Sunday, December 14, 2008

Moving. . . and My Own Personal Hell.

I am not good at moving. I think part of it is that I have that inate urge to stick my roots into a place and truly grow. Whatever the case, when the Army says Go, you have to go, and when they say. Sometimes they are patient, but most of the time its a "get your shit and get out" type of deal. This time is no exception. I have no one to help me through it, so my lack of planning has ended up costing me.

First I couldn't ascertain which unit I would be going to on the Hill (Custer Hill for those that have never been to Riley) so I will have to move twice. First to Replacement then to wherever I'm going to be on the Hill. Worse still the Out processing process had me just short of furious. Nobody knows anything. Well I finally decided that I had to just get a bigger storage unit, and that would have to be that. Unfortunately the 5x10 I was supposed to have is still occupied. so I get the bigger unit, WAY bigger 15x30 or something of the like, until the 5x10 becomes available.

Problem. . . The Ford Mustang wasn't exactly designed with Cargo in mind. Enter U-haul. As if the deal with Nook and Cranny not having the right sized storage unit weren't bad enough, here is the single worst bit of "oh God not again" to hit me yet. I put in a request for a 10' truck. They only had 26' available. Way more space than I needed. It handled worse than an LMTV, and that's saying something. The steering was looser than an Amsterdam whore, and the devil of a wind was blowing. I was white knuckling it the whole way. Dear god it was scary. But I got the 10' truck rate, so no harm no foul.

Of course I left my Mustang there. I saw no point for a $30 cab ride if I was coming back the next day. But now that its not here the 'Stang is sorely missed. Well I waited till it was pretty quiet and most of the cars were gone out of the parking lot. I kind of needed to because the Uhaul van turns like an old mule. After I pulled it up into the building area (on the side walk no less) I went on for about an hour of back breaking labor trying to move all my tote boxes and foot lockers. Let me tell you something you don't think it, but DVDs are heavy! After I was satisfied that I'd gotten everything, I drove the truch back to the parking spot i had for it. Then I was just sitting around and realized I FORGOT THE DAMNED TV!!! My lower back was already screaming but I lifted it, and took it out there. Its not heavy per se, but it is awkward as hell.

For some reason I can't sleep (big shock there), But I don't want to pack any more. I know I know its absolutely freaking amazing I am procrastinating. But every time I look at my room I see one more thing I forgot to do, one more thing I need to take care of, and it kind of sucks. everywhere I look there are three things to do, and I want nothing to do with it, but, like an idiot I waited and now look where I am. Awesome, Isn't it?


I suppose if there is one bright spot I've passed the year mark, and Erika and I haven't fallen out of touch. I'm shocked. Doesn't mean I'm actually a part of her life, or that we're dating, but its a start. Actually with all the on again off again, there's so much history that every time we have a serous discussion (which she avoids like the plague) there's enough recrimination on both sides we might as well be politicians. The really funny part is that part of the problem is ironically that we are both Ex crazy. Essentially we point to each others Ex and say "see, you loved them more than you loved me". To be honest I don't think she's ever given me enough time to find out how she feels about me or vice verse. Some of that is nursing school, some of that is distance, but a lot of it, is that I get too close.


First it was Lisa, then Andrea, now Jessi. Every Ex of min in recent memory is brought up as evidence. Lisa. . . well the hurt she caused, and the residual feelings is what broke us up the first time. Andrea, well the baby scare made her a little crazy and got us together the second time, but I started going PTSD again and she left as quick as she could before I dragged her down. Now its Jessi. The fact is that I was going to buy a ring for her and all that ment that she feels that she's the rebound girl. I haven't talked about marriage this time around, and after all the shit I've been through over the years I won't for a long time, but somehow she thinks I want to marry her so I won't be alone. I don't want a hallow marriage, I don't want a trophy wife, and I damn sure don't want a phoned in family. I want the real thing not a sub.

And of course there is the ever present need to "figure things out". People have been "figuring" things out for centuries Somehow I doubt she's going to have time for proper introspection, o suddenly have a *ding* moment. And as always that little man in greens is sitting there like a dark cloud with a nice big sign that says "deployment" or "PCS". She doesn't want me to go anywhere but she doesn't want me to get closer. Honestly, this is why wars are fought. Guys get so frustrated with women that they have to beat it out of each other.

I have a feeling that this will be the second Christmas in a row that I mark with little fanfare or celebration. As desperatly as I want to rekindle the Christmas Spirit I knew in my youth, it is hard. I know no one here, and even if I did, I'd never ask to spend Christmas with someone. Its not a matter of begging, though I suppose that is an element of it. It has a lot to do with the fact that its just so damn impolite to invite yourself. I think this is yet another case of my awkward social rules getting the best of me. I know intellectually that I am *usually* welcomed wherever I go. I know that *for the most part* I am remembered fondly by all that have known me. But just because I am friendly, does not mean I have friends. It wasn't until last Christmas that I realized how alone I was. And now. . . maters are worse.

I can not thing of anything I can possibly do to get in the mood. Christmas alone is. . . well hard. The whole point of this season is to come together. To be close to the ones you love, and to spread goodwill and peace to all. Alone that is nearly impossible. Hearing the wind howl outside my window, and accosted by the harsh halogen lights, it is impossible to feel the chirstmas spirit. There is no warm glo of a fire. No fresh snow outside. No love ones to get close to, and no one to share this time with. So another Christmas in the B's.


Oh one more thing. To all you Atheists that feel the need to incite people's religious fervor. KNOCK IT OFF!!! Christmas is the most sacred of Christian holidays. As Haunika is for the Jewish people. And the message should make y'all peacenick re-re's happy. PEACE ON EARTH AND GOOD WILL TOWARDS ALL MEN. I realize some Feminazi out there will take issue with the "men" part, but REALLY?!?! You God Damn hippies say Peace for 11 months out of the year regardless if the cause is just or not. You call honest men war mongers, and the ONE TIME that most of America will actually agree with you, you act like assholes and try to completely ruin the Holiday! ENOUGH!!! We tolerate you, and accommodate you, the ACLU, the "Council of Reason", Code: Pink, Planned Parenthood, and the like. You push and you push and you push. For once please, leave this one holiday alone. Is that really too much to ask?

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Blackwater Trial: A dangerous precident

In recent news, there is a troubling trial brewing. The indictment of the 5 Blackwater Guards is another in a series of deeply troubling moves by the Criminal Justice system, and public perception of the war in general. First it was Haditha, then that recent case in LA, now Blackwater. So here's the Skinny. There were guards responding to an IED, which had hurt their fellow Blackwater Guards, in the process they entered a trafic circle.

As anyone knows, that's just about the most dangerous spot in an Iraqi city. What happens next is not exactly clear. When the dust settled 17 Iraqi Civilians were dead. The unit that responded found no evidence of enemy fire. It was apparently the subject of several investigations. To the Iraqis the case is clear. The men would have a semblance of a trial, but it is clear that if a guilty verdict and death sentence weren't handed down, the court might well be stormed by fanatics. Even though they have convicted and executed several Ba'ath party members, and people personally responsible for atrocities, I highly doubt the Iraqis would be impartial.

Sadly The Justice department in this country has become far less partial. Hidden behind a veil of laws that *technically* apply there is a clear case of lawers that are obviously anti-war trying to affect policy. Its bad enough that our own JAG is ready to jump in our asses over mistakes, now we have to worry about civilians getting up and whacking us if the military doesn't. So where does it leave us? what hope does the Blackwater crew have? I honestly don't want to think about it.

I know this much is clear, endless litigation and merciless prosecution of troops will lead to an Army, and contractors afraid to take up arms for this or any other country. The Anti-war crowd may just get their wish, an America that can't go to war. I just hope when my next tour comes around I don't run afoul of any JAG lawers trying to make a name for themselves.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Back In Kansas

Well after a day of flying I am back. . .in Kansas. . . oh freaking joy! Even before i got off the plane i felt how cold it was. Now I'm avoiding going outside at all, despite the fact that I'll need to eventually. I'll have to drive back to Riley. . .somehow. But the thought of even walking outside has me shuddering. Oh hell.


I want to do something. I got the itch, but i think I may end up not being able to do anything at all because no one is available. Dammit. Its a sad state of affairs that there isn't really anything to do. In my mind I'm still on vacation. So here I sit in MCI, up near a Burger King and a suburos, trying for the life of me to reach SOMEBODY before the battery on my Computer and my cell dies. I also REALLY don't want to get my car. Even though economy parking is cheeper than most spots, it doesn't mean cheep.

Also I am not looking froward to going back to the army as a whole. Out processing is not fun, no matter who you do it for. All the check lists, and all the forms, it's an ungodly nightmare. Plus I really have no clue how I'll get all my stuff up on the hill. Mustangs are great rides but not great for transporting stuff.

Well My battery is almost dead so I'm going to sign off and get outta here.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

The homestead

The house in Fallbrook has always been something of a disaster area. Either the weeds are too high, and the dogs get foxtails in their noses or there are no weeds, or bushes of any other kind, and there is dust everywhere. Ther seems to be no happy medium, and don't get me started on all the crap . The family as a whole has managed to acquire so much junk that it puts all my foot lockers at fort riley to shame. Sadly some of these things, physical mementos and reminders of better days have been left exposed at one time or another to the elements and been tarnished by that exposure. I always feel a little disheartened coming home. Things continue to change and the landmarks of childhood, even if they were corporate, are fast disappearing.


What scares me most of all is that this is one of the last bastions that I can return to. Pretty much the only place I've taken leave to escape to, and every day I spend here I am acausted by the frailties of my parents. Far worse was the trip up to Watsonville. My Grandpa so far gone, that he is a shadow of his former self. All the stories that could have, and should have been told, lost now to the harsh and unrelenting progress of dementia, and possibly Alzheimer. Grandma, for all her opinions is just as bad. Her repeated questions about Kosovo, and so many other extremely BASIC issues left me feeling. . . old.


My parents bicker openly before me now, especially when it comes to driving. Patrick (my Brother) has taken the same do nothing hope it will all work out track that I once took and struggle with today. His mumbling has, if anything, gotten worse, and his wild aspirations made all the more unrealistic by the fact that the one thing he is truly good at these days is playing on his Xbox. It's truly disheartening.


The dogs, are not my dogs, though they certainly welcome me. Angel (Baraka's Grandson) is like a ghost. There are times he looks so much like Baraka that its truly scary, and i forget that it isn't my dog I'm looking at. Maddie, is so obsessed by food that she spent hours pawing at a kennel that had only a few bits of kibble in it. Windy is like a stranger to me even though i helped rais her as a puppy. and Sonka? dofus in the extreme, but not my dog. It seems Fred, the only NON-Ridgeback, is the only dog I really identify with. He sits, shakes and will love you forever just for a back rub. while playful he's not clumsy, or oafish. In short everything the Ridgeback is not. But he and Angel fight, and mom has neither the time nor energy to work with them. Hense he's got to go. Such a shame. He is a good dog, and it seems he found a home he likes.


I realized durring this trip that no matter where I will stray my heart will always long for that city by the bay. San Diego, for all its faults is my home, and I miss her so. The smell of the sea, the harbor so full of sights and things to do. The fog that rolls in in the morning, and burns off to reveal clear crisp days. How could I, a wayard travler not love it for all that it is. Kuwait, that flat featurless sand pit makes me realize there are such places as hell on Earth. If that is so then San Diego must be heaven. Never too hot, never too cold. I think my greatest woe in returning home is realizing that, eventually, I must leave again. Oh to stay.