can reunite with whomever it is they're going to see. And the food courts and gift shops are like a mini Wall Street, people examining and buying shit at lightning speed.
However, over the last couple of years, the airport has lost almost all of its allure. I dread going to the airport, even if it means I'm going there to leave the base. In the back of my head, like a little nugget of dynamite, is the fact that I'll have to return to Camp Pendleton. I dare not rejoice in my temporary escape too much for fear that when my time is up, and the little nugget explodes and shouts "It's time to go back, bitch!", my soul may just implode. When I go the airport now, I think of just having to say goodbye to people and places I'd rather be.
I equate this feeling to how a dog on a leash must feel. No, a dog on a retractable leash! The dog gets clipped to the leash and heads for the door to go outside (going to the airport). The door opens and his heart is charged with the smells and sounds and textures of new freedom. He bounds for some grass, sniff sniff sniff. Runs over to some trash and pees a little. He looks around and sees a tree or a parked car and darts off thinking, "Holy shit, this is the tits!" He forgets all else until he decides to charge off and the retractable leash runs out of slack, and snap! With that violent jerk comes the reminder that he's on a leash, his expedition is temporary.
I always get a little depressed when I leave my mom's house or come back from Indiana. I'll be over it in a day or two. I just hunker down and force-march myself to the next break.
In positive news, I invested in an electric toothbrush. It came with an instruction manual and the box was covered with all sorts of seals that don't mean shit to me, so I'm pretty excited! I got some new running shoes, too. I need to run my fat ass around the hills here a little bit before I go home to see the wife. The damage from months of hot pockets and Warcraft must be undone. Must!!
My mom is doing well. Our next visit was supposed to be Thanksgiving, and I think she really appreciated the surprise. We did our usual routine of renting some movies and browsing the mall, with lots of afternoon naps (at least on her part), and playing with the 50 animals in the house. My mom managed to surprise me while I was there by letting me discover her new dog. She adopted it last week from a rescue organization. It's a little handbag dog but it's very cute. It looks like a golden retriever puppy and chews on everything.
Well, my laundry is about ready for the dryer, so I'm gonna wrap it up. Gotta be outside with my gear in about four hours. I might even sleep for a little bit.

Current Location: the gulag

All my boys came home last night, including my beloved Shookums! Already the area is chaotic and nobody seems to have much idea what's going on. Since the battalion came back in waves over two days, some people are off still and some had to come in for a halfday today. But we all go on a three-day weekend starting this friday at noon. So, the rest of this week should be fairly easy, just going into the gym in the morning to wail on my back and typing rosters and shit during the afternoon. It's a payday weekend too, which means October is already halfway over! Holy shit, it's zipping by.
Matt Reilly has a new book out called Seven Deadly Wonders. If you have balls, you need to get this book. It's Bourne Identity, Indiana Jones, and all other kinds of manly shit rolled into one. All of Reilly's books are like that. They're such manly books they need to be shaved. Reading Seven Deadly Wonders is like dunking your brain in beef jerky and ammunition.
Speaking of manly, my buddy Uggs (John Martinez), met Chuck Norris in Iraq. Apparently he was on some morale/support the troops thing, and he got to shake the hand of the Norris. Uggs said he wanted Chuck to kick him, but Chuck refused.
And speaking of Chuck Norris, did you know the best part of waking up isn't Folgers in your cup? It's realizing Chuck Norris didn't kill you in your sleep.
I've got to take my dress blues in to get prepared for the Marine Corps ball. The ball isn't for another month or more, but once the uniform shops in town get flooded, you can forget about getting your shit done on time. I'm not looking forward to all the uniform work I actually should do before I get out. I need to get chevrons on my blues, buy medals, have the medals mounted on my blues jacket, get the blood stripe on my trousers, get my fucking sword belt and mount, get a fucking sword, put chevrons on my dress A's and B's. Blah, it's gonna be so ridiculous. All in all, it'll only be about 200 bucks, minus the sword which I truly don't need, but I just don't want to haul all of that shit out into town.

Well, I've officially quit Warcraft. Officially, meaning I've sold my character to a fellow nerd. For four hundred dollars! Can you believe that shit? A huge part of me thinks I was the one ripped off, too. Irisblade was a fucking beast! A white-haired, plate-wearing icon of fear among the Horde. Before I actually gave her up, I did a /played check just for the sake of knowing, and I've spent 71 days developing her. One thousand seven hundred four consecutive hours at my keyboard! I feel like I broke up with someone, I won't lie.
However, my new freedom is great. It was my first weekend not cooped up in my room, curtains drawn, microwave constantly heating up hot pockets and Stoffer's lasagna. I find it funny that I played through the entire seven months of gorgeous weather here in southern California, and now that it's getting colder and colder, I'm itching to be out and about. I spent the greater part of the day with my roommate, Joey, just going everywhere. We started with a fabulicious lunch at Chili's, during which he had an admirable amount of beer. I left right after I finished eating though, because I wanted to hit Barnes and Noble. After about an hour, a red-faced and grinning Joey tried to sneak up on me, but he was giggling the whole time. I bought a watch. Browsed some clothes. We walked to Best Buy and I grabbed a DVD. Then we went to Applebee's and had some desserts (Joey had another beer). I read the whole way back to base, Joey passed out in his seat.
When we got back to the battalion camp, Marines and civilians were pouring out of the area. The first wave of guys coming home from the last six months in Iraq had arrived and were put on liberty for the next two days. Perry and Ramey, two buddies from the last deployment, were still on the parade deck with some family. We all hugged and shook hands and I wanted to talk more, but their families were kind of antsy to get them alone. Before I left though, Perry pulled me aside and said these words "Yeah, we gotta do the folks thing, but we'll probably wait until they're asleep and then go get beligerent." I'm so relieved he hasn't changed.
The rest of the battalion, including my most beloved Shook, comes back tomorrow, half in the morning and the rest in the afternoon. I'm excited to see the area full again, with things to do every day. The days will go by a little faster, Thanksgiving and the Marine Corps ball will come and go, and then I can go home for Christmas. I miss my wife, a lot. I miss being part of the real world. Maybe it's because the holidays are coming up. Maybe it's because I'm really tired of this shithole and this waste of life job. Maybe it's because I really, truly miss sex. I'm just anxious to do something new, something that might challenge me or make a difference. I love envisioning myself with hair and a bag of books over my shoulder. I want to spend late nights cramming French, Lisa playing footsie with me under the table. I'd like to see my father-in-law for an occasion other than Christmas dinner.
Oh my God, I just want to go HOME!!!
Five more months, baby! The final fucking countdown!!

Current Location: my cell
Current Mood: anxious
Current Music: the final countdown

The advance party from my battalion gets back around noon on Sunday. It's only about 100 guys, unfortunately none of whom I know, but our little easy world here in Las Flores is about to get shattered with the chaos of their return. Captain Tennen, a guy who takes a three-hour break everyday to go surfing, will no longer be in charge. Major Barge will be running around, and I'm not sure what he's like so I can only hope.
Of course, the people who are returning will have some disdain for those of us who stayed behind, but I'm prepared to ingore it. I'll just have to point out the fact that I've already BEEN deployed. Besides, I know for a fact our guys haven't done shit since they've been there except sweat.
I'm looking forward to some chaos around here in a small way because it will give people plenty to do. When the main body gets back in early October, there will be even more to do, which will make the time go by faster, and Christmas will get here before I know it. I just want to go home again. Only one more chunk of vacation left before this nightmare is all over and I want to do it NOW! I want to see my wife and not wear my uniform. I want to let my facial hair go for a week and gain ten pounds by way of homemade cooking. Did I mention I want to see my wife? Yeah, I miss her something awful.
Other than that, not much else is new. My attempt to quit Warcraft is going fairly well. I've been playing a bit since I got back from my mom's because I like to zone out whenever I return here from a trip. But the whole time I was with my mom, I didn't play for one second! I didn't even have that much of an urge.
Well, it's now lunch time and I'm going to wake my buddy up so we can get some chow.
By the way, Lisa, good luck with the Chantix. I'm proud that you took the plunge and wish you all kinds of luck. I'm sorry I'm not there to help you along and make 'the face' when you do have a cigarette. Seriously, well done you!!

Current Location: hell
Current Mood: blank

I love being back in San Jose, but each time I come here I get more and more lost. I'm constantly asking my mom for directions and failing to recognize where I am. I suppose I shouln't feel too badly because this is Silicon Valley and things change pretty rapidly.
Anyway, it was a great visit. My buddy Bobby is here and I spent most of yesterday running around with him in Santa Clara, a place I can still find my way around. We went to pick up an old friend of ours named Lynda and all three of us went to his dad's place. Within a couple of minutes, Bobby and I were giggling uncontrollably, just feeding off each other's bullshit. I also met Bobby's fiancee, Jennifer. She seemed very stable and confident, much different than most of the women I've seen Bobby date. I wish them well and hope they last.
My flight to San Diego is in about five hours, but I don't plan on doing much else until I have to leave for the airport. Mom fell asleep watching Jaws with me, so I took the opportunity to scribble a little. I'm sure I'll write some more tomorrow, when I wake up and find myself in the Place of Deepest Misery.
I have two facts everyone should know:
1) Pirates hate all forms of dancing except for break dancing, which even lumberjacks would agree is pretty cool.
2)Chuck Norris patrols our nations forests looking for hippies to use as his firewood.

Tags: you should google "groovy dancing girl"
Current Location: my mom's couch
Current Music: daft punk