"The tooth! Remeber the tooth!!" -Dr. Yueh to Duke Leto

I’ve uploaded a screenshot of my desktop. It should explain why I’m never online anymore. It takes about 5 minutes for Myspace to load up, just like when I check my email. It even takes a few seconds for Google to come up. Very soon now, though, there will be wireless internet access at 512k up and down for $40 a month. It can’t come soon enough.

As a courtesy, I feel I should warn you that the following is basically a bitch fest and vent session and basically can be summed up as "Oh, woe is me."

Since my last post I have accomplished exactly nothing. Nothing. 9 months later and I’m in almost the exact predicament that I was before. A few weeks after I had the tooth mentioned in my last post root canaled it started to hurt again. After a few more weeks it was clear that it had become reinfected. This left me in a very tough spot. My dental insurance only covers $1,500 per year. The first trip to the first dentist wiped it out easily: 10 fillings at $150 per filling. The extraction, bridge, 2 crowns, and root canal I paid for out of pocket and it wasn’t cheap. It completely wiped-out all the money I had saved over the last few years and now I had to start going back to dentists and doctors.

Without insurance a dentist visit costs $50 just to walk in the door, a specialist $90. It costs $50-$60 in gas to get to Vegas and back. So I went to a new dentist: $50 for the visit + $40 for an x-ray + $50 for gas = a lot of money considering that they told me that, yup it’s infected, you need to see a specialist. $140. I went to a specialist: $90 + $40 for more x-rays + $50 gas = $180. He told me, yup, it’s infected. Come back next week and we’ll root canal it again and it’s gonna cost you $1,200. So, before any work is done, I’ve spent $320 to have a doctor tell me that I have to pay $1,200 more. At this point I was completely broke. There was money in my account but I had to think about car payments, car insurance, food, phone, etc. I opted to pay $400 a month for three months. It was going to be close, but it would work. The root canal took 3 more visits over 4 weeks.

It seemed to work for a while but almost immediately it began to hurt in a different way. 5 weeks after the last root canal visit I went to an oral surgeon. He took one of his special panoramic x-rays. It showed that, not only had it become infected again, one of the roots had snapped, probably during the second root canal. He has a few ideas about how to treat the infection and pushed a special surgery to fix the tooth root while saving the tooth. The odds for success were not good. I calculated how much I had already spent on that tooth, how much misery it had caused; I felt my life dripping away week by week, doctor’s visit by doctor’s visit. I said, "Pull it. Pull the damned thing and let’s be done with it!" He pushed the operation a little longer, but I was adamant. We went to a different room, I was numbed and a few moments and $350 later that foul abomination was gone.

I’d like to take a moment to clarify one thing: Even after all the crap I’ve gone through and money I’ve spent; even knowing that half of the reason this process has taken so long is because I don’t have the money to pay for more doctors visits I DO NOT, NOR WILL I EVER, SUPPORT NATIONALIZED HEALTH CARE! If we had national health care, I wouldn’t have to pay for the individual visits, but I’d be paying for them every pay check, even more than my insurance costs are now. Don’t believe me? Look up how much people pay in taxes in places like Sweden and Canada and how national health care has bankrupted those governments despite the amount of taxes paid. Our government is already broke. Also, have you heard about the scandals surrounding Walter Reed? All the abuses, the wasted money, the deplorable conditions, the incompetence, the impenetrable bureaucracy? That’s a government run hospital and part of a government run health plan. Sprawling and inefficient as the VA medical system is, it is small compared to what a national health care system would look like. Imagine the VA and Walter Reed only time five thousand, that’s what national health care would look like. It is a great idea and it looks great on paper, but national health care will never work and is possibly the absolutely worst thing we could do to ourselves at this point in time.

Now, back to our story already in progress.

After the Novocaine wore off, the socket hurt, but that was to be expected. 2 weeks later I went back for a follow up. Everything looked normal and the infection was in remission. A month after the extraction the socket felt a little weird and there was still pain but I figured that would all clear up in time and, on December 17th, one year and two days after I started the process of leaving DV and working out, I started working out again. It felt great.

Fast forward to February 20th. I had an average weight of 158 lbs buck naked and bone dry which, for me, is freaking huge. Almost exactly one year previously I went to the doctor for the first time about the sinus thing and I weighed 148 fully clothed and layered up for the cold. I could run 3 miles in under 23 minutes. My work out routine would last 2.5 hours and I’d still have plenty of work left in my muscles. I was in the best shape of my life but I could not do it any more. Over the week surrounding the 20th and the one following I had 7 migraines so bad I couldn’t see straight, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I was so nauseated all I had to do was lean forward if I wanted to throw-up. The week after I quit working out, I started a low-grade fever and flu thing which lasted for a solid month. Now, provided I don’t do anything strenuous I usually feel alright, usually. The migraines feel like someone has shoved a nail up through the socket, through my left eye, and out the top of my head. Even minor jostling causes stabs of pain to fire along that axis.

The pain in the socket never went away and only got worse. The crummy feeling and sinus issues never fully cleared up and are now back in full force. I was probably sick weeks before I had to stop working out, but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, and when I finally did it all hit me like a hammer. I have an appointment to get an x-ray taken of the area this Monday. I have my suspicions about what the problem is this time. I’ll let you know if I’m right or not.

After committing to the 3 month payment plan for the root canal, AT&T hit me with a surprise $300 bill. I convinced them to let me pay it off over a 3 month period but they were dicks about it. I had to quit eating dinners in order to pay for it. Even though I didn’t miss or skimp a payment they continued to harass me for all 3 months and then, for the last month, they cut off my long distance until I made the final payment just because.

Until December I had a safety deposit box with a bank in Pahrump. It was time for the yearly payment and I couldn’t afford it so I canceled it. Simple right? It took over an hour and a half because their computer system was convinced I still owed them for the previous year. Even though I was assured the problem had be resolved I kept getting statements saying that I owed Wells Fargo $70 and I kept calling the bank to get it fixed. In the end, 3 weeks ago, I sent a letter to the bank manager. She called me bank in 2 days and told me that she had personally fixed the problem. Yes, she was absolutely sure it was fixed. The next Monday I got a call a collection agency attempting to collect a debt on behalf of Wells Fargo. I was, and still am, quite pissed. After work I drove to Pahrump and sat with various bank people for 2 hours while they sorted it out. In the end they said they had it sorted out and the assistant bank manager gave me a letter saying, Woops, we screwed up, Bruce actually doesn’t owe us any money. Our bad. Last I heard the changes were still propagating through the various bank databases and the collection agency was still considering whether or not to accept the letter.

The only reason I was able to keep not even my head, but just one nostril above water is because of a very generous gift from my Mom and my tax return which was received an spent back in February. Since the end of October I have only had enough extra money to by a replacement work knife, two work shorts, tooth paste, 3 books, and Excedrin. This Wednesday, however I got paid and the whole check is mine. The first one in almost 5 months. I’m still kind of in shock. I’ve spent the last three days trying to find what I was supposed to spend this check on but there’s nothing. Back in November I told the oral surgeon that whatever it was that he was going to do was going to be the last thing I could afford to have done until April ’08. It looks like I was right. I haven’t bought anything yet, I’m just savoring the feeling of having cash again after so long of being under the shadow of utter poverty and all the fear and insecurity that comes with it.

At the end of January, 3 months after the extraction, I felt mildly crummy and the socket hurt, but I wasn’t sick and I could give 100% just like anyone else. According to plan, I called my recruiter and began the process again. He said that, as of this year, they are no longer issuing morality waivers. I assume this is because they are looking forward to a Democratic government and the likely budget cuts. I expected this and already had my next step planned. The congressional representative from my district is a staunch Republican and a member of the Armed Services Committee. Congress.org rates him as the 25th most powerful person in the Republican party. Very convenient. I emailed him briefly explaining about being denied enlistment and how and why I believe this to be an injustice and asked for his help. A month went by and, the day before I got the first migraine, I got an email back saying that he needed a written and signed letter in order to satisfy Freedom of Information Act requirements. I dropped the letter in the mail that night. The next day I woke up and wished I were dead from the pain. 4 days later I admitted I was sick and quit working out, but the damage was already done. Per my request, a very powerful Congressman is now looking into doing me a very large favor which I may very well be unable to accept. Not good. I could send him a letter and call him off, but what if the final fix is easy and I’m well again by the end of April? I’m not going to ask him again.

There were a few more bad things in there too, but they were just more of the same: I needed money I simply didn’t have and couldn’t get while I was too sick to work, but too broke to not work. With the payment of the last of the big bills and debts, however, I have money again, which is a real spirit lifter. The cold weather is finally gone (yes, it gets cold here. For 3 months there was ice, not frost, on the golf course every morning and freezing temps until an hour after sunrise), the sun is hot, the air smells like summer, and the skies are clear all of which is also great for the emotional well-being. Very soon now there will be genuine broadband wireless Internet access which will also make life much more livable. Now, if only I could get this damned sinus thing kicked and move on with my life already things would be down right perfect.

That’s enough crap and negativity for at least 2 posts. Maybe even 3. Hopefully the next one will be better. ’Till then.

MacS

1:42 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Oh Man, Where to Start?

Let's start with the teeth. They are finished. I got my permanent crowns and bridge installed. Then later I went back and had a crown removed and the tooth root canaled. (A quick note on root canals: They don't hurt. If you read about the process you can easily see how it could be one of the most crippling painful things one can experience. However, a few drops of Novocaine block all but the faintest twinges.)

Now, the reason I have spent so much time, gas, and money on my teeth is a part of an effort to cure a seemingly permanent sinus/ear infection that I've had for the last 7 months. Before I sought the help of dentist (my theory being that a rotten tooth may have caused an infection which, in turn, infects a nearby sinus causing constant nausea, dizziness, insomnia, disorientation, headaches, lethargy, vision problems, chest pains, fevers, etc. It's not very fun. The first doctor I saw about this problem gave me allergy medicine and basically told me to go away. The second told me that I was imagining things and that I should seek psychiatric help. He also told me that I don't have any tonsils which, as even the quickest of glances will prove, I do. A coworker recommended her doctor. This doctor looked me straight in the eye and told me that she was afraid that I had cancer. She gave me a referral to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist (which is what I wanted and needed from the very start). This doctor, Dr. Larry Yu, took his time and actually listened to me. After some tests and prescriptions and a CAT scan, he pronounced me perfectly healthy despite the fact that I was running a fever, couldn't get my left eye to focus properly, and every time I slept on my left side I would have a withering sinus headache for 2 days (the left side is the side of the infection).

A little research turned up something called Chronic Sinusitis. My symptoms fit perfectly. Unfortunately all of the treatments, other than surgery, had already been tried. There was a mention in one write-up that it is sometimes caused by rotten teeth. I had a particularly rotten tooth on the top row, all the way to the back of the left side. Fastforward 2.5 months and about $5,000 and there is nothing more that can be done to that tooth other than extraction. In the process, though, the dentist was able to show me on an x-ray the location of the infection and that it does, indeed, sit directly between the bone and the sinus. That was 2 weeks ago. He said it would take about a month for the problems to clear up. There seems to be some progress but, after all the bullshit and nearly 8 months, I'm not holding my breath. We shall see.

In the mean time, my recruiter with the Navy tells me that my application is still waiting for a Morality Waiver. He then retired and didn't tell anyone about my case. A few questions and my paperwork was found and the new guy gave me the same answer. I don't really mind the wait, though; too much physical activity makes me very ill (weight and cardio training in preparation for the Navy was what led to the discovery of the sinus/ear thing). I have to wait until the previously mentioned annoyance is taken care of before I can join anyways. Once that is squared away, I will start a deluge of letters and emails to my Congressmen, one of whom is on the Armed Services Committee.

Meanwhile, after my seasonal job at the Inn ended (I did mention that I transfered to housekeeping from security because I was sick to death of working midnights, right?) I got a new job in Maintenance . This new job was great. Some of the people were . . . not fit for their jobs, but over-all it was great. Then, without asking me, I got moved to the night shift where, rather than fixing things and learning about carpentry, electricity, and plumbing, I plunge toilets and show people how to turn on their showers. The major differences between this new night job and my old night job are that I make less money, I lost my Single Status and now must live in a crappy dorm room and will soon have a roommate, I have no authority or seniority, and that, since I work from 3pm to 11:30pm, I get to see people doing all the things that I want to do but can't because I'm at work. Before, I could only imagine.

Days after that lovely turn of events a miracle happened: I got a girlfriend. Those of you who know me know that I have been something of the perpetual bachelor. No longer. We got a shipment of foreign exchange students in from Romania, Poland, and Slovakia and, for reasons I don't think I will ever totally understand, the hottest one of the bunch took a shine to me (pics upon request).  Having company made those long, annoying shifts a little more tollerable.  But, alas, it seems that no good thing in my life will be allowed to survive untarnished.  A week after our first kiss, I was brought into my boss' office and told that I was not allowed to socialize while working.  Normally I would totally agree with this, but I spend about 75% of my shift sitting on my ass waiting for something to happen.  Every other person who has worked as Night Maintenance spent the better part of their shifts in the company of thier friends and family.  Not me, though; no, I have to sit in the office, all alone with no TV, no radio, no other people and wait patiently until I am summoned to unclog some one's toilet.  At the same time that I am trying to digest the stupidity of this new mandate, my supervisor, the man who trained me to do my job, begins to critisize my methods in the presence of our manager.  He accused me of slacking-off and half-assing my work when I was only following what he, my accusor, had taught me to do to the letter.  I called him on it.  He changed the subject to a new criticism, but the result was the same.  This happened 2 more times in the course of the meeting.  After the meeting I went directly to HR and filled out applications for 2 different possitions, both of which had been empty for months and which management was desperate to fill.  I then when to the manager of each and told them that I would hire on with whomever could get me out of Mainenance the fastest.  It can take as long as 4 months to get transfered.  Today is my last day in Maintenance; I turned in my applications just over a week ago. 

On monday, at 5:30am I will begin my new career in Gold Course Mainenance.  Essentially I will mow a very expensive lawn all day long on a large riding lawn mower.  Waking up in the wee hours isn't all that exciting, but punching out and going home at 2pm, just before it gets really hot, is, and I won't have to unclog any more toilets, change anymore light bulbs, or explain for the eleventy-billlionth time how to turn on the shower.

Did I mention that I had to move?  I had one of the best rooms available to employees but was forced to leave it when I left my job in Security.  Now I live at the Gulch; a sad, neglected, and abused dorm located a mile up the road.  Except for the location (upstairs, on the end, and facing away from the parking lot), the room I moved into was horrible.  The previous tennants had lived there for something like 10 years and had smoked constantly the whole time.  So I repainted the whole thing, replaced the bathroom fan, light fixture, light switches, faucet valve, shower head, toilet seat, and air conditioning unit.  Then I fixed the bed frames, the bar used to hang your clothes on, one of the dresser drawers, and a few of the outlets.  After all that, it was then my to move all of my crap in and try to figure out where to stuff it all, which was rather complicated because the room has no cupboards or closets.  All of that is finished now and my room is livable and comfortable.  As though to celebrate the grand opening of my new room, I was informed that my phone line had finally been reconnected.  With glee I connected my computer raced to the Internet, only to find that the fastest speed I could connect at was 26.4kbps.  That is so slow that it is totally useless in this day of interactive content and streaming media.  Due to the advanced years and decrepitude of the building and the wires therein, that is the best speed I will ever get in that room.  So I'm back to sharing the public computer.  At least now they have slightly high-speed satellite internet and a wireless router which plays nicely with my anchient laptop. 

That's about it, really.  I left-out a lot of details, but I'm sure you can fill in the blanks.  If I had to sum up the last 7 months and my current status it would be "On Hold"; waiting to heal, waiting for the Navy, waiting to get a better job, etc.  It has been very, very frustrating.

'Till next time,

MacS

5:00 PM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

An Ounce of Prevention is Worth a Pound of Cure

I really, really hate going to the dentist. In fact, I haven't gone in over 12 years, despite my flowering garden of cavities and rotting teeth. As a recent comment implies, I finally broke down and went. The final tally: 10 fillings, one extraction, 2 crowns, and 2 perfectly healthy teeth brutalized in preparation for a bridge. I still don't know how much it cost but I know that it will be over $2,000, even after insurance. Why, oh why, didn't I brush and floss regularly?

In that recent comment, it is implied that I bore the pain with stoic grace and mettle. I didn't; liberal amounts of novocaine did. She also praised me for conquering my irrational fear of the man in the white coat with the pokey scrapy thing; I didn't do that either. I barely withstood the fillings. The feel of the cold, merciless drill bit boring relentlessly towards the nerve. My mouth filling with the caramely taste of burning tooth enamel; little bits ticking and clicking off of the the dentist's face shield and ricocheting around my mouth. The best I could do was curl my toes and squirm like a little boy with a full bladder . . . and that was just the fist filling. By the end of the fillings it was quite clear to all present that there was no way I would make it through the crowns, extraction, and bridge. The dentist prescribed Valium. It was not I who conquered my fear, it was Valium. Never in my life was I happier to have some one brutalize and decimate my teeth. I even noticed a little fluffy cloud scuttling across the perfect blue sky outside the window at the very same moment as my doomed tooth was shattered and dragged, bloody and screaming, from my gum. I smiled.

Crap, I gotta go to work. I'll finish this later.

MacS

1:07 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Stop and Smell the Roses

MacS' Log, Cigarette Free Date +75 days and counting

Today was easy. Only a few weak cravings. They were more like flies which I swatted away with haughty ease. The hallucinations have long since past and I can concentrate for hours at a stretch without my focus shifting, unbidden, to smoking a cigarette.

I have discovered that the new smell that I noticed in the office is coming from the chair. I believe this particular scent is called "Old Sweat", though I could be wrong. It has been many years since I smelled anything less potent than a skunk. Either way, it is not what I could call a pleasant smell. Indeed, the more things I am able to smell, the more I realize that I really wasn't missing out on that much. Some examples: I have discovered that I don't like the laundry soap I have been using for the last year. The bathroom seems to stinks a lot longer now. I can tell when my clothes are dirty without having to test for rigidity and I can tell when I am dirty without having to check for obvious signs of dirt.

On the plus side, food tastes great and being able to smell it before it is right under my nose adds a little anticipation to the sometimes stale ritual of the meal. The whole Death Valley Experience has been enhanced by my new power of perception. Yesterday while jogging and thinking about sailing the oceans, I could swear I smelled the salty waves. I then realized that I could smell salt, but it was coming from saline waves that evaporated hundreds of years ago leaving behind the shimmering salt flats. It was a strange but enjoyable sensation to smell the sea while in the heart of the parched desert. Then I noticed that I could also smell the road kill and the coyote droppings.

There are a few women whom I have noticed smell rather nice, but sadly they are the exception. People stink. Just knowing and having to interact with many of the people I must is torture enough, but now I must smell them as well. Previously, I would have said in honesty that there is nothing that could drive me to start smoking again, but I was wrong, I can now smell my own feet. =[

Verily I say unto thee, "Olfactory ignorance is often Bliss."

MacS

8:43 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

The (Seemingly) Lonely Voice in the Woods

*ahem*

Who the fuck is Anna Nicole Smith? Seriously. To the best of my knowledge she was a pin-up girl. A blonde bombshell with big boobs. And that's it. Not a political notable, not a common person doing uncommon deeds, not a Lance Corporal Jason L. Dunham or a Sgt. Rafael Peralta, she did nothing to change the course of history or aid human kind or advance science or society or even her own family. She was a broken, tragic woman who lead lead a broken, tragic life, and died a sad, ignominious death. Can we stop hearing about her already? If not, can we create a cable channel devoted to her and her pathetic life so that the celebrity gossip junkies can get their fix while the rest of the world moves on to more important things like the weather?

Am I really alone in saying, "Who the fuck cares!?"

MacS

3:23 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

There's This Song by The Village People . . .

According to my last blog, I finally came to terms with and admitted that at least a very small portion of my soul is hillbilly. While this is true, there was another, slightly more consequential, choice being made; one that will affect more than just my play list. I was going to talk about it in my last blog but I figured I'd wait until the situation had matured a bit.

When I moved to DV, my plan was as follows: get California residency, pay-off debt, break certain bad habits (like smoking), pick a fricking major already, and go to college. I accomplished the first 2 handily within the first year, most of the third was achieved by the second year, and I had narrowed my field of interest enough to get the college process started. I realized, however, that I needed a vehicle to go to college. Ever unwilling to buy a piece of junk, I bought a solid truck with a solid price tag attached. That was a year ago.

Eight months ago, I learned that my friend and previous manager, Frank, was leaving DV. He, and everyone else I knew, said that I was a shoe-in for the soon-to-be vacant manager position. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized that getting that job would enable me to complete all of my primary and secondary goals within 3 years. With the significant pay increase, I could pay-off my truck, pay-off my dad (who loaned me a large sum of money almost 10 years ago), get my tonsils removed, get my teeth fixed, and build-up a decent savings account in preparation for college. Without the added income, all of these things are pipe dreams.

Alas, it was not to be. The director under whom I would have been a manager does not like me. In fact, I'd be tempted to say he hates me. Many circumstances and occurrences have lead me to believe that I intimidate him; I have all the traits he lacks and resents himself for lacking, most significantly bravery and fortitude, and he hates me for it. He also believes that I want his job. I have tried to assure him that that is not the case and have on many occasions demonstrated my willingness to work for him, despite his obvious antipathy.

I could go on at great length about this man and why I believe he is the single most significant cause of the mismanagement and dysfunctionality of this property, but I'll spare you the details. Two of his more charming and prevalent management techniques are procrastination and delaying decisions until the lack of a decision causes a crisis. Even though he knew in July that one of his managers would be leaving in October, he did not begin the selection process (not above board anyways) until late in November. He finally chose a new manager half-way through December.

In the interview I again made it clear that there was plenty of room for compromise between the 2 of us. I even let him maneuver the conversation to the point where I was given the choice of defending my past decisions (the 'wrong' answer) or letting him tell me what a foolish youth I was (the 'correct' answer). When I told him what he wanted to hear he almost shouted triumphantly, "So, you admit that you were wrong" and then beleaguered the point for about 5 minutes, reveling in my admission of falability. The memory of it still makes me sick.

I didn't get the job and when he broke the news to me that he had hired some one from the outside rather than any of the qualified locals, he even laughed at me. He told me that a new applicant had appeared at the 11th hour and, had it not been for him, he would have had to refer the choice to the GM. The subtext here is that he broke a few corporate policies to bring this guy in and that his distaste of me is such that, even though I was the obvious choice for the job he would have passed the decision up to our brand new GM in the hopes that she would choose someone else as a last-ditch effort to keep me from getting the job.

I was just a little angry about this. Partially because he is the only person in management who would not have hired me for that job (every other manager and director has tried to poach me at one point or another); partially because, without that job, I don't know when I will have enough money to get my tonsils removed, fix my teeth, pay-off my dad, or go to college; partially because his choice, which denied me of so much, was not based on my ability but on his own insecurity; but mostly because he laughed at me. I learned long ago that life is not fair and have become so practiced in defeat and rejection that it is acceptance and success that I don't know how to handle. But it wasn't enough for him to have his cake and eat it too, he had to laugh at me to my face.

Many years ago I promised myself that I would not be working a shit job by the time that I turned 30. I now have 8 months, 11 days, 12 hours, and 41 minutes (as of 02-13-07 at 10:26pm). I would have accepted a manager position or college or the imminence of either, but now neither is an option. Those of you who know me know that I don't make promises very often and, when I do, I keep them. So, what's a boy to do? I could languish here in the Surreal World for an undetermined amount of time waiting for another opening or I could work construction for my second uncle until I've paid off the truck and then starve my way through college. Those are really the only 2 viable options I could think of and neither would fulfill my promise and they certainly weren't very appealing. But there was a third option. At first I only thought of it jokingly out of bitterness, but it sounded better and better the more I thought about it: The military.

After a few days of contemplation I started doing some research. After a few more days I called a few recruiters. I did a lot more research. I tried a little exercise to see where a year and a half of sitting on my duff had left me. After a weekend of weighing my different options, their potentials for success, the availability of secondary and tertiary plans should the primary fail, and the overall appeal of each there really wasn't much of a competition. I'm too old for the Marines and the Air Force and I'm too narrow to make an effective bullet sponge, so to the Navy I shall go.

So far, my favorite part about this decision has been people's reactions. The best are from my burning liberal friends who respect me. When I tell them you can watch the philosophical train wreck happening on their face; they want to be happy for me, but they want to say something disparaging about the military/war/president, but they don't want to insult me, but they don't know how to be positive when talking about the military/war/president, but (generally) they respect me and can't seem to understand how a seemingly intelligent and down-to-earth person such as myself could make such an irrational choice. I love it. I wish I had more people that I could do that to.

Besides that there are basically 2 other reactions I get from people. The first is a strange mix of satisfaction, awe, and envy as though the person feels that it is right and fitting that I should be a part of the military and that they have always toyed with the idea of joining but never screwed-up the nerve to do it. The second is nostalgia and joy from those who have already served. I know we've all seen and heard the bitter, wounded veterans and I do not mean to disqualify their pain, but I now see a much larger, clearer picture: The other veterans, the vast, silent, and proud majority. When I look them in the eye I can see them remembering their own enlistment, boot camp, and service. And they smile. I have no doubt that there will be blood, sweat, and tears, but when 19 out of 20 veterans can look back and smile and give me a little conspiratorial wink I have very little fear.

I'm told that the reactions of those I knew in MN tend to be a little different. I can imagine and I look forward to seeing it first hand next time I'm out there. My family and friends have made it very clear that I will be spending several weeks with them before I go to boot camp. The date has not yet been set, but I'll let you know.

It is not yet even a sure thing that I will be going. It seems that some of the naughtiness in my past has finally caught up to me and I must file many papers and petitions before Uncle Sam is satisfied that I'm a swell chap. I'm not too worried, but you never know.

There are many other interesting things to talk about in this vein, but they will have to wait.

'Till next time,

MacS

4:19 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

This Closet is Really Small. . .

Fear not friends, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I merely suffered a viscious poking from the stick of a certain some one who shall remain nameless. You know who you are. =/

I have been facing certain difficult decisions. You know, the ones that have immediate and life changing consequences. I have already informed my family of my choice so I shall now share it with you.
For the last year or so I have not been honest with myself. There has been a part of me which I have denied; a facet I have held away from the light. Before now I felt embarassed by my predalections; horror at the thought that others might discover my secret desires and all of the questions and side-long glances that would soon follow. But enough. Enough I say! I can no longer live a lie. To grow and mature I must let myself be ALL of myself. I must accept who I am and let the consequences be damned. So witness now as I throw open the door to the closet of my shame and step into the daylight a whole man! You ready?


I like country music!!


There, I've said it and there is no turning back. I hope that you, my friends, do not feel too betrayed. It was not you to whom I was lying, but myself. I hope you can forgive me and try to accept the new me. I will not hold it against you if you cannot. There will always be good times upon which we can reminisce and recapture for a moment our lost innocence.

In other news: I didn't get the manager position for which I have been waiting many, many months. There were certain complicating political revelations at work. They have been dealt with and all has returned to normal with the exception that I am applying for almost any job here in DV that will get me off the midnight shift. My only caveats are that it must pay the same or more than I am making now and it must come with single status. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Later,

MacS

3:24 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Prepare for the longest post ever. . .

. . .Ok, I lied.

They blocked www.myspace.com on the company servers so I can no longer blog while on my down time at work. That is the main reason for my silence. I am still alive. I still work midnights. Which is the other reason I haven't blogged in a while. At about 4am is when I am as cognizent as I get these days. Posting at any other time would sound a lot like this:

" I was thinking about how crappy politics are. Well, politicians. They are the ones who make politics. If we didn't have politicians we wouldn't have politics. It would probably be called "manager-ics". Well, probably not since "politician" is Latin for "man of the city" or something like that and has way more literary umph. Because it's Latin. I think I read that somewhere. More likely it would be called "power-ics" since all that jive is caused by people getting all giddy when they get their hands on power. Where was I? Oh yeah: Politics = Bad. I'm going to bed now. Please pretend that the preceeding was really witty and left you feeling warm and with a slightly new perspective on things. Good night/morning/day."

-MacS

10:06 AM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

So I'm a Little Lazy. . .

I haven't blogged in a while, sorry, just haven't really had anything to say.  An old friend of mine wrote a blog that touched on something I've been meaning to write about for a while.  While, to me, it sounds overly melo-dramatic and fruity, it gets the basic points across.  My reply to his blog will have to do as a post for the time being because I think I juiced my whole monthly allotment of creativity and, rather than cutting it 1:1 with content to make it last longer, I baked it all up into one concentrated glob of goodness.  I recommend taking it in small doses otherwise you may get litterary diabetes or whatever the wordy equivalent of sugar sick is.

MacS

6:14 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Penis Melting Zionist Robot Combs

    Humanity, as a whole, does things that make me sad; make me want to hide in some university library or Chinese monastary.  In such settings I could convince myself that things like Penis Panic are so far removed from modern society that we can all look back at them and chuckle a little bit at how simple we used to be.  If only it were it true.  I mean, seriously, "penis melting Zionist robot combs"?  Sure, it's easy to point all the way across the Atlantic and say, "Well, you know, that's in deepest, darkest Africa.  Something like that would never happen here."  Reading that article, and several related ones, reminded me vivdly of the piles of hoax/chain emails we all get.  Some are passed on out of humor or good natured fun, but not all of them, and they are passed on to you by people you know; passed on by people who fall under the category Here, as in, "Where something like that will never happen."
    While the general affect of this research has been one of greater knowlege, understanding, and enlightenment its specific affect has been to prove that the Internet and Wikipedia are cool, people are dumb, and that the only chance for our survival is through education.  Even with the last most postulation in mind I'm still going to vote "No" on Proposition 1D and any other that claims to be pro-education.  We Californians pay a commical, unbelievable amount of taxes into the local public school system and they are still terrible.  More money and more debt (yes, despite what the supporters of Props. 1B-1E claim, a Bond is, in fact, new gov't debt.) are not the answer.

    Whoa, sorry for the non-sequitur there.  I'm a little spacey today.  I stumbled across that gleaming gem of joy by reading up on the platforms of some of the candidates in the upcoming California general election.  One of the candidates promised to find the truth behind the crack-cocaine/CIA/South Central connection.  I've heard this theory several times, but never anything substantial so I decided to look further into it.  I came across Chip Tatum, Operation Red Rock, and Pegasus.  These reminded me of something else I had read about years ago in my fun, drug phase: MK-ULTRA.  From there I went to Hypnosis then to the Hawthorne Effect and the Pygmalion Effect and to hysteria which finally lead me to Penis Panic which made me very, very sad.

MacS

4:17 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment