new found sobriety.... psshhhwww.

ha,
as many of you might have already guessed. my sobriety.... didn't last at all.
in other news, i've started working at rapid transit cycles, as a mechanic. its totally fun. it is AMAZING.
so, between that and grad school, i got kinda a full schedule.

new found sobriety? WHA!?

but i decided to stop drinking for a while, and tonight, i went to a bar with my roommate and his gf. and had water. i was proud of myself.
this has been coming for a while now, me being drunk every weekend, ALL weekend has been going on for far to long now, and i can't do it with the new semester approaching.
i am gonna still smoke pot however, a dude's gotta have something.
anyway, at the end of this semester, my three weeks are going to go something like this

1. moving, my lease ends the 1st of may, and i think i might want to give living by myself in pilsen another shot.
2. finals week, if its anything like finals week in fall 08. its gonna really, really suck.
3. going to london for 6 weeks over the summer for the "great cities institute" lecture and project session.

all of this is happening between the 1st of may, and the 15th, having to move on by the 1st, and getting on a transatlantic flight on the 15th.
so, i really need to be on my game, i'm not saying i'm never going to drink again. but for the moment, i think i'm pretty good just takng this day by day, and look man, its fuckin' saturday night! its almost sunday morning, i'm sober, i just had some tea, and a fried egg sandwich. and to be fair, the history channel is totaly rockin' tonight. YAY! i'm really optomistic.

(ok, to be honest, i had a few beers on New years day, but. still, haven't had anything since then!)

making out with fat girls

there's no way i can write this and sort of not sound like a misogynist.

but its so very easy.

some differences between military and civillian life

1. one doesn't have to get up every weekday at 630 and go forcibly for an hour.
2. a person has relative control over what is going to happen tomorrow
3. people in the military are ridiculously anti-intellectual. answers to questions like "why are you such a racist?" elicit answers such as "thats just how i was raised"
which is i think is a total copout
4. there aren't people trying to give you speeches that are obvious tripe, such as "you're making history." and "we're making a real difference here"
5. working 9 to 5 is the same, except it depends on the 9 and 5 in question
6. i hate scorpions, especially when covered with tiny, translucent babies, especially when just waking up. especially when you then have to shoot them, and hit the babies with a spare boot. and this is a rare occurrence around Chicago
7. i now potentially get to lord it over people that i'm a vet. (i rarely, if ever do this) indeed, i usually have to provide pictures so people don't think i'm lying
8. i can go out weekday nights and get drunk, (see No. 1)
9. i'm probably not going to made to do pushups for having copies of "the new yorker" in my barracks room.
10. killing and my emotions don't really agree

however:
1. parachuting was totally fun
2. i was really really ripped, instead of mainly scrawny these days
3. i made some great friends, and miss them all dearly.
4. i got to shoot some really fun stuff
5. i routinely blew things up that, had i not, would have blown up other people
6. travel was kickass
7. every time i wore my uniform on a plane, i was upgraded to first class.

i guess thats it, i could write more negatives. but then i'd probably think about writing more positives. so. just to give an idea

some horrible drama

this makes a wonderful story.
rest assured, it's ALL true, and also INSANE

about three weeks before the end of the semester, i had a few friends from my department over to smoke a bit of pot, and watch cartoons. (it was Sunday, adult swim is epic that day)
so, there we are, six 20-somethings, a bowl, a glowing television, decent weather outside, and good stuff on
all of a sudden there is a phone call, my friend Russell answers his phone and tells me that "Erica" (names have been changed to protect those who's lives i've already destroyed) is outside, that she heard there was a "departmental party" going on here, and so she showed up.
a note about Erica, she's late thirties, married with 2 children, and she does some glorified receptionists job in the department. i've seen her about the hallways throughout the semester, always said hello, i met her husband at a departmental function once. i ask her about her kids occasionally, she always says they're doing alright.
oh yea, she's also very very large, i mean, bordering, if not totally, MORBIDLY OBESE!
anyway, so, she comes in, things are a bit awkward, but, through the magic of soft drugs, (and cartoons) the evening progresses very well. at about 11:30 or so people begin to filter out, as we all have to be at work at 8 or 9 the next morning.
everyone except Erica,
and me, i freakin' live here. pssshhhww.
anyway, so, stoned out of my mind, i begin wondering, "what exactly is happening"
Erica answers that question by leaning in to begin making out
a proposition that i must say, i find distasteful. so, being high, and at the best of times pretty awkward, i back away, saying "oh no, no thank you."
nice.
anyway, so, one would think, being rebuffed in this manner, she would collect her things, beat a hasty retreat, and that would be that. however, Erica then asks if she can use the restroom
"sure"
i begin pacing the apartment a bit while she's in the bathroom (stoned and awkward), and about 15 minutes passes. at which point she emerges.
with no shirt on
"what are you er. doing?"
"oh, you know, nothing, just getting comfy."
"look, i'm really not down with this, please put your clothing back on and leave. i'd like to go to bed"
i thought that she would then go into the bathroom, put her shirt back on, and LEAVE! but no, she begins putting her clothes on in my hallway. and i cover my eyes with a hand, in a sort of "oh my fucking god." way.


the next week at work is fucking awkward. everytime i see Erica in the hallways i turn and flee. i'm unsure if she notices this. meanwhile, i tell EVERYONE i know about the incident. and ask advice as to what to do next.
the advice i'm given, that i end up taking, is "dude, you gotta go talk to her, and make it not awkward."
so, 8 days have passed, its monday, i nerve myself up and walk to Erica's office.
i close the door as i enter.
"look Erica, i haven't told anyone about the other sunday, and i don't plan to, i just don't want this to be awkward, we both have to work here, lets just get on with it." (that was my little, well rehearsed speech, i have no idea what happened next.)
Erica-"well, i'm not planning on telling anyone you're gay."
me-"pardon?"
Erica-"you wouldn't sleep with a older woman who was topless in your house, you're obviously gay."
me-"look, just because i didn't sleep with you, doesn't mean i'm gay. i've met your husband."
Erica- (listen to this, its the truth) "never stopped anyone before."
me-(having lost my temper) "and you're really large."
at that point things devolved rapidly into a screaming match, before she asked me quite nastily to leave her office. i must admit i meekly obeyed.

i go back to my office, and sorta mention the entire incident to my office mate, Russell.
who says "er. i've heard this isn't the first time she's done something like this."
i make an immediate decision to go and see the head of my department. our meeting goes like this
"hi sir, could ihave a moment?"
"sure, whats up?"
(i tell him the story up to that point)
"this isn't the first time this has happened with her."
so, he asks me to tell him again, i do, he writes it out, and e-mails a copy to both dean of the grad college, and HR, and says, "i'll have a word with her."

i go back to my office, and try to ignore my officemate, who repeatedly tells me she's going to get fired.

the next day i come into work. and there is Erica coming out. with one of those boxes that people use when they get fired. she shoots me a look that absolutely defies description, encompassing hate, loathing, fear, anger, a homicidal desire, um.. more along those lines.

i go into my office, and am greeted by rus: "dude, you robbed her of both her dignity and livelihood." at which point he gives me a high five.

i haven't been taking this seriously enough. (read also as: now that school is out for a few days, i can do things i'd like to)

O German mother dreaming by the fire
While you are knitting socks to send your son
His face is trodden deeper in the mud
Siegfried Sassoon
I've been thinking about this poem a bit lately, I read it in a book of WW1 firsthand accounts and pictures that my dad gave me.
I think its time for me to address some of my love of the first world war, lots of stuff has been written on it, and I remember distinctly finding a picture of my great grandfather in a box of stuff my parents had lying about. the photo says on the back "Mam's dad, 1st world war" however, i became very interested in it, and decided, when I joined the American army, to take it with me.
I was a paratrooper, actually, an "airborne combat engineer" i went through basic and advanced engineer training, and then to jump school. then i went to fort bragg. I did one jump at fort bragg, (for a grand total of 6, at that point) then deployed to SE Asia for a longish time.
i don't really want to talk about SE Asia very much, i'll save that for when we're hanging out and i'm good and drunk. needless to say, i was at war. to give you an idea of my particular job, let me say only these things: i still have, to this day, the titanium mine probe that i have actually used to find and consequently safely detonate land mines, and , my life expectency in a "pitched battle" (for example, D-day) was under half a second, the more that i think about it, it might well have been under a quarter second. Anyway, i managed to come back, and serve out my enlistment (which at that point was just over a year) at Ft. Bragg, where I ended up with something like 70 jumps.
the point is. i carried that postcard of my great gramps, as well as pictures of both my parents, in my helmet the entire time. and somehow, i got back, both limbs intact, several inches shorter (jumping will do that) and with a wealth of interesting knowledge and experiences.
so, my fascination and love of WW1 comes from my wanting somehow to reconnect with my great grandfather. i know conditions were horrible, and they weren't great in any of the theaters i went to, but. i often find myself wondering if war has changed at all in the last century. certainly aspects of it have, but, there were engineers and artillery and infantry in WW1.
so not much changed from my angle i suppose. (i guess except parachuting)

sorry, that was "came across this"

ha