Sooo... been gone a while... I'm now in ROTC, school is good, the parents are still mildly unbearable, I'm tired all the time, which sucks, but Kam makes everything better. Yes, disgustingly mushy declarations aside, I'm dating a jarhead (well, former jarhead, now army, but once a jarhead always a jarhead...or something...) and he's the greatest thing since canned peaches.



Kam and me at the latest formal ROTC function. Not the greatest picture ever, but we were working with limited resources.

Our last kiss tasted like peaches. 

.......damn... 

 When things in your lives seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls.

He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.

He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous 'yes.'

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now,' said the professor as the laughter subsided, 'I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things - your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favourite passions and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.

The sand is everything else, the small stuff. 'If you put the sand into the jar first,' he continued, 'there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

'Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.'

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffeerepresented. The professor smiled. 'I'm glad you asked.

It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem,there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.'

 And three shots of whiskey on an empty stomach later I really want a cigarette...among other things.

 It's official. I am just a fuck buddy. Awesome. Thanks Brad. I just wish you'd been more clear in the first place. Would have saved me a lot of crying, I think. No, I probably would have fallen for him anyway, because I'm stupid like that. At least now I know for certain what he is all about, and I can start trying to let it go. We'll still be friends, and he'll more than likely still come up, I just hope I can get to the point where it wont matter that we're just 'friends with benefits'.

 Reaction to Snakes
• Civilian: Runs away from the snake screaming.
• Paratrooper: Lands on and kills the snake.
• Armor: runs over snake, giggles, and looks for more snakes.
• Infantry: "Look, a putty cat. Come 'ere kitty....Ouch! Hey, that's not a putty tat."
• Army Aviation: Has GPS grid to snake. Can't find snake. Back to base for crew rest and the club and some sort of drink called "The Snake."
• Ranger: Plays with the snake, then eats it.
 • 2nd Ranger: Assaults the snake's home and secures it for use by friendly snakes.
• MI: analyzes all available intelligence and national asset input on the reptilian situation; reports sighting of Godzilla to National Command Authority.
• JAG: Advises the snake on the rules of engagement and the law of war as it pertains to the snake and its defensive posture.
• Quartermaster: Captures snake and applies a National Stock Number (NSN) to it. Implements a Found On Installation (FOI) procedure and picks up snake on property book. Has company commander sign hand receipt for "Snake, Green, One Each," as non-expendable unit property.
• Chemical Corps: Starts to gas the little booger, but then realizes that there is an M-18, A-2 Respirator especially made for snakes, remembers the Chemical Corps Motto, "UTRWBAG" (Up Their Rear With Bugs and Gas), and conducts three experiments on it that have been strictly prohibited by the Clinton Treaty of 1999.
• Navy SEAL: Expends all ammunition, several grenades and calls for naval gunfire in a failed attempt to kill the snake. The snake bites the SEAL then retreats to safety.
• Artillery: Kills snake, but in the process kills several hundred civilians with a massive TOT with three FA BDEs in support. Mission is considered a success and all participants (cooks, mechanics, clerks) are awarded Silver Stars.
• Marine Recon: Follows the snake and gets lost.
• Pathfinder: Guides the snake elsewhere.
• AF Fighter Pilot: Mis-identifies the snake as a Russian HIND helicopter and engages it with missiles. Crew chief paints a snake on airplane.
• AF Pararescue: Wounds the snake in first encounter, then feverishly works to save the snake's life.
• Green Beret: Makes contact with the snake, builds rapport, wins its heart and mind, then trains it to kill other snakes.

 brad really needs to stop calling and being adorable over the phone. seriously. i mean i can blame myself for being an idiot and calling him at midnight to wish him a happy new year, but for fuck's sake, he's the one who says shit like, 'i like you, i like you a lot. i'm not gonna say i love you, but i like you,' or 'i like you, do you like me? tell me you like me i want to hear you say it,' or 'we're gonna hang out this weekend, what do you wanna do? we've already been to parties, i'm talking about a date here.' 

sonofafuckingdrunkassmonkey.

 A little boy was standing in front of a mirror in the restroom at John F. Kennedy Airport, when in walked a Marine staff sergeant, dressed in his dress blues. The little boy turned to the Marine and said, "Wow! Are you a Marine?"

The Marine replied, "Why, yes I am, young man. Would you like to wear my hat?"

"Boy, would I!," said the little boy. He took the hat and placed it on his head and turned to admire himself in the mirror.

As he was looking in the mirror, he heard the door open and through a ray of bright light, a man entered the room. But, this was not just a man -- he was more than a man. He was an Airborne Ranger.

The little boy turned and went over to the soldier. As he approached him, he could see the reflection in his boots. His eyes widened as he stared up at the soldier's chest full of medals and combat ribbons. He tried to speak, but he couldn't. Finally, he took a deep breath, and managed to say, "Excuse me, Sir. Are you an Airborne Ranger?"

The Ranger replied with a thunderous voice, "Why yes, I am!! Would you like to shine my boots?"

The little boy smiled, and said, "Oh, no sir!! I'm not a Marine. I'm just wearing his hat!" 

 i miss you.

I'm bored. I'm broke. I'm bummed because I can't really get anyone anything for Christmas this year... not to mention the fact that I can't quite get the Ranger out of my head. He disappears for a little while now and then, but he always pops back up again. Everyone's had a friend that's fooled around with a guy or a girl and after a while they come to you and say, 'you know that girl I messed around with a couple times? Dude now she's totally in love with me.' And then you cringe sympathetically , give the guy a pat on the shoulder and thank god you're not in his shoes. Yeah, well I think I'm "that girl" in this situation. Sucks. Let's just say I'll be really rather surprised if I hear from him any time soon. Eh. I guess that's one way to solve a problem. :P

i was almost raped by a us marine wednesday night. he's the best friend of one of my closest friends. we all went out drinking. he and i flirted shamelessly. i decided i should go home because i was too drunk to stick around and he came with me because 'you're too drunk to walk home by yourself.' we got back to my friend's place and within minutes i was half naked, pinned to the floor with a naked 6'3 230lb marine on top of me demanding that i suck him off. i thought he was going to force me to fuck him. i had to fight him off. i have the bruises to show for it.

i miss brad so much more than i did before. fuck.

i hate everything.

i need a vacation from life. Who's comin' with me?

Two finals down, one to go. Five hours of the quarter left. I will kill the thrice damned Philosophy final, work up a sweat at the gym and then proceed to get absolutely fucking trashed. Hoo-rah. 

By the way, Band of Brothers is absolutely the greatest mini series ever created. I love military movies. More than football movies. And that's saying something.

 I have succumbed. I have a therapist. His name is Ricardo Hidalgo and he dances in his chair. Or something. He has two pairs of spectacles that he alternates between when looking from his computer to me. No couch. No clipboard. Nice view of Lake Washington, though. "Tell me about your childhood." Apparenly I have "arbitrarily attached your self-worth to your desire for physical contact." Huh.

I am so unhappy. I need to get over this bullshit.

 you know, i think i about hit rock bottom last night. i've never felt so hopelessly miserable in my life. i mean it wasn't just about brad, although i'm sure that had a lot to do with it. i just suddenly felt totally disillusioned with everything i was doing, with school, with my stupid ass job, with the fact that i'm not really doing anything with my self or my life. i talked to my mom for a long, long time and she was totally horrified by how desperately depressed i sounded over the phone. it apparently kept her up all night. and then my dad called because she of course called him to tell him i was so upset, and i talked to him for a long time, too. i think i just needed to get whatever that was out of my system.

and i feel better today. i mean this morning was still a little rocky, but now i'm actually in a rather cheerful mood, despite the fact that i have to write a 5 page paper on the rights of children to education vs the right of parents to teach their children as they see fit (ie indoctrinating children with certain religious beliefs/cultural attitudes). yeah, it's pretty much total bullshit, but that's what i do, apparently. i'm going to come out of the UW with a double degree in bullshit and a minor in classical studies (read: ancient bullshit). so awesome. yeah i thought so, too. 

oh good, the sardonic part of my personality has come back. this is a good sign. 

yay.

 i should know by now that if i like a guy i should run the other way. i never meant for this to go so far. i thought, hey i'll never see this guy again or hear from him, so why not have a little fun? but then he had to call me, and then call me again, and then come see me again and the fakey little defenses i had blew over like the straw men that they were. i thought, well look at this, this guy actually likes me. he comes all the way up from ft lewis to see me. how can i not like him? and now i can't go three minutes without thinking about him. i just manage to ignore the fact that he's never come up specifically to see me, no matter how many times he says he will when he calls me up drunk. he might tell me how much he wants me over the phone, or when he's lying beside me, but i should know better than to let myself believe him, of all times, then. yeah, so maybe he really does like me, but then again, i can't imagine you'd keep going to sleep with a girl you didnt like at least a little bit. 

i hate that i'm such a fucking girl but i need to talk to him about this. he needs to know how hard this is for me. i need to apologize for making things so damned complicated when they could have been simple and fun. damn my feelings for getting in the way. i'll still care about him, and i'll still hope he's ok when he's off to where ever they send him, i'll still want to write to him and want to be there for him when he gets home, but what i want isnt what's important. the ball is in his court. its what he wants, what he is willing to try, that is important now. 

sometimes i really hate myself.