A couple of more truly awesome reviews of my bookie! The first is from The Midwest Book Review and is a pretty big deal for me. It's short but it rocks.

"The teenage years are hard, and having a schizophrenic mother does not help that. "The Road to God Knows..." is the coming of age story of one Marie, a teenage girl faced with her single mother's increasingly complex schizophrenia. Forced to grow up before her time, she learns many important lessons. "The Road to God Knows..." is an intriguing and touching graphic novel with a unique art style, highly recommended."

The second is from Small Press Reviews and also rocks! A sample:

"With the road to god knows… Von Allan demonstrates that he’s talented as both an artist and a storyteller. The Ottawa he conjures is beautifully and lovingly detailed — on par, perhaps, with the London of Dickens or the Cleveland of Harvey Pekar’s American Splendor. Stylistically, I’m also reminded of Black Hole by Charles Burns and Sloth (among other things) by Gilbert Hernandez. Regardless of his artistic influences, however, what’s clear throughout this graphic novel is that Allan is an optimist who strives to explore the human heart in all of its intricate complexity."

Now, if you like my book, I'd certainly appreciate you helping spread the word. I can't offer anything but my eternal thanks, but getting the word out is always the big challenge. That elusive word of mouth thing, y'know? I'm getting good reviews and the book is accessible pretty much everywhere (both brick and mortar, online, and through special orders) - I just need more people to know about it. So it ever was. :)

Thanks!

Von

First of all, today I took a break from packing and took a cocoa bath... w00t! For those not on Facebook:

Cocoa Bath:
2 cups powdered milk
2 Tbl cornstarch
1 Tbl cinnamon
1/4 cup cocoa powder.

I have a big plastic jar of it in the bathroom that occasionally begs to be opened.




Also, and on a not-so-happy note, just got a troubling phone call. Apparently someone found Barney while out on a walk. Yep. He's still wearing his old CA tags. Apparently he's pretty beat up and missing a bit of hair. I am hoping that the couple who found him and called me will want to keep him, or might know someone who is good with a Houdini Dog. Or maybe they'll be able to get a hold of the woman who adopted him from us and she'll take his escape artist tendencies more seriously. I'm still a little stunned. Here I've been under the impression that he's been a pampered little prince since he left us, and now I'm hearing that he's out running the neighborhood all the time with injuries and such.

[Greta Christina] No-Strings Sex, Disappointing Love, and Asking the Wrong Questions

If you’ve given up on romantic love, is no-strings sex a viable option?

I don’t usually write this column as an advice column. But I make occasional exceptions. And last week, someone wrote a comment in this blog asking for advice . . . a comment that I (a) felt compelled to answer, and (b) couldn’t answer in just a few words. (Third comment from the top on this piece.)

The commenter had responded to a call for sexually-themed New Year’s resolutions by saying that she’d had a terrible experience with someone she met on the Internet, someone she’d traveled across the world to be worth who turned out to be, shall we say, unworthy of her affections. She had vowed to never get emotionally attached to a man again. And she asked this:

So this puts me in a quandary: how “palatable” to a potential male partner would I be if I told him I just wanted some awesome sex without a relationship or any bullshit “I love you’s” that we both know he probably doesn’t mean anyway, and if he does, he only means it when it’s convenient for him to truly love me?

For the moment, I’m going to set aside the question of whether it was wise for this commenter to uproot her life for the sake of an Internet romance with someone in another country thousands of miles away. (Actually . . . no, I’m not. I’m going to address that question right now; it’s a moot point for this particular questioner, but it may not be for someone else reading this. No, this is not a wise move. Internet romances can be great and do sometimes lead to successful physical-world romances; but they have to be treated with great skepticism, serious caution, and very careful timing. And the farther you have to travel for them, the more true that is. As Dan Savage has said: If you fly across the country or across the world to meet the virtual love of your life, don’t treat it as romantic destiny — treat it as an adventure, and frame it so you’ll have a good time on your trip even if your lover turns out to be a loser. If you uproot your entire life for someone in another country you’ve never met . . . well, it sucks if they turn out to be a jerk, but you’re the one who uprooted your life for someone you didn’t really know, so yes, you do bear some responsibility. Also, play it every bit as safely as you would if you were meeting an Internet date in your home town: meet in public for the first time, and make sure someone you know knows where you are and how to reach you.)

Anyway. Back to the question at hand. If the question were simply, “Are there men who want casual, non-romantic sex with no strings attached?” the answer would have to be a vigorous, “Yes! Of course! What planet have you been living on that you even have to ask that question? The world is loaded with men who would treat this offer as a gift from every god they’d ever imagined. And while some of these men are selfish game-players, others are decent, ethical men who’ll be as honest with you as they can about what they do and don’t have to give. Be careful — but go for it.”

But I don’t think that’s the right question here.

I don’t think that’s the question I should be answering.

The question I think I should be answering is one that this commenter didn’t ask. It’s one that she assumed she knew the answer to. And I think the answer she’s come up with is wrong — seriously wrong.

The question I think I should be answering is, “Since I got my heart broken by a lying jerk, should I assume that love is always a lie, give up on romantic love forever, and just get my sexual needs met with no-strings sex?”

The answer to that question is a vigorous “No.”

First of all, this assumption is just flatly not true. Not every man who says “I love you” is lying, and not every man pursues love purely for their own convenience. Not even most men do that. It sucks that this happened to you; but as they say in the sciences, you can’t draw a general conclusion from just one data point. It probably makes sense for you to hold off on an LTR right now, while you’re still feeling raw and demoralized — but vowing to never again get emotionally attached to a man because of one crummy experience is a recipe for unhappiness. (If nothing else, you’ll get hosed by confirmation bias — your assumptions will lead you to ignore decent men who treat women well, and focus your attention on selfish, deceitful schmucks.)

But more pertinently to the question at hand:

This assumption is going to seriously interfere with a satisfying no-strings sex life.

For no-strings sex to work, you need to feel happy about sex. You need to feel happy — at least potentially happy, willing and able to be happy —- about the people you’re having sex with. And you need to feel happy about yourself. You need to see no-strings sex as something positive you’re pursuing for its own benefits, and for your own reasons. You can’t treat no-strings sex as second-rate, something you’re settling for because you’ve given up on what you really want. Not if you want to have a good time doing it.

Let me put it this way. Back in my late twenties and early thirties, I did some serious catting around. I was happily single, and I made it clear to everyone I dated that, while I was interested in sex and even friendship, a serious romantic relationship was out of the question. I wasn’t just happy to meet women who wanted no-strings sex — I only wanted women who wanted no-strings sex.

And yet, if I’d dated a woman who was looking for no-strings sex because she’d been so badly burned by love that she’d vowed never to try that again? If I’d dated a woman who only wanted no-strings sex because she knew that love was bullshit, and that if I said “I love you” I’d only be lying anyway, so she didn’t want to hear it?

Every single one of my red flags would have gone up.

That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.

I am entirely in favor of no-strings sex for people who genuinely want it. I think there are lots of excellent reasons to want no-strings sex. I even think that “I recently got out of a relationship, and I want sex but I’m not ready for another big commitment right now” is a pretty okay reason. And while I am a great lover of love, I don’t think serious romantic relationships are right for everybody all the time. I think there are people who would be happier being single — some temporarily, some permanently. We don’t all have to do relationships the same way.

But if you’re pursuing no-strings sex out of bitterness, cynicism, anger, hurt feelings, and a generally bleak view of romance, sex, and the gender(s) you’re attracted to . . . the chances of it resulting in “awesome sex” are very slim indeed.

At best, you’re going to have some sad, disconnected, unsatisfying sex. You’ll probably get a lot of rejection, too: from guys who are insulted at the assumption that they’re probably liars, and/or who find the prospect of sex with disappointed, pessimistic women to be less than alluring. And at worst, you’re going to make yourself vulnerable to some serious assholes. (Think of the kind of guy who’ll meet you and think, “Hey, she’s bitter and unhappy about men and has given up on love — I bet she’ll put out.” Is that the kind of guy you want to be sleeping with? Forget whether they’d be safe or trustworthy — do you think they’re going to be any fun in the sack?)

In a lot of ways, no-strings sex can be emotionally harder than long-term relationship sex. At least, it’s a different kind of hard. You have to date more people, put yourself out into the world more. You have to date a lot of frogs . . . and you have to date a lot of people who are going to think you’re a frog. You have to be willing to suffer a lot of rejection — and to do a lot of rejecting yourself. You have to be in a pretty strong, self-confident place for that to work.

And it doesn’t sound like you’re in that place right now.

I don’t think you need no-strings sex.

I think you need a therapist, a vibrator, and time.

Not necessarily in that order.

Photography by Yock (Yoshitaka Kawakami)

Greta Christina, copyright © 2010.

I wrote some Number One commentfic for fandom_stocking and figured I'd share! It's a mix of TOS, AOS, and Mirror Universe, gen, het, and femmeslash.

( Downtime )

( In Her Satin Tights, Fighting For Her Rights )

( The Velvet Ribbon )

( Risk )

Nothing prepares you for this. You have seen pictures, read stories of killing. Auschwitz, Rwanda, Cambodia. You've seen a body before, small and frail, in a casket. The American way of memorial is white-glove salute and polished stone. The American way of death is clean, hidden.

You have studied the history of the genocide that happened here. The text is black on a field of clean, white paper, gathered from books pulled squarely from polished shelves.

Fact: The Khmer Rouge under Pol Pot was the revolutionary party of what became known as Democratic Kampuchia. From 1975 to 1979 they enacted a mass program of torture and starvation that wiped out 2.2 million people. Anyone with an education, anyone practicing a religion, anyone born within a city limit, was marked for death. Pol Pot's declared ambition was to liquidate as many as five million people.

Fact: The United States supported Pol Pot's Regime - even beyond the end of his rule. The US was instrumental in funding the Khmer Rouge, providing weapons, ensuring a lasting seat in the United Nations. In 1991 UN Human Rights Subcomission, under the guidance of the US, drafted a provision that no member governments would ever be allowed to "detect, arrest, extradite or bring to trial those who have been responsible for crimes against humanity in Cambodia." The United States government denied that any such genocide took place, even over the voices of American journalists being slaughtered amidst the chaos.

Fact: Choeng Ek, the killing fields south of Pnom Phen, are believed to house the bodies of over seventeen thousand men, women and children. Most of them remain buried in mass graves yet to be uncovered. It is one of many such killing fields spread across the country.

All these dry facts, read safely from a book, weigh on you. They anger you and sadden you. Knowing them does not prepare you at all.


The uniformed guard takes your money and hands you a ticket that flaps against your fingers in the dusty wind. The grass leading up to the memorial is a manicured green, kept alive by a man that seems intent on spraying the hose onto every single blade. It's quiet except for the splash of water, the buzz of insects in the trees. Time is molasses here, slow and golden like the burnt edge of the sky. The dripping hose wanders on, feeding the next blade of grass.

You decide to avoid the memorial Stupa ahead where the stacked bones are kept. You will work up to it last. First the tiny museum with the yellowed photos and racks of murder weapons. Pick-axes. Mauls. A machete gone red with rust. You read about the 8,895 bodies uncovered here. Read of the many more still buried in the earth.

Out past the place where the prison sheds once stood, you walk up to the first open grave. It's a clay pit protected by a sagging, thatched roof. It looks clean. The bottom is filled with that fine clay silt that rims the dusty remains of a mud puddle. Small pebbles scatter the bottom. They cold be rocks, they could be bone, but they look innocent enough in the shade. You move on, walking the worn dirt path that winds through the honeycomb of pits. The air smells bitter here, crimson.

Your companion, Marguerite, is the first to point it out to you as you walk. She's trained in biomedical anthropology to recognize the shape of the skeleton. You cannot miss the look on her face as you slow down, stop, look down.

The path is paved with human bone. So many bones lay beneath your feet that your mind simply took it as anything but. It is not intent that paved the path. This is the effect of hundred of shoes wearing away the dirt of a vast shallow grave. Polishing it until it carves the femurs and ribs themselves into a bizarre tomography.

This is almost too much to take in. You walk slow, halting with your steps. The bones jut from the ground, still wrapped in jeans, in shirts, in the muddy rags of socks. In some places, the loose clothing has arranged itself in drifts. In others spots, only threads of cloth sprout up like tufts of hair. You bend down, recognize the red and white scarf of the people's party sprouting up from a bald patch of earth. These were used to bind the hands of prisoners before a pick-axe slipped its way into the brain.

You back up, find yourself beside the killing tree. This is where they crushed the heads of babies and children by smashing them against the rough trunk, before they dropped the bodies in the pit beneath. The ground is littered with teeth.

This is no sanitized memorial -- no safe, stone monument at which to reflect on the dead. This is a mass grave you are standing in and there is no direction you can turn away from it. No way to pray and depart, thoughts elsewhere. You will walk on the faces of the dead to leave this place and you will not forget what that feels like, ever.

Presidents and generals should walk these fields, you think. Those who raise up a weapon in anger should walk these fields. Anyone who has ever denied a genocide, a holocaust should be forced to crawl on hands and knees through these killing fields until they retch, until they slide weakly into the hollows of the earth.

When you reach the Stuppa that holds the bones of the eight thousand, you light incense for the tower of skulls inside. You feel calm. Aware.

The thousand dark eye holes stare through you to the horizon. The victims who rest here are gone. They cannot remember what happened to them, how they came to be here in these silent green fields.

You will.

So, Max and I are supposed to be heading off to see my friend juliebean in the morning, before returning to Austin on Friday. I say supposed to, because Max woke up a few minutes ago, puking. *sigh* Now I'm in the crappy position of having to decide what to do now.

On the one hand, it's entirely possible that this is a one time issue for Max. He stuffed himself silly at dinner, and it wouldn't surprise me if this is just a result of one too many tacos from Taco Bell. On the other hand, with the amount of traveling we've done over the past few weeks, it's entirely possible that he's picked up a bug, and if I continue on to Julie's, I risk infecting them all, as well as coming down with whatever it is myself further on down the road.

So far, he doesn't seem to have a fever, nor does he seem too concerned with his situation. He's happily splashing in the bathtub, while I run around trying to clean the bed (of COURSE he managed to find MY pillow from home to hork on, thereby rendering it ruined, since I can't really wash it). Luckily there were some spare sheets in the closet, so once I pull him from the tub, we should be able to resume our regularly scheduled sleep. In the morning I'll reassess how he is, and hopefully, we'll be able to continue on to juliebean's.

Why does this sort of thing always seem to happen when we're on the road? :P

www.mudtowncomics.com

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mudtown-Comics/163158027879?v=wall&ref=ts

5 new prints on wood including: DINOSAURS, Zombie Wiener Dogs, Ostriches, and Birds!!!


http://www.etsy.com/shop/joehavasy

Alice came back through the looking glass,
Older and wiser and sweeter than honey wine,
Sings on the stage like a white rabbit angel,
Cheshire-clever and hard to define,

And Alice says, "Sometimes it's ravens and writing desks,
Sometimes it's something more simple by far,
And the times when you're running as fast as you can
Are the times when you're running to stay where you are,
Where you are."

Dorothy writes to the folks back home,
Says "the weather is lovely," and "wish you were here,"
Walks by the lake when the rainbows come,
Laughs like a whirlwind, loves without fear,

And Dorothy knows that the answers you offer
Are just as important as those that you keep,
And the places you find when you don't know you're looking
Are the ones where your roots can grow healthy and deep,
Dig in deep...

( And oh, you girls, you'll find your way home one day... )

Sleep? Sleep is for the weak.


Sent from my BlackBerry

While I read livejournal everyday I don't post here often. So I thought I would keep those of you who don't follow me on Twitter or Facebook up to date with me.

Let's see...

At the end of August I started having a pain in my hip/groin region. It was mostly just stiff and sore when I walked but got progressively worse. It was so bad that I couldn't walk, sit or lay down without being in so much pain I couldn't see. The only position I could put my body in that didn't cause me to scream in pain was laying on my stomach.

Normally that is not a bad position but when you have to lay like that for weeks at a time it is really not fun.

I decided after about 2 weeks of it not getting any better and 20-30 advil at a time not helping that I should prolly go to the doctor. The problem with that is I have been out of work for over a year so I don't have any chance of health insurance. This means that my only real choice is to go to Highland Hospital in Oakland.

This becomes a major problem. With the pain I am in, I can't drive. There is no way to get there easily with public transit and my Mom will not drive on the freeway. So I have to beg for a ride. It takes me about a week before I can find someone who can drop me off there.

I get to the ER and check in, I am short of breath, my heart rate is high, my blood pressure is higher. I am sweating so bad it looks like it is raining only on me. I almost pass out in the lobby.

So of course it takes 5 1/2 hours to get a bed in the ER.

Once I am in a bed they start doing tests and giving me pain meds.

They start out with 1000mg of Vicodin. It does nothing.

Then they move on to Morphine. It dulls the pain enough to nap for 15-20 min.

Then they gave me Dilaudid. I was still in pain but I didn't notice so much cause I was really high.

So after about 19 hours in a bed in the ER I finally get told I am going up into a room and will be there for a few days. It turns out they have no idea why I am in pain but I royally fucked up my Kidneys taking fist fulls of advil at a time.

I spend 5 days in the Hospital. Luckily a few friends had come and visited me while I was there and I had my computer to watch movies on. I highly recommend The Hanna Montana movie while high on a Heroin-like drug.

So I start to feel better, they think the pain was Gout in my hip, that is what they are treating me for. They can not give me a full diagnosis because I am too big to fit into the MRI machine. They send me home.

That lasts about a week.

The pain comes back quickly. It takes me another week to find a ride. They give me new meds and send me home. This time I am only in the hospital for the night. I did however see a guy get Maced.

I was still in a lot of pain but I was able to function more. I could walk to the bathroom without crying. I saw a Rheumatologist, he says that not only do I not have Gout but that I have never had it. They start treating me for a swelling in my spine.

The meds they give me for that gave me awesome Migraines and basically forced me to stay in bed 20 hours a day.

So about a week later I can't walk again. This time it is my foot. I find a ride and head back to the ER. They do tests and can't believe that the Rheumatologist doesn't think that I have Gout since I have EVERY symptom. They do the definitive test where they stick a 3" long needle into my ankle and draw fluid to see if there are crystals.

There were no crystals.

This time I only spent 8 hours in the ER and got interviewed for a Documentary. You can see part of the interview here. http://whatruwaitingfor.com/blog/?p=475.

I am still in pain. Somedays are better than others.

They still are not sure what the problem is.

I am on so many meds I rattle when I walk. One pill I only have to take 1 day a week, but I have to take that 6 times that day.

My depression has not been great during this whole thing and the "relationship" with my mother has been better.

Other than that things have sucked. I can't even begin to look for a job because I can't walk half the time. I am afraid to make plans to see people because I never know day to day if I am going to be able to go anywhere. I spent New Years Eve and Day in bed Crying. Most of my contact with people is online.

So that is where I am at.

Once again, I've proven my status as a scatterbrain. According to my mom, I managed to leave behind a coat, a portable DVD player, a package of Max's diapers, two of his reading books plus a coloring book, and my much ballyhooed Prediabetes book.

And that's just the downstairs - it's possible I left even *more* upstairs in the bedroom. *sigh*

On the other hand, I've made it through the worst part of the drive, and barring any unexpected gifts from Mother Nature, I shouldn't have to drive through any more snow showers. I'm *definitely* not driving back to the great white north in the winter any time soon - I just don't have it in me to deal with even the *appearance* of an icy road. I never had any issues with the actual drive today, but that didn't stop me from being paranoid the whole trip. The blowing snow through most of Northern Indiana was a real treat, as well. I'd like to give a hearty PBBBBBTTTTHHHHH to winter!

Well. It's been one hell of a year. The most difficult I can remember. But also utterly worthwhile. There are some things I would have changed, of course. But, at the turn of the year, I had Charlie on my lap, with Sammy & Jeff sitting next to me. Ain't no way to improve that.

~~~

Yay New Hampshire! They just became the fifth state to allow gay marriage. Here's hoping the trend continues strongly in this new year.

~~~

Oh interesting. An interview with John Flansburgh about the interviews They Might Be Giants have done.

~~~

Some absolutely *amazing* work here. I am in awe.

~~~

Woke with a sort throat. Bleh. I'm hoping that it's more "slept in a cold room with my mouth open" and less "Martian Death Flu". Either way, tea is definitely in order.

Six months away from LiveJournal. What do I have to say for myself? I can at least report that it's been an eventful six months. I don't know that anyone reading this is actually unaware of the highlights. The most important one being the fact that I'm no longer in the navy. Hooray! Where do I go from here? I was accepted into the Walter Cronkite School at ASU and talk to my academic adviser on Monday. So I get to hammer out the details for the coming semester then. Luckily I'm going into ASU as a transfer student, having taken classes while in the navy. Unfortunately, ASU, far from being the most military friendly of schools, will accept none of my military training for credit (would have been a lot of credits, too). This doesn't bug me so much, though. I got the minimum 24 credits required to be a transfer student and the new post-9/11 GI Bill covers my full tuition (in addition to giving me a nice little sum as a living stipend). When the details of the new GI Bill came out, I already knew I wanted to milk it for all its worth. Racing through school and finishing early doesn't do me a whole lot of good accept that I don't get all that extra dough. I suppose it gives me a head start on my career but the way I figure it, I'm way past that point already. What's an extra year of school? Besides, I want to double major. Many of you know I wanted to get into foreign affairs but I was warned off the global studies program at ASU by multiple people. No one had a single nice thing to say about it. I then toyed with the idea of going back to my original plan of getting an English degree. I would love to have an English degree but it will be even less practical than my journalism degree. A friend recently recommended a business degree for me, saying she thinks it would fit me well. After thinking about it, I agreed. I would love to have a business degree, partly because I would love to eventually get into the business side of journalism. The times they are a changin' and I would love to have a hand in the evolution of the journalism business if it's not too late by the time I get there. I think there's a good chance old business models will be struggling to survive for a good while. So sad that not everyone can see their inevitable collapse.

So let's back track a little bit. Last time I made an appearance here I was in Okinawa. How did that work out for me? Pretty well! It was a great final trip. Got some snorkling in, which is always amazing in Okinawa. Weather was gorgeous. I love that island. I also received news that my request to cancel the one year extension on my contract was approved. I was so excited I was beyond words. But alas, not all was as it seemed.

Believing I was on track to be separated at the end of August, I decided to make the most of my remaining months in Japan. I took my first trip to Sendai for the four-day Fourth of July weekend. I detailed this trip in an entry I meant to post after filling it with details on my other travels but I never got around to finishing it. I was able to get a train pass that isn't supposed to be available to anyone living in the country or traveling on business (lucky me) and had a month to use four days of unlimited travel on the JR East line. One of my days was used at the end of the weekend getting back to Misawa. Two more days were used in one weekend when I traveled around to a few lesser-known towns in Japan to see some sites. I spent the night on the streets of Tokyo* and then made my way back up to Misawa for work on Monday. My last day was used getting me back down to Tokyo to begin my two weeks of leave I used to travel the middle and southern Japan at the end of July and beginning of August.

My leave was fun as I got to hit all the sites I wanted to see before leaving Japan, including: Hiroshima, Kyoto, and Nagasaki. Kyoto may very well be the most gorgeous city in Japan. I did the stereotypical stuff and saw some temples and got to see a couple geishas (whatever that means in modern Japan) but then I tried to explore the nightlife. It wasn't impressive when I was there. There's a good chance it was the particular night (I think it was a Sunday) but I don't know that Kyoto is known for its nightlife anyway. I did find a club I rather liked, though, and met three guys from Cornell. They were graduate students in Japan doing some kind of conference. So I talked with them for a while and we played some pool. Then the dance floor up stairs finally filled up a bit and we headed up to scope the place out. Naturally, no one on the dance floor spoke good enough English for me to hold any kind of decent conversation over the thumping base. The coolest chick I met there was black woman in her mid-20s teaching English in Japan. So our similar experiences living in Japan made good conversation fodder. I got her number in case I made it back down to Kyoto before I left, but of course I didn't.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki were pretty similar, although Hiroshima had the better museum and memorials. Still standing in Hiroshima near ground zero in the iconic ruins of a building representing the total destruction of nuclear power.

Both museums cry about desiring a nuclear-free world. Babies. Just kidding. Kind of. There are positive uses of nuclear power and the Japanese have been hypocritical about this in the past but that's a discussion for another time.

After Nagasaki, I spent a small fortune to get back up to Misawa (and 11-hour train ride costing over $300 since I no longer had a train pass and had no luck trying to hoodwink my way into another one) for my separation physical the next day. While back at base I learned some disturbing news: turns out that my detailer misunderstood my request and approved it without having the authority to approve what I really wanted. Seems he thought I wanted to take off the third year of my orders in Japan when I really wanted a year off of my contract. This confusion had resulted in my receiving push-orders to a ship out of San Diego which everyone at my command laughed about since they knew I didn't have enough time on my contract to fulfill the orders. I had a “failure to obliserve” message sent out, thus voiding the orders but not before I received a welcome aboard package from my never-to-be skipper. Bon voyage, suckers!

This unwelcome turn of events frustrated me quite a bit; pissed me off, even. However, if I had learned one thing from my previous commander-in-chief it was this: always have an exit strategy. I quickly regrouped and referred to my back-up plans.

Before I could be bothered with the official stuff, though, I had some leave to finish. My birthday was coming up and I had every intention of spending it in Tokyo. So I did! I went back down to Yokosuka where Barker was staying temporarily to attend a class and hung out with him. We were both getting sick and in no condition to go out partying. That didn't stop me from going out on my birthday, however. I said farewell to Barker and did some looking around Tokyo and yet another night in Shinjuku.

My first day back on the job I was determined to find some overlooked loophole. I already knew of a couple avenues to pursue to get out early but it just wasn't soon enough. I had already tasted the possibility of freedom in 2009 and I wouldn't let go of that dream so easily. A quick Google search revealed my answer in the form of a message that for some reason my career counselor was completely ignorant about (WTF! #*(@%&@*$!!!!). This message explained that any person not in a special program or eligible for an SRB (selective reenlistment bonus) had the option in 2009-2010 to get out up to 12 months early. Eureka! My window of opportunity was slim. ITs, among many other rates in the navy, lost their SRB eligibility earlier in the year because the navy ran out of money. Yes, that's right: Ran. Out. Of. Money. They couldn't even transfer people who were due to transfer to their new commands. The navy was broker than broke and could do nothing until some emergency funding came through. The new fiscal year which started in October brought back the SRBs for everyone who lost it but my request was accepted at the end of September. Suck it, navy! The navy is in the midst of a force reduction, thus allow deadbeat sailors such as myself to escape legally and honorably with full benefits in tact. My other avenue to pursue was the “conscientious objector” route. That could have given me problems. Probably wouldn't have made for a quick getaway, anyway.

My early separation request was approved for December 15. With all the terminal leave I had saved up, this put me at leaving Japan in October if I wanted to. Ultimately I decided to sell back 8 days of leave and left Japan on November 3rd. I maintain that this was a fantastic idea because Halloween in Tokyo was amazing!

As I waited out my dwindling time in Japan, I started traveling more often on my days off. True to form, I was still determined to see as much of Japan as possible for I left. Another guy, Ahern, liked to get out and explore as much as I did so we often paired up for weekend adventures. This led us to familiar and unfamiliar places alike, all amazing. Hiking in the Hakkoda Mountains, Rikuchu National Park, Oirase Gorge, and more! The Hakkodas and Oirase Gorge were particularly beautiful in the autumn as the leaves were changing.

As October came to a close, I started making all my preparations to leave Japan and the navy. On October 30, two years of my life were packed up within 45 minutes by the Japanese movers. It was pretty crazy. After that, I took off with Barker for my last trip to Tokyo. We did another night in Shinjuku and spent Halloween in Roppongi. Roppongi was pretty wild on Halloween and Barker and I were a big hit in our rock star costumes reused from earlier in the year. I couldn't have asked for a better way to end my time in Japan. I went back up to Misawa on Sunday, took care of some last minute business on Monday, had one last meal at CoCo Ichiban Curry House (OMG delicious!!!), and then said farewell to Japan on Tuesday.

I then had one week in Puget Sound, Washington for out processing. It's really nothing more than appointments and paperwork to make sure everything is in order. I spent the weekend in Seattle with John, one of my roommates at the TPU barracks. He was a newbie waiting for his ship to pull into port so he could finally start on his grand navy adventure. Unfortunately, he was underage but I thought it was more important to take a new guy out to get him acquainted with traveling and seeing new things than to go barhopping all night. I've done my fair share of barhopping and I don't think he had gotten off base before accompanying me to Seattle. I don't like it when booters get somewhere and hardly ever go off base. I think sometimes this has to do with being uncomfortable with the surroundings or ignorant to how the public transportation works in the area. He seemed pretty interested in going into the city, though, and didn't mind spending the night there even though neither of us had brought a change of clothes or toiletries. I've met plenty of lesser men who wouldn't have so much as followed me out the door, content to waste the day away on the computer or playing video games (not that I'm bashing such enterprises, just don't think it's any way to spend what little time you have in an awesome area you may not see again for a long time). Anyway, we were able to make it into a couple places that didn't card and we ate at the top of the Space Needle where we polished off a bottle of wine.

We hit up a couple places that stopped John from entering saying they couldn't let him in yet but that the place became an “after hours” bar at 2 AM. I had never heard of an after hours bar but it sounded really lame and John agreed. You don't go to bars to bump into teenie boppers who think they're having a blast living up the Seattle Nightlife on Coke products and lemonade, to say nothing of their complete ineligibility for other multi-player nocturnal activities.

I also used this visit to Seattle to visit the original Starbucks, which I had passed on my previous trip but never entered. Mike Mills said it would make me feel like a tool... and it kind of did. But I'm no hippie and have no shame in loving big chains!

One of the most exciting things to me about being back in the states was being able to pick a new cell phone. I had known since the G1 came out last year that I wanted an Android based phone and before arriving in the states I thought I had settled on the Motorola Cliq. I already had T-Mobile, which I didn't mind, and I didn't see any reason to change. The only two service blunders I had with T-Mobile that pissed me off were at the end of my contract. Certainly didn't help them in trying to keep me as a customer. They were fighting an uphill battle, anyway, because just three days after landing in the states, Motorola was releasing another Adroid phone on Verizon: the Droid. I really didn't want to wait longer than necessary to get my new phone but after talking with the guy at the Verizon booth at the mall I decided to hold off. I'm glad I did. I had that Friday off, luckily, so I was able to make it down to the mall when Verizon opened two hours early for the Droid launch. The mall booth wasn't busy at all, with only a few people milling about, but apparently the actual stores in the area were pretty busy. Doesn't matter now, though, because I have my Droid and I love it. I'm sure you've all dealt with my Apple bashing in the past, so I won't open up a new tirade now. I'll just say any self-respecting tech lover will pick an Android phone over the iPhone. If you're another know-nothing computer user who just wants to play with all the hippest apps, you go ahead and stick with the iPhone. It's the right choice for you.

Moving on, a week after I arrived in the states I left Washington to return to my home of record in Arizona. I started meeting up with old friends and have by now seen almost everyone I used to hang out with regularly. I even had lunch with Crystal Allison the other day and she rarely makes an appearance in Arizona these days. The exception, of course, is Beth who is living in Boulder, CO. I want to check out Colorado one of these days so maybe I'll make it up there some day soon. I'd especially love to go snowboarding up there.

Soon after arriving in Arizona, Schuyler had his wedding. He seemed hesitant about making last minute plans for me since it was on Coronado Island and he didn't want to deal with the hassle of getting someone on base at the last minute. Not a problem, I reminded him. I was still active duty on terminal leave. True, he acknowledged. So I made my own plans and got to see San Diego again. For the unacquainted, North Island is GORGEOUS.

I had a good time in SD and at the wedding. I also got to grab lunch with a guy I worked with in Japan who is now based out there. I was pretty shocked to hear Schuyler was getting married but he seems happy. So congrats to him!

Thanks to everyone who has been keeping me in the loop since I've been back. Kind of sucks living so far away right now, something that will have to be rectified before the school year starts, and having been gone so long that I know nothing of what people have going on in their lives. Erica Mahn has probably kept me in the loop more than anyone, always passing along hints of parties and get-togethers. Thanks!

My Christmas and New Year's were good. Nothing out of the ordinary and New Year's seemed unusually dead this year. I had fun, though.

I'll finally be talking with my academic adviser tomorrow, preparing for the upcoming semester. I had planned on finding a house in Tempe or Chandler but it turns out that they can't use my GI Bill as income and thus I can't get a loan. Never mind the fact that I can afford payments on a mortgage and a down payment. I plan on getting a job sometime this semester or by summer, anyway. Hopefully I pull in enough to get a decent loan. So for now I'll be looking for an apartment in Tempe. Multiple people have told me that the dorms aren't any cheaper, which I was thinking of using as an option for my first semester. I'm not paying apartment prices for a dorm, though. That's just ridiculous and I'd rather live alone. But we needn't go over my anti-social tendencies again.

Anyway, this is but a brief summary of the events in my life the last 6 months. Hope you enjoyed the quick little catch-up and hopefully I can keep a more steady update schedule going for a while.

-----------------------------------
Michael Mills: It's hard to break up with her, the navy
Spider Matt: is it?
Michael Mills: yeah she never wants to give you up
never wants to let you go
or [she] turns around and hurts you
Spider Matt: I keep getting more and more frustrated with her
just when I think it's over she has something else to say
what a bitch
Michael Mills: Girls always gotta get the last word
-----------------------------------

*Yes, you read that correctly: the streets of Tokyo. I suppose if you're going to be sleeping on the streets, there are few cities in the world safer to do so than Tokyo. Earlier in the evening I decided to party it up in Shinjuku and apparently I partied a bit too hard. I vaguely remember puking in some bar, one those places affectionately known as “buy me drinky places” or “juicy bars.” I was subsequently thrown out on my ass. I found a cozy place to curl up on the street and sleep and sometime in the middle of the night I decided I didn't like that spot, got up, walked down a narrow pathway around the corner, and fell asleep on said pathway's stone divider. When I woke up I no longer had my glasses on and vaguely remembered taking them off in the first spot I fell asleep. I found my glasses there on the ground, untouched. Only in Japan. The consequence of that night was that the Nigerians who pimp their places out (and often times pimp their female employees out) would remember my face the rest of my time in Japan, and perhaps for the rest of their lives for all I know. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, though I hardly consider it a good thing. It just meant that my later trips to Tokyo involved every Nigerian in Shinjuku calling out “my friend” to me with more emphasis than before and telling me “I remember you!” as a means of getting me to their bar. The first time my friend Barker (known to everyone at work simply as Bob) accompanied me on another adventure in Shinjuku (every night spent in Shinjuku is an adventure), he was beside himself with laughter at how many people knew me. I was simply beside myself in confusion. I don't know how I could have met so many people in one night. I swear to god it was some Hangover shit. The last time we went to Shinjuku together, the night before Halloween, he was once again laughing about the first time we were there and how everyone knew who I was. “Not everyone,” I said. “It was only like a few people.” But of course, the first bar we go to: “My friend, you're back!” Hand over my face, Bob in stitches.

Anyone who has ever visited my house knows that I have a lot of books. I couldn't even begin to tell you how many, because my attempts at logging them all tend to fizzle out after about the 5th or 6th shelving unit crammed with books.

What you might not know is that I have read a very tiny fraction of those books. Don't get me wrong; I've always been a reader, but the problem is that my collection has grown far faster than I have the capacity to keep up with. I am an unrepentant browser, and when I find something that sounds interesting, I buy it. This year, however, I have to make it a point to not purchase any more new books.

This is going to be a rough year.

Now, you'll notice that I used the word new there. That's because going a whole year without buying books is going to be nigh on impossible for me, and so I've allowed a little wiggle room. Used books are allowed, but with the following caveat: For every book I bring in, I need to purge an equal number of pages. So, if I buy, say, a 150 page cookbook, something else is going to have to go to make room for it. Ebay, amazon, Half-price books, Paperback Swap.com, giving away to a friend...there are lots of avenues for divesting oneself of unwanted literature.

I know this may sound a bit draconian to some, but I'm well aware that of the books I have, only a small fraction are ones that are worth keeping. I come from a long line of pack rats, and, well, books seem to be my vice of choice.

So anyway, that's my plan for the new year - get healthy, and read more. Because the flip side of not buying books is that I need to delve deeper into the collection I already have. And who knows - maybe if this year is a success, I can do the same next year with my DVD collection...

Was intending on carving a block print this morning but the linoleum, the pencil, the hands, and the brain are all rebelling. So instead I've been looking at haircuts on the internet. Sheesh!
(my faves behind the cut)
( Read more... )

So yesterday we got a nifty $400 piece of paper that came with a new mattress!
(IE, we bought a new mattress, to be delivered on Tuesday) Yay new mattress!

...it came in the door 5 minutes ago...?

And it r comfy. Now I have an excuse to finish cleaning the room!

Mmmm... new mattress... and we uncovered the bed frame in the basement yesterday which means we can set that up too!

Yay decent bedding! :D