SGT Quivey is back

Yes, I returned from three months of exceptionaly cold training out in sunny (hah) South Carolina. I would say it was cold, and I was bored with occasional times of high adrenaline and periods of sheer exhaustion.
I was the SAW gunner for one of our last field exercises and emerged from it (10 mile tactical march in, 10 miles out. 6 days of squad tactics/urban assault) with several stress fractures in my right femer ball joint/"hip". I should be resting it up, but I must continue to train while I'm on leave to prepare for OCS out at Benning, which is where I'm headed this coming year.
Lordy, it's 2009 already?

Anyway, I just spent a lovely day in my downtown hometown, especially at my quaint pub, "The Banshee". I forgot the camera. I'm still getting used to civilian things again, like even my cell phone! Not to mention this lap top. Hah. Well. Anyway, that's all.

Wow, what a depressing post that one below this is!? Don't you love it when you go read through old posts and think "what on earth possessed me to write that tripe?" Haha

Easy....

I finally completed realizing today that while I'm quite easy to like...

...I'm not really that easy to love.

Consider: Person J really really liked me. We flirted a lot. Then we had one of those "oh we're not flirting anymore!" times followed by the "yes darling we're going out". However she very soon dropped me for someone else, HOWEVER she never stopped really liking me and liking to hang out.
Person M - the only person so far who started out REALLY loving me, just couldn't take it any longer and broke up with me. And she's still very bitter against me, because I think she still loves the idea of loving me, but hates me for not being easy to love in reality.
And Person S just told me that this whole romantic thing isn't really working, but she really likes hanging out with me. She thinks it's her fault, but it's not....

I think I'm too laid back. I'm too respectful as well of other people, and I don't want to impose myself or push things too far. I'm funny and happy, but I have a hard time opening up and being personal. That's because when I do open up, you suddenly realize all the shit I've had to go through in my life and how deeply it's affected me. It's a burdan I'm glad to talk about, but nothing that anyone has wanted to share. I don't blame them at all for it, I wouldn't want it either (although I'm grateful for it because of all I've learned from it).

I'm a great friend. I think now I just need to learn how to be content with that.
That shouldn't take long. Once I know something about myself, I can become comfortable accepting that strength or weakness. It's the not knowing that gets to me and gets me down.
Good to know...

Such is life....

As I finally popped open a bottle of Firestone beer last night, somewhere between 10 and 11 pm, I remembered how sometimes "life" takes far too much pleasure in throwing everything at you at one time...

It started with the move - nothing unplanned, I made myself available this holiday weekend so I could help my old roommates move into their new house (and also lay claim to a corner for myself during my Davis stay). The funny part was suddenly, oh, two of them have to go to a wedding and can't be around for the unloading of the U-Haul into the new house. Fortunately the remaining roommate, Jordan, and I recruited a small squad of willing help (mostly female...) and we were able to get all the boxes and furniture into the garage and parts of the house by around 6 pm on Saturday. After a dinner, Jordan decided to spend the rest of the evening setting up his fish tanks, while I decided to spend my evening actually moving the furniture into the house and setting it in correct locations, as well as beds, and moving boxes into their correct rooms...

I guess I must have some sort of extremist idea of what "moving" involves... my roommates appear to think that the "take it slow and draw it out as long as possible" is the best method. I just want to be productive. After spending Sunday morning going insane with their inactivity, I helped two of my girls move into new appartments, and returned their U-Hauls. It was a long day, but it did culminate in a free dinner at Plutos.

Monday started with me returning to my usual PT, followed by my roommate's announcement that he wanted a fish pond just off the front porch (no, we're not done unpacking boxes yet). After watching him dig for a bit, I took pity on him and decided that if we're going to have a fish pond, we'd better have one that at least looks decent. So I dug a nice two level squared off 4'x8'x22" hole in the hard ground. This was followed by scavangeing large rocks from around town to weigh the pond liner down. In the end, it looks like a good pond.... it even has a fountain... but we're not finished unpacking.

After all of that, I decided I needed a beer. So I got in my car around 7:30 to head on down to Woodstocks for pint night. I was just getting relaxed and looking forward to a good evening as I navigated the streets in Davis... I was just turning left on a green light, when.... BAM.

Some dark blue car with no lights comes speeding out of no where and impales intself on my right front tire, which decides to go for a brand new acute angle with the ground, as well as a new profession of holding up my suspension on it's rim.... the other car lost it's bumper, but other than that, perfectly ok...

Around 8:30 the cop finally shows up to give his assessment, and the tow truck arrives to drag both cars (?). Mine is the last car on, and after an interesting drive and getting lost trying to find my street, I finally have my poor wrecked car on the driveway around 10:30.

That's when I popped open the beer and reached for my phone to call my folks... only to discover that my phone has gone MIA since the accident. Probably fell on the side of the road after the colission... geeze...

And today I have to write a paper for class...

Oh, did I mention I also ship out in 20 days?

I love life...

Fuck...

When things like this happen, I always remember that scene in Ocean's 12 where the guy looks over at his palm reader and says "THIS? You couldn't warn me about THIS?" as he's getting abducted...
I like to check my horoscope and see what "words of warning" they may have had for me, haha!
I like yesterday's: "Important messages from the depths of your subconscious have the answers you are seeking, yet they won't likely be delivered if there are too many distractions in the way."

Yeah, that distraction was a dark blue Honda Accord. I wonder if the important message was "brake, you fool!!"?

Today's is equally good: "Vacillating between fuzzy thinking and accurate analysis of the facts can be a bit exhausting, especially if you can't tell which is which." Yeah, I'm not looking forward to the accident report this afternoon. But I guess I didn't think that I wouldn't remember what the facts were?

It's a constant source of amusment, reading late horoscopes.

ah fuck it...

I really need to tell Dave to kinda lay off (literally?) of Sonia before it really gets to me... I mean, I'm not at nature a jealous man... but couldn't he just lay off for a month until I'm gone? Whatever... just had to say that somewhere...

Busy

I've spent quite a bit of time on the Army clock this last week. I'm the Davis liason recruiter, and as such, try and refer as many people as possible to my sergeant at the Woodland station (I've had about 4 referals in the last weeks). Last week I was called into Woodland to report and travel with my sergeants into the Sacramento Battalion base to reapply for my shipping orders. I spent several days, missing two days of class in the process (grrrr) because of having to wait on the staff sergeants and officers to make arrangements.
But I finally have what I was called up for! A ship date! September 24th for Ft Jackson, SC! Hooah - finally! It's maybe sooner than I hoped, but I just want to get this Change Of Station over with...

While at the Sacramento base, I spent a fair deal of time in the general lounge where all the kids who are hoping to ship off to basic sit around. Again, as always, I was struck by the fact that they are all children, between 17 and 19 years old. They are fit, to be sure, in good spirits, but so very young and inexperienced. Don't tell that to them of course - there's always enough testosterone running around in that lounge to make defensive attitudes rise quickly, although there's something about wearing a uniform in that crowd which draws instant respect, so maybe I'm lucky.
There was one guy there however - calm, about six foot something, of african american descent, and with a very mature bearing. I read his info sticker and it titled him as a US Army Active shipper - leaving that day. We sat next to each other in the outer lounge where non-military people are allowed, and his very tall and lovely wife and two small children came in to say good bye to pappa. I wondered what his story was. Everyone has a story for joining, but most of them are the same: either it's a kid who's wanted to be in the army since he or she was first able to walk, or it's a kid who's had a lot of trouble at school, is having trouble at home, and wants to get out and make a new life for him/herself. But obviously not this fellow - the only person below the rank of E-4 there who was, besides myself, over the age of 21! I didn't get to ask him why he joined, but you have to know it involved a fair amount of sheer patriotism to have left his family like that.
All I can say is I hope I have his type in my unit...

Late night forgetfulness...

drinking Old Rasputin Imperial Stout and watching scads of Cary Grant films... ahhh... The Aweful Truth, Holiday, and Talk of the Town... a great way to laugh again

Caber

She just sat there, staring at the door. Occasionally she would turn her head and look up at me, then back at the door. It was as if she knew it would be the last time she could go outside, and she wanted just one more chance to sniff around.

I left class early on Wednesday, because they said my dog's tumor was growing alarmingly fast. I probably sped a little on the drive up. She greeted me with a muffled "wuff!"; the tumor in her mouth and throat made speech really difficult for her, but she was still excited to see me.

Thursday we said goodbye - to places, to people, to things. She was still the same perky dog she ever was, I just had to stop and clean the puss coming from her mouth every ten minutes. But she was full of life, and happy to be living it. The tumor burst in a bloody mess that night, and I knew that today couldn't come too soon.

And so this morning she just sat there, staring at the vet door, as if she understood it wasn't a simple check-up or shots like normal. We brought her to this vet 11 years ago, almost exactly. She was about four pounds and the same number of weeks old - a tiny thing all covered in bulging ticks who made her weak from loss of blood. Who knew such a tired little thing would turn into a spritely and energetic puppy, and stay that way for a decade?

We had a good life. We both grew. She followed me everywhere. She missed me when I transfered. She was extatic every time I could come home. She followed me into the final room and lay down on command, her eyes a little nervous, and maybe just a little sad. I held her head and scratched her jaw. In a moment she relaxed and lay her head in my hands, her breathing slowed. I felt her pulse and knew when she was gone. I kissed her head for the last time and said thank you.

It will be a long time before I have another dog.

disturbed...

(and yes, I like that band)

I had a good time last night - I went down to Old Faithful (the Banshee) with the girl, Airman Peters. I also ran into my old friend from Butte days Brian and his girl friend Shasta, who joined us randomly for a double date.
Now here's the thing - Shasta's older sister Crystal and I had a lot of classes together and I kinda had a thing for her in a big way. I haven't seen her in a year or so, so I asked how she was doing. Apparently she's married. "Yeah", Brian said, "and apparently she was really really into you, ain't that funny?". I asked about her husband, and Shasta rolls her eyes. "He's an oaf", she said, "a complete oaf. Crystal, who graduates in Anthropology at the top of her class, marries an oaf and is destined to make babies and live in Oroville for the rest of her life".
I was just kinda stunned.
I mean, Crystal was the type of girl who was a) drop dead gorgeous, b) motivated for success, and c) smarter than ME. Oh yeah, and she had great fashion too. So here's the thing - I spent the entire trip driving back to Davis musing on her circumstance and just being completely disturbed. You know, I used to be into the whole sanctity of marriage thing back in the day, but in this case I believe the higher calling is fullfilment of self! I've half a mind to get her number, invite her out for coffee to catch up on old times, and just say "hey, I'm still very much into you - I've 40,000 a year plus living expensives and the opportunity to travel around the country, what do you say?".
Is that really so bad? Am I just being exceptionally jealous? I don't know. But I am disturbed for her. I still apparently care enough for her that I can't just seem to let this go. Isn't that aweful? When you really care about someone but missed out and can't do anything anymore but watch them fade into the mundane?
Geeze...
I'm gonna be up all night again... :-P

Two months until I ship out...

last event?

Ah, just got back from the one fabulous event we have out here in Cali. It's called "Duncan's Mills", in the North Bay area - think coastal mountains, large green trees and copious amounts of fog in the mornings, and you have it. It's also one of the few "combined" events in Cali which means there was a lot of participation. We tend to average between 800 and 1000.

Anyway it was also quite possibly my last event for the next few years, at least out here in Cali. I camped out with my hardcore friends in the 69th, a very laid back group of guys. We had great rations this week - a side of the best smoaked bacon I've ever laid a knife into at a reenactment! We also were one of the few units to break camp every formation, so we go out in full marching kit unlike most of the other farbs. I also did some drill and one battle with my other hard core friends, the Syke's Regulars. They're all embittered reenactors and it's fun to be in line with them and mock everyone around us under our breath... hahah

The battles were lame. But they always are. I tend to take a hit in the first ten minutes of battle. There was an awesome very authentic horse drawn ambulence that would trot on over, and corpsmen would come rushing out with stretchers and pile us up and into the wagon, which after a short but bumpy ride would drop us into the hospital staging area where we would moan in a blue mass for a while, succomb to various and sundry wounds, and sleep.

Reenacting is all about finding time to settle down into your pack and sleep. Hahah

The cool thing was at battalion formation on Sunday, the Adjutent in the general announcements told everyone I was was going into the service and headed off to OCS and 400+ men gave me a rousing three cheers. That was really cool, I nearly cried. A lot of those guys on battalion staff are guys I've grown up with and several of them are enlisted reservists. Funny how we've all made the same decisions...

But anyways I'm home now with the sorest neck I've ever had. Just popped two ibuprofens and I never ever take pills! That's how bad... geeze... I guess I was too sloshed each night to realize I was sleeping in a bad position...haha!

Life, Part Two

Yup.
I graduated this past Saturday.
And this past Thursday I applied for the US Army Officer Candidate School.

I guess there isn't that much to say beyond that. I think you can kinda guess what's going to happen next in my life. I'm going to spend as much time as I can this summer with the people I care a lot for, and then ship out lord knows when for training (6 months of hell - what it takes to be an Army Officer), and then lord knows where I'll be based.

Bring it on...!

Just random little updates

Well, I figure I should talk about the random little things that are going on in my life right now, so let's seeeeee....

Everyday is Christmas: Seriously, everytime the mail man comes, or UPS or Fedex or whatever postal delivery system, my roommate Dave and I flip out 'cos it means some cool and awesome thing we've ordered has come. With Dave struggling with depression and our huge Lion Claws Mil Sim coming up, we've been buying a lot of gear and materials.

One of them being a sewing machine. I'm so excited about this. I basically told the guys I've got the skills to make custom tactical gear for everyone, so everyone chipped in and we bought this beautiful beast off of ebay (I know, that's risky...). Here it is, a Singer 66 from the 1920's with a nice little moter on the back:

Like my ghetto stand for it? Hah. The only problem is, the little cog that engages the flywheel is coming undone now, even with light fabrics - so I'm spinning the wheel and the needle isn't going anywhere. It's gotten worse too, I finally had to shut down last night in the middle of a drop leg rig and call it quits. I'm taking it to be serviced today, and NOT looking forward to the bill!

But as you can see, I managed to get a prototype chest rig completed, and a couple of double mag pouches for my G36 - it's exasperating how there are no G36 compatible equipment out on the market today! The pouches are a little ghetto close up, you can definately see differences in execution between the first pouch and the second, but that's why I'm not selling anything yet ;-) Hell, at least it works!

We made sure it worked, and our other gear as well, by field testing it with a CQB game down at an old military base on the coast in Monteray: Fort Ord. The games themselves were nothing real special, and attendence was low (only about 150 people), but our gear held up and our squad tactics keep improving. So I think we're ready for Lion Claws this weekend

Just yesterday our team patches arrived - we are quite excited. With everyone graduating and moving on this year or next year, we wanted something for everyone (not just the roommates) to keep as a token of good times had. We ordered about 200 bucks worth of 'em and gave 'em to our close comrades. The lettering around the top says brothers and sisters eternally in Latin. Pretty cool. And of course down at the bottom is our house number, 1087, where most of the good times have been had.

Other than that, I've got the Lion Claws event this weekend (look it up on the 'net!), and with sewing like a fiend I've slacked off on classes. Not good considering I've only three weeks left before graduation (eeeeek!), and there's this one class I've got to pass which I'm not doing well in... gads... so we'll see.... gads....

Oh yeah, immediately following Fort Ord (as in, the next day) I went to a shoddy little reenactment with the fife and drum band. It was bloody hot, and not well attended by reenactors. One bizzare thing was the accident in the last battle where some lame-sauce cornfed cav guy got his equipment tangled up in a battle with a yanky cav guy, freaked out his horse which proceded to loose it's rider and go dancing around in the crowd. No one hurt, but man how I hate mounted cav in all of their safety issues not to mention sheer farbiness... *sigh*

Ok, my roommates are up, time for us to go running. Byes.

gotta do this survey

For the CW guys.. or I guess any period...

1st) What was your first event?
Uh, a little one down the the Napa Valley, a good ten years ago now.

2nd) What unit do you portray?
I'm a floater. I tend to go out with the people I know, and the most authentic group I can find... when they're around, I tend to go out with the 2nd US Regulars,

3rd) Do you have a First Person Impression?
Not really. Depends on what questions the public asks me.

4th) Are you a Hardcore, Mainstream, or a Farb Reenactor?
Definately hardcore...

5th) What Sutlers do you get your equipment from?
Wambaugh, Skillet Licker, Childes, etc...

6th) What type of tent do you use for events?
What's a tent?

7th) How often do you take hits?
Eh, an authentic number - Usually one, early on, and then I do a screaming wounded impression for the remainder of the battle before finally giving up the ghost, depending on where hit...

8th) If you answered yes to 7 what was the best hit you have taken?
Well I did a great shell shock impression a couple years back that still stands out in my mind - right by the public too. I had a ton of people ask if I was really ok...

9th) Do you carry your good in a cooler, or do you use your haversack?
Who uses a fucking cooler?

10th) Does the weather determine whether you go to an event or not?
Only pansys do that...

11th) Have you ever done an event in rain?
Many...

12th) What type of weapon do you use?
'47 Springfield - it's the only weapon to use ;-)

13th) Have you ever done a Living History?
I very much prefer those, there just aren't very many at all out here in Cali

14th) How many years have you been reenacting?
About 10 now... gads, no wonder I'm burnt out

15th) Did you start out reenacting as a company drummer?
THANKFULLY NO.
I carried a flag.

16th) Have you ever marched in a parade?
Dozens.

17th) Do you go into action wearing a full kit (kapsack/blanket roll, haversack, canteen, etc.)?
All the time. Who leaves kit behind to be raided by runners? The only time I don't wear marching kit is during battalion dress parade.

18th) Have you ever gone Polyester Hunting?
There's way more farb out there than just polyester...

19th) Can you sew your own garments?
Yeah, I'm pretty good with a needle and thread, and a hand crank...

1930's/Maffia Night at 1087

We had our 3rd Maffia/1930's night here at 1087. Yes, it's mostly people wearing suits and waving guns, but it's fun

Here's the guys collectively.

Kelly had a brilliant hat that went with the theme quite well. Don't ask about the wall art in the back, it's a 1087 tradition ;-)

Dave as the leader of the San Francisco Chinese maffia, sporting an original pseudo-tattoo by yours truely.

The next party is due to take place at the brand new residence of 1087 and will be of massive proportions with plenty of themed activities and food stuffs... be there!

Of Mice and Mangos

Alright, there's really nothing here about mice. I could try and think of something - like the fact that there's a mouse that occassionally visits our kitchen and runs accross the floor in the morning. But he doesn't really do anything damaging so we don't mind him or actively try and destroy him.

But there is a great deal to do with mangos. Yes. Mangos. And food in general. I should provide context...

My roomie, Dave (yes, same name as me), is a brilliant cook. As in, if the lad decided to actually attend cullinary school, he'd make it HUGE in the business.

I'm not a bad cook myself either ;-)

Well, there's this other friend ours, Kelly - she is also a good cook, loves cooking, and likes to make dinner for our group whenever Dave isn't. Well, our friends decided to put it to rest once and for all who was the best, and threw together an Iron Chef competition. They took up donations and we had a hundred dollar budget for a four course meal. Dave picked me as his sous chef.

We found out a few hours before cooking that the "main ingredient" was to be mangos. I'm like, mangos? Ok... So we went down to the supermarket and made up some recipies.

Our menu consisted of: flakey pastry with mango chillie pepper mousse (sweet, yet with a kick!); a "salad" of mango, strawberries, mellon, grilled asparagus and red pepper in a honeydew half; Salmon with a glaze of reduced mango puree and fresh juiced oranges with a side of shishkabobbed potatoes, onions, and garlic, and organic chips with a special mango salsa; and for desert, after all the sweetness of the mango bits, we went light with just a grilled mango half with a plain white cake.

Failures and New Starts

Well - I was due yesterday to have recieved my data from the ICP-MS lab on the samples I submitted. Dispite the assurence of Joel, the head researcher of the lab, that they would run the samples night and day and weekends, there's not a single data set for me to use, not to mention the fact that I still have another needed 100 samples waiting to turn in to them...


So I missed the AAA meeting deadline for presenting my paper, and it looks like I'll have to cancle the URC meeting presentation too. Oh well. Less stress, right? I'll still hopefully have a paper by the end of the quarter to submit for publishing, I just miss out on the whole dog and pony show of presenting the paper to all the you-ha's of archaeology.





Sad. Ah well.





Better news? ANZA is coming up! That's right, I have exactly TWO WEEKS to gear up for it! I'm going up to Chico tomorrow to pick up my musket and leathers, as well as my trousers, pack, and sundry items. The most exciting part is this: I ordered some wool from Burnley and Trowbridge (http://www.burnleyandtrowbridge.com/) almost a month ago, and it FINALLY arrived at the beginning of this week. Since then I whipped out a prototype of an 1806 pattern French Grenadier's habit, cut into my looooovely new broadcloth and am madly sewing to get this beast done.

That's the idea - we'll see how close I get. It's really a lovely coat, and I'm growing more and more fond of it as I work on it. Having nice materials always helps to.

I ordered a large portion of madder red broadcloth not only for the trim you see there but also to whip out a British line infantry jacket (which are much easier to construct, at least theoretically) if this habit doesn't work out. For a base pattern, I'm useing my ripped pattern from my custom Steve Able 1840's NY jacket. The sleaves especially are the correct tight style that is usually overlooked by generic patterns. I haven't had a lot of trouble with the theoretical modeling of the jacket, but you never know until it's all put together... here's crossing fingers!

It's Bring you French Press to Work Day

It really isn't, I just didn't have time to make coffee at home this morning.
I really like coffee. Sometimes I drink too much of it. Then I go back to tea, which I really like as well. I'm currently working on a bag of coffee made by the Jack Daniels company... so you know it's gonna have a kick to it ;)

It's funny when I think about the fact that no one is really going to read this blog. I don't know why anyone should - I don't really advertise it. And there's only one other blog I read and comment on, so no one is bound to come accross it...

Maybe that's a good thing ;-) I can relax on here!

I'm currently in my lab, eating breakfast in the "clean" room, the front public part where we have our beer and meetings and don't have to worry about contamination unlike the back lab. Later on I'll be running over to our FWARG lab allies to get some obsidian samples, then back to campus to drop them off at the mass spectrometer lab (yay for LA-ICP-MS! Yay for jargon!). Do you like jargon? I do... it makes complicated words and phrases much easier to say. It's linguistic evolution, streamlining for efficiency in this modern world. It's a lovely thing. hahaha...

I twisted my ankle bad going over the jumps yesterday. And continued to jog the quarter mile back home anyway... there's currently an ACU camo tool wrap around it 'cos I don't have an ace bandage... haha, funny me!

Looking around with nothing to see...

Well - here I am again, back in Davis, continueing my "education". Actually wrapping up would be the best term - my last classes consist of those lame ones every grad puts off until the last quarter: the writing program requirement class, the "cultural breadth" class to teach me that yes, there are other people in the world. Oh and I'm retaking my Farrier Science class to raise my GPA to a happy level for CSUC.

Some things remain the same: like my job. Once again, I successfully herded the cats and put together a work schedule for everyone at the lab. I spent this morning cleaning out all the machines so they should be ready for today's afternoon shift. Which I have to leave for in... erm... 30 min? Sure. About that. Maybe later. Dr Bob walked all the way into the Float room where I was covered in silty sand just to say "howdy". That was nice.

I'm struggling with general feelings of dicontentment. Perhaps a lot of this has to do with classes: the only writing section I could get in was "writting for elementary school teachers", and my Cultural class consists of "hey kids, let's teach you what a paradigm means! Can you say paradigm?" The professor is very immature... and I hate classes that focus on paradigms as a buzzword for life..
Part of it might be my job: being in a bright white room with no windows for 6 hours at a time can probably drive one insane. I just make sure to bring beer and keep it in the fridge.
Dave says this discontent might stem from the still fairly recent relationship break up. I'm thinking it isn't. Most of that is because I had a good friend who for some reason decided we couldn't be friends, not more than a day after my ex broke up with me. I get more saddened when I see this old friend now from accross the way than I do when I think about my ex. I guess a lot of that is not knowing why - it sucks loosing a friend and not having any idea why...

But I personally think my discontent rises from an unsatiated wander-lust. It's been quite a while since I've been anywhere that wasn't work or relationship related! Fortunately I have two big events that I'm ultra excited about coming up next month. I get absolutely giddy when I think of them!

1: ANZA - first weekend in May, it's THE Napoleanic event here in California! I'm making the long long drive down with Jean, Jay, and Mrs Jean, the French contingent. Normally I would go British, but I've decided for a change and an excuse to use my French skills again. I'm eagerly awaiting my shipment of French royal blue broadcloth and madder red facing for my 1803 pattern coat! It shall be an exquisite pain to try and create, that's for sure!

2): Lionclaws - memorial day weekend! THE airsoft game to go to in California! over 800 players, strict authenticity and uniform codes, military unit structure, camping, PE, and 48 hours of engagement. All under the command of real military officers, it's the Army's big recruiting gig...

I'm going to have a hard time not enlisting...

That's another thing - part of my wanderlust has sprung up the old Army Reserves plan in the back of my brain. I've always plained on going to OCS and joining the reserves following graduate work (probably post MA), but I'm getting impatient. Of course it's stupid to join now, what with CSUC applications and etc, but... still... dang it... I can't deny the fact that I feel like I want in on the deal now...

There's some other little strange things going on too, but they are not worth commenting on publicly or whatever.
You know what's nice? 40% off on Tuesday nights at Woodstocks! They usually have a great seasonal selection on tap... mmm... and you keep the pint glass, which has a nifty brewery logo on it. It's the little things like that which keep me going ;-)

Home Again

... jiggity jig - I think that's what the little pig from my childhood random stories said...
I have just finished my penultimate quarter at UCD. I know penultimate is not quite the right word, but it's an awesome and seldom used word so I'll use it with glee. With. Glee. That's right.

I'm feeling very luxerious - I'm sitting on the couch at my parent's home in Chico, just having eaten a large breakfast, and hell, I'm still in my flannel PJs! I have an entire week all to myself just to be as lazy as I like. 'tis glorious!

I don't have to dress for work anymore, I get to wear what I like. I get to take the doggy for walks downtown. I meet up with my friends at CSUC for coffee, or more often, beer at either the Banshee pub or the Madison Beer Garden pub, both right next to CSUC campus. I've been able to run into my faculty friends in the archaeology department, who were all excited to learn that I'm going to be applying to CSUC for my Masters in '09.

I love being able to go to our very artsy awesome downtown and hang out with my cool artsy friends. But I'm also able to just stay at home, listen to music (right now it's a mix of Postal Service, Dispatch, and Gemma Hayes), and maybe go down into my workshop and work on random objects. I still have a 18th century seaman's chest that I'm finishing the oil painting on. I carved a crude "camp style" horse's head on my canteen skillet handle.

This weekend I get to reassemble my Civil War equipment and go to one of our awesome small reenactments, Knight's Ferry. It's a lovely site this time of year: old late '60's mill ruins, mill house, and a covered wooden bridge to camp in and "fight" over. Fighting is always lame in reenacting however - our Yankee ranks are not perfect to fight in, but I hate having to go stand in brigade with the Corn-feds. Last year they were the single most farbiest conglomeration of old rebels I'd laid eyes on, and I'm sure it's going to be exactly the same this year *sigh*.

What I wouldn't give to be in a nice hardcore unit, not just four or five scattered mess-mates who do it right...

But the event will be a nice way to end my break. Monday marks the first class day of my last quarter, so I shall be busy once more. Heh

Beaten by the Fish...

Saturday marked the end of my pendultimate quarter! It also marked the general "spring break" for the academic population of Davis, and even though three quarters of the appartment roommates are no longer students, we decided to celebrate anyways by going out to the special "all you can eat" sushi hour at Sushi Nobu's, Jeff Tan's reccomendation. So we went, all five of us.

Now, when I go to a special "all you can eat hour" at a joint, I usually expect them to be secretly hoping that you won't completely eat them out of business. As for Nobu's, I had just settled myself in my seat when this old Japanese lady marches up and shoves one of the largest platters full of sushi in my face. I wasn't exactly sure what to do. So she explained: "TAKE!" she half yelled - "just go ahead and grab some plates" Dave Tan interpreted. So we all reached over and grabbed between one and two plates of sushi apiece. Abaited, the old woman walked away to yell at other tables.

About 45 seconds later she returned, with a second platter. "TAKE!". I had barely had time to separate my little wooden chopsticks from the package and consume my first sushi thing. But she glowered at us until we each grabbed yet another plate. This process continued - in the short space that she was gone, we would all hurredly consume as much as we could so as to be prepared for the next platter that would arrive. She would not take the platters away from our faces until someone had taken an item from it. If less than three items were taken from it, a look of disgust would be directed towards each of us as if to say "you fools, you are strong young men, you should be able to eat MORE! You cannot beat us!". It was disconcerting.

Ten minutes from the time the first platter had been forced upon us, everyone was full to bursting. Five young working men, not exactly small either (well, except me), and we were completely beaten. Still, we valiantly tried to abait the old woman's distate. When we looked as if we were not going to take anything from her platter, she would narrow her eyes, regarding us all with contempt and question, "ORDER?". So one of us would speak up and suggest his favorite sushi for the cooks to work on. She would nod, only slightly satisfied, but then direct her iron gaze towards the rest of us. "ONLY ONE ORDER?" she would question in a thundering tone, and cowering, we would nod and repeat "yes, just that one..."

We spent about fifteen minutes there - upon admitting our defeate that we were full and could not man up to eat any more, she nodded with a look of half triumph and half contempt that was, when we made it to the safety of the outdoors, absolutely hilarious.

We spent the next hour doubled up in laughter over what a strange dining experience it had been for us!

Post Secret!

I dance in my lab when no one is around.

hehehe!

The Lucky One

I'm the lucky one
So i've been told
As free as the wind,Blowin' down the road
Loved by many, hated by none
I'd say I'm lucky 'cause I know what I've done
Not a care in the world
Not a worry in sight
Everything's gunna be alright
'Cause I'm the lucky one

I'm the lucky one
Always havin' fun
A jack of all trades a master none
I look at the world with a smilin' eye
And laugh at the devil as his train goes by
Give me a song and a one night stand
And you'll be looking at a happy man'cause I'm the lucky one.

Well I'm blessed I guess
By never knowing which road I've choosen.
To me the next best thing
To playin and winning is playin and losing
I'm the lucky one I know that now
Don't ask me why, when, where, or how
I look at the world through my smilin' eye
And laugh at the devil as his train goes by
Give me a song and a one night stand
And you'll be looking at a happy man 'cause I'm the lucky one

I'm the lucky one I know that now
Don't ask me why, when, where, or how
No matter where I'm at, it's where I'll be
You can bet your luck won't follow me
Just give me a song and a one night stand
And you'll be looking at a happy man
Cause I'm the lucky one.

The Grind, as it stands

Someone told me last night that I was the first person they met up here who "sees everything completely, and thinks about things diferently", and that "in fifteen minutes I was more entertained by you than by everyone I'd known for weeks". Hah! High praise, good to have those little boosts.

I'm sitting in my lab right now, "working" on a migration period paleo Native American site. I'm sorting through soil samples right now, with micro artifacts that have been relatively dated to around 7000 years ago. It's not that interesting - most archaeology isn't.

Two tables up from me, Dr. Darwent is working on the lithics (yes, that means rocks) from a Nor Cal site; I'm not sure the time period on it. Dr Bob Bettinger just left a few minutes ago, he's currently on sebatical and likes coming in and chatting, or as much as Dr Bob ever chats! He's a funny guy, I rather like him and his old boy spitfire. I remember sleeping through his hunter-gatherer theory classes, but not because he wasn't entertaining, simply because I was running on low sleep that particular quarter. I don't think he remembers that, so I think I'm safe...
The other day I went to a pre-conference prep conference on the UC Davis Research Conference coming up in April. Yes, it took me a while to figure out how to say that right ;-) I'm supposedly presenting my personal obsidian research for this conference, but the ironic part is that by the time I get all my data back from the lab I'm sending it to, I'll have a mere ten days to synthesize everything before this conference! Hell, that's just going to be fun.

So that's just a little update into my academic and work life at the moment. Now then, back to soil samples!

Back to a different world

Hello.
Want to know something ironic? I wrote this post already, and then lost it.
Shows you how long I've been away from blogs!
Yes - I used to have a blog, for many years in fact. It was fairly successful - it accomplished what I wanted it to. I used it to express myself: life lessons I've learned, philosophical questions, news on myself, humorous anticdotes, and even *gasp* the occassional survey.
And then I stopped. For a myriad of personal reasons. I stopped for several years, and it was good not to be tempted to use only an online medium to express myself.
I don't want to sound overly morbid, but these things can be dangerous ;-) Or maybe just to me.

So why am I back? I'm not even really sure myself. I just know I need to be back right now. I'm one of those "english majors at heart" who simply likes writting things down, organizing them in a visual pattern. Editing if need be, but usually not.

Have you ever watched the sun set while walking? Whom am I kidding, of course you have! I get to see it every weekday evening as I walk home from work - I'm traveling westward, so I get the full view of it for as long as it lasts.
The colours always amaze me. Perhaps its the painter in me, but the sheer depth and vibrence of the oranges, pinks, purples, and every other tone is superb and unrecreateable.
I was working on an environmental reconstruction project not long ago, and got sidetracked with paleo-air quality. We can measure this due to the annual record of the arctic ice cores: quite often we find gass bubbles within the ice, which contain samples of actual atmosphere from the time. Did you know why the colours of the sunset are there?
It's from polution. Now I'm a bit of a green guy myself, and I've never been a fan of polution, especially over the industrial revolution. But it is because of those different particles in the atmosphere that we have the amazing colour show every night, as the earth turns away from the sun.
Kinda odd? Think about it this way: our ancestors all over the globe, say a thousand years ago, never experienced a sunset like those we take for granted. Those oranges, purples, pinks - gone, or at least only vaguely present. Predominantly, all that was present in a paleo-sunset was blue. Shades of blue, going to almost white with the position of the sun on the horizon.
I for one, feel almost honoured to be able to see such a show of intense and beautiful colours every evening. We all know that we live in a harsh, unrelenting world - we've all experienced the trials of existence. But I believe that we live in a universe that at its core is good and pure, and goverend by fair laws. Laws that can take even our worst mistakes, and make something beautiful out of it.
Of course we still have global warming, poor air quality killing life, messed up oceanic flows and the like, but that's pretty much what we deserve anyway. But the sunsets? We don't deserve that.

I like to think that even as this applies on the grander scale, it also applies in my own personal life: that every mistake can be used for good somewhere. It's part of what keeps me going.

Not every cloud has a silver lining - but how it explodes in colour when the sun hits it in the evening!