Did I Shave My Legs For This?

Today's the day

I'm going back to work.

Part of me is looking forward to it for the same reason I'm dreading it. The New Job.

When you transfer to a new place, obviously so many things change. And when you have to show up in Dress Whites, it makes it harder to want that change. I haven't worn mine in at least three, if not four years. I know this because I took a gander at my ribbon bar. For some, stars attached equals years, and I was missing a whole lotta years, if you get my drift. So I had to make a trip to the uniform shop and fix them.

War hero I am not. All I'm missing now is a tiny silver star on that maroon ribbon (Good Conduct) that annotates that I have 16 (!!!) years of never getting caught. I forgot to get one.

Well, I'm going to finish my coffee, take a shower and put myself together. I really hate starting up a new place, especially in this uniform. I become a dirt magnet. Wish me luck!

Now Playing: KMFDM - Dirty

Woke up on the wrong side of the fence

You know it's going to be a crappy day when you walk out side and see a cut lock on the ground and your $500 bicycle is gone. *sigh*

At least whomever stole my nice new month-old bike left his crappy piece of shit in it's place.

Now Playing: Silverchair - Blind

O Rly?

Reading a lot of posts about BlogHer, and I must say although I'm a wee bit jealous that there's no possible way for me to be there, some of the stuff I've read perplexes me and disappoints me.

Yes, I can totally see the need for some sort of Grrl Power Get together, in regards to the Mommy Blogger arena (Are Mommy Bloggers still getting criticized, or is that so last season?) and maybe the previously male-dominated technical area, (Haven't we already proven that women can be the bomb there too?) but what if you blog just because? Am I irrelevant because I do it for fun? Am I worth nothing because I don't have a theme or some cause to rant over? I mean I don't particularly give a rat's ass about increasing traffic, nor do I think that my "blog content" is one of the three things it should be. I just write crap and I'm going to keep writing crap. I don't need anyone to tell me it's crap, especially a bunch of people at some conference I can't even go to.

But I wouldn't mind meeting some of the ladies that I read, not because they have some sort of impact on the blogging world, but because I have read them for over 2 years and actually give a shit about them as people.

Have I mentioned I haven't had a cigarette since Thursday? And I need coffee.

Jumping the shark

My internet has been out since my last post, surprise surprise. When I checked Bloglines, there were over 200 entries that I had to catch up to. Sorry, I've been so slackerish on making comments - by the time I finish reading all the entries, I'm plum worn out.

But I am disappointed to notice that some of my favorite blogs are "jumping the shark". Instead of personal insight on their lives, they have turned into a gossip rag, offering newsletters and pushing what can only be called a spotlight blog in order to gain more traffic.

I do not like this Sam I am. I do not like these blogs with ham.

The heat killed my Beamer

Sounds like a song title, doesn't it? I give it a 6. It has a good beat, but I'm not sure you can dance to it.

Anyway, it is 106 degrees here, and my old (1989) poor car doesn't like it. It keeps stalling on me, even if I drive hardly a mile. It's at the mechanic right now, and I feel like a traitor driving a candy apple red 2006 Nissan Tiida. It supposed to take four or five days for it to get fixed. I'm not really concerned about the cost - labor is dirt cheap here.

This pretty much was the perfect ending to crappy week I had. I got off leave last Sunday, and everything that was supposed to be done never actually got done. So I was busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. I never arrived home before 6pm all week. Even on "Friday". I stayed a hermit all weekend, at one point turning off my phone completely. I have been avoiding people like the plague. I'm afraid I'll go postal. I hope this week is better.

I think I've socialized enough now, so I'm going back to my hole.

Don't Waste Tomato Paste!

Listen up America!

We are destroying tomato paste, killing it off by the ounces, and eventually we will make the planet uninhabitable for future cans. The evidence is irrefutable and faces us at every turn, yet we choose to ignore it. Why? Is it because we don't believe it? Or is it because we feel that as individuals we cannot make a difference? If you use tomato paste, it is your problem - you cannot escape it. You can make a difference. It is primarily the actions of individuals that has caused the current situation - companies that make cans of tomato paste knowing that only a tablespoon or two will be used, while the other tablespoons left in that 6oz can never reach their full potential and are thrown in the trash because there is no good way to reseal the can. The only time one would need 6 ounces of tomato paste is if you were cooking for an army! And if you are cooking for an army, you have bigger problems to deal with than a measly tablespoon of tomato paste. But us normal consumers still have a problem. So either we should boycott tomato paste (I can hear Italian mothers wailing uncontrollably) or come up with a solution to either create a reasonable can design for unused paste, like the bread crumb container, or come up with a smaller sized can. We can do it! I have proof!

Aw! Look how cute it is! *cough cough*

Anyway, these suggestions will help you save money, as well as save the tomato paste of the future. That is not an amazing coincidence when you think about it. Conservation is about reducing consumption, and reducing consumption usually means tomato paste for everyone!

PECTINS UNITE!

***This is by no means supported by any tomatos past or present, and the author has no affiliations with any tomato parents of any tomoato paste talked about here.***

Waiting is hard

It really is. I know how it's going to be eventually, but I'm on pins and needles for how long it will be. I'm very anxious to hear something, anything. What a fucking pain.

One of my coworkers talked to the detailer who is here all week on a visit. He mentioned my current professional/personal "predicament" to him. Basically I was told to come see him, it wouldn't hurt. Yeah, like he can do anything with everything up in the air as it is. Whatever. I did put in a request to extend my EAOS (My due-date for civilian life) to my PRD (When I get the fuck up out of here) so that they match. By doing this, it will be much easier to reenlist for the remaining four years instead of reenlisting and the possibility of them telling me to fuck off to extend to 20 years. I say that because I think they would do anything in there power to fuck over someone's retirement, i.e. get out of paying them for all the years of service they've given to this canoe club.

Yeah, at the moment I'm a wee bit bitter. Why? No, it's not the result of someone pissing in my Wheaties's. On a personal level, the Navy is just getting in the way. I'm just tired. I'm not going to slack off and become a dirtbag or anything. It just might be that I've had enough. Meh.

I don't wait to alienate any readers but...

I do not "reciprolink". If you like to read my blog, that makes me happy. But I don't blog for traffic, nor do I link for traffic. When I do blog (yes, I know) I do it because I want to. So if you send me an email asking for a reciprolink and I reply with a very nice no thank you, and you resend the original email again, if you really think I'm going to link to you, you are out of your ever-loving fucking mind.

Something I should have posted here as well

I made a post in my livejournal, but I should have done it here as well. So I'm posting it now. I'm not looking for sympathy or anything, but I also don't want to censor my feelings when I post here, which I admit to doing. I apologize.

I also want to apologize for not answering any emails. I haven't been able to focus on much the past few days enough to write specifically to one person. I don't have the energy. I hope you understand the cut and paste.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My day started at 4:30am. It's 6:37pm now and I just got home.

I am one tired, sore puppy. Speaking of puppies, our CO's little one (who seems to be our mascot at the moment and brings a wee bit of morale) got a new name yesterday. He's this little furball that likes to bite. But he is going to be big!

Anyway.

I'm tired, I'm worn out, and I'm grumpy. I was busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest today. Did I mention I woke up at 4:30am? I used an exercise machine yesterday that my back wasn't used to and man am I paying the price. And I'm grumpy because I want J to be here right now. I could use a cuddle. One day. In August. I hope.

Lately there has been all this negativity around me. And my brain seems to be underwater. I can't focus on anything for too long and when people talk, it's like listening to Charlie Brown's teacher. Wah wah wah. I need a vacation. I need some peace and quiet. I need...stability. It's the only way I can explain it. How else can I describe how I've been feeling the past few days? Maybe like I'm the camera in the Blair Witch Project, or a really bad MTV video. All jiggly and chaotic and hard to understand. I can't even sit still here and focus enough to write this. I have to constantly refresh web sites on two different computers and I can't listen to a song on iTunes completely through. My brain seems to be on crack and I'm having a really hard time trying to keep up. I wish there existed a thing that could just plug into my head and record everything that goes on in there, then it would be converted into a journal entry, with editing, of course. That would be so weird. And possibly embarrassing. There are some x-rated thoughts in there, as well as a fetish for 80's music.

It's not the first time I though maybe I have adult ADD. Mind you, it comes and goes. It's pretty proportional to the amount of crap I have on my plate. Maybe I'm just so busy that I can't focus on only one thing at a time. Maybe I'm trying to do much at once, or taking on too much, like an obese person trying to put on a pair of spandex shorts. Yay! Yet another thing I get to add to the myriad mix of crap using my gray matter as a jungle gym.

Oh, in case nobody knew this already - my internet access sucks big old donkey dicks! I know that I should be happy that I have access and all that look at the positive bullshit people like to spout and I'm not in the mood for, but when it affects me being able to email J on his lunch break, then it starts to make me really cranky. FUCK BATELCO AND THEIR INTERNET MONOPOLY!

I'll take back almost every bad thing I ever said about California

At least the area I had to deal with for eight years. You know, San Diego. Barbietown. The Jock Jungle. The College Cootchieville...well, I think you get the idea.

I received a notice in the mail yesterday from the good old DM of V. The registration for my car is expired. Duh. Since October 2005. Oops. Well, not really. I left Cali back in February of last year. And I ain't been back. I drove out of that state faster than a whore giving a five dollar blowjob. Changed my insurance and my drivers license to Texas, my home state. But I couldn't change my car registration because I had accidentally packed all of my car information away and it was already headed to the Middle East. I had a Power of Attorney drawn up for the parental units since they were taking care of my car while I'm here on an island so tiny, a boat can't even sink all the way, but can still manage to kill 58 people. (Ooooo! BAD joke!) Anyway, my parents didn't register my car because Texas doesn't hound people and threaten them with freezing your bank accounts, garnishing your wages, seizing and selling your property, or filing a lien against what you already own or might own quite like California does. Actually, Texas doesn't do it at all. If you don't register your car, you can't drive it. That simple. But I got threatened. Commie bastards! At first I was pissed that I got the letter at all. But then after freaking out my mother and making her turn all shades of indignant and freaking myself out over the whole freezing account thing if I didn't pay after 10 days of receipt (I received it 6 days after the aforementioned 10) of the notice. WTF?!?! I have a $2300 rent payment every month! So today after work, I gave them a ringy dingy and I had the pleasure of sitting on hold for half an hour on a shitty internet-connected phone line to have my grevious pain eased by the nice collection lady. All she did was simply mark the car "Out of State" and closed my account. Egad! It would have been so simple had I just called them myself before I even left the country and told them it was now out of state. Why do we make things so difficult for ourselves? Okay, maybe it's just me. I procrastinated. My bad.

But if you think I'm ever going to re-register my car in California ever again, you'd be dead wrong. I'm going to use that whole military excuse for as long as I can. Or at least the next five years until I retire.

Let's get physical and dorky too

So I decided it was time to go back into the gym. Just a couple of thoughts:

- I need to eat more than a couple of BBQ Pringles all day.
- Caffeine drinks are not a substitute for water.
- Chain smoking three cigarettes is not a good idea before getting on an elliptical, where breathing is essential.
- After having said cigarettes, having a goal of an hour is not only unhealthy the first time up, but it is pure fantasy.
- I need to bring a rubber band for my hair, or quit whining when it falls into my eyes.
- A towel would be nice to dry the dripping sweat pouring down my neck. Yuck.

Also remembered the dreaded Daylight Savings Thing. They don't recognize it in this part of the world, so I only had to change two clocks - the clock on my desk that keeps up with the Home Time and the secondary time on my watch, also Home Time. I guess that means no matter where I am, I always know what time it is at home. Duh.

Finally got around to making that appointment with the doctor about my heart and thyroid issue. Negative on both. Mil Doc (my normal one was on vacation) said that even though my heart rate was up to 126 (!) he trusts the cardiologist when he says that doctors make me nervous. Funny that, seeing as I've been telling them for years, but have someone who knows the heart and they listen. Obviously I don't know my body well enough. Maybe I need to move to South Dakota and let the men up there tell me what I can and can't do with my body. Sorry. Makes me a little cranky. The thyroid issue I'm a little piqued about. Not that I want something to be wrong with me, but now I have no explanation of why I can't lose weight. So that just means that I'm going to have to nearly kill myself over the next two weeks to lose a bit of weight before the PRT. *sigh*

On the g33ky good news front - I bought a friend's XBox and games/stuff. His roommate bought a 360, and since he has one back home, he really doesn't need this one. So now I have two game consoles - the XBox, and a PS2. Am I a geek or what? I also got yet another package of crafty goodness. I started up with crossstitching again, so I have plenty of things to keep my busy.

Now I need a shower rather badly. Stinky stinky I am. I know I'm going to be hurting in the morning, but I get to do it all again starting a 5am then again at 4pm. You heard me right. Twice a day. It sucks to be on a deadline.

Oh, to have cable internet again

My internet is sucking ass right now. Some web sites are timing out, and I can't even play by beloved World of Warcraft. I got booted 5 times in a 20 minute period, twice when I was killing stuff. Luckily when I logged back in, the thing I was killing was dead and I was still standing. Wait a pain. It's also creating havoc with my email. This is not making me a very happy camper. I think I'll have to go play my PS2 instead. Grrr.

Well that was a disappointment

Okay, I went. When I got there, I was told it was an "advanced" class. So I opted to watch and go back tomorrow night. About 5 minutes into watching, I decided I wasn't going back. If it was really an advanced class then everyone's form would have been outstanding. It looked like a bunch of beginners like me. And the instructor didn't even walk around and adjust form. The form was horrible! I'm not going back. My friend V and I are going to do yoga together at her place instead. I could probably get better using the DVD I already have. Sheesh!

Because I just wolfed down my dinner in 2.4 seconds

I suck at comments. Really suck. Like better than that vacuum that can suck up bowling balls suck. So this is what I think. I think someone needs to come up with an Audible Commenter. Where as I read posts, I can speak into some sort of recording device that will transcribe onto the blog and post of choice. And there's no going back either. That's the whole point. My commenting suckiness come from my hesitation at what to type. How to word it. Is my spelling right? Does it fit the occasion? Blah blah blah.

Some examples of comments that were started, then given up on: (some are obvious for what blogs they are)

She looks great, and she's so thrifty!

Aww! I'm sorry about the jackass manager!

Hopefully he will at least father one baby before he puts in that restraining order. (I think this one is the funniest of all, not in context)

I wish I could help, but all I can offer is an ear, or at least my keyboard.

Drugs are GREAT!

Not only do I suck, but my comments do as well! Yay!

By the way, since Tangent seems to be my middle name tonight, does anyone know how to post photos using ecto? Mikey?

Someone put me out of my misery, please

Because I am sick as a dog. My maid gave me this Indian ginger coffee to drink, and it tastes like liquid black pepper. I hope it works. I have the Chief's exam bright and early tomorrow, on my day off of course. I really don't think I'll get picked up for it, but at the mo, I really don't care. I want sleep and lots of it. I don't want to have to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to take this test. I'm just a whiney little bitch, now aren't I?

Teh internets are teh sux0rs

Sure, maybe my internet at the house villa might go out for days at a time, but I will never, never, never, never complain about the speed of it compared to here at work. It must be because the IP address here shows as Pensecola, FL instead of Bahrain. Huh?

Florida, Bahrain. Florida, Bahrain.

Makes sense, yes? Of course it doesn't, but that's because it's the military honey. This means we aren't getting our internet the conventional way, we're getting it through a damned satellite with a download speed of 125 kbps! I guess it's better than the upload speed of 74 kbps. Sad indeed.

I guess the reason my panties are all twisted about this is because I can't load any blogs or any fun web sites. They keep timing out. And with five hours more of work (heh, I said work) left, 8:30 am doesn't look like it's going to be coming any time soon.