I am sitting in a fucking class that is supposed to teach you how to do research. This is the most pointless hour of my life. And to top it off, it is damn near impossible to submit my assignments. I have made it into college, I have passed myriad English classes that require research, yet for some reason I need to learn how to find fucking research? And to top it all off you make the pointless minutia of completing this time suck difficult? Look if you want to have a pointless cash cow class that is required for all students, at least make it fucking easy to sleep my way through!
Rant: flew over to visit the girl I was interested in. Didn't go well. Back to the drawingboard. Not that I've ever seen a drawingboard. Is it an easel?
Rave Today I caught my supervisor in his office and spent the better half hour destroying his ego until he actually shed tears. That is a first for me. That was nearly three years coming and self high-five. I'll be goddamned if I have my entire work life turned into sewage for one more second by a filthy bearded Eurotrash hippie.
Rant: So going to work this morning wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be (though it took my wife three attempts over 45 minutes to finally rouse my ass out of bed), but then after a lot of walking after being off my feet for the better part of a week and not having taken any pain meds, my knee swelled up like the SpongeBob balloon in the Macy's parade and felt like someone shot me in the kneecap with a .45. By the time I got home, I could barely walk from the truck (inside the garage) into the house. Fuck this. I'm working from home until the damn brace arrives. Thankfully, my boss is super cool about stuff like this. Rave: What a difference a day makes. Had her company riffed her the day before they did, her pension would have been $750k lighter. Talk about a kick to the balls. She's taking a lump sum on her pension and rolling her 401k over when we meet with our financial planner next week, who I have to say has done a great job for us so far. Got us a 14% return for each of the past two years, and even when the recession was in full swing, we never got lower than 7%. He said if we work at least another 10 years (whitch we plan to do, 14 for her and 15 for me) he believes doubling our current holdings is a very good probability. Getting my youngest through college is going to be the bitch, especially the schools she's aiming for. If you have or plan to have kids and want to send them to college, start saving as soon as you can. We're laying out $40k this year, our first year of college tuition. Imagine what it'll be when your kids are ready to go to the "Best 4 Year Party of My Life".
RAVE New lady friend. Things are just starting out, but she's very chilled and casual about the whole thing. Exactly what I'm after.
Rave: Good sex with a renewed FWB. Best line of the day was from my wife "Have fun with [FWB]!" as I was leaving the house. Other Rave: Getting closer in my training to being that sort of advisor/planner and helping people with stuff like that. Good class today, exam on Friday to get my first license, have some interest from people I know. This might really be a thing.
Rant: Whilst the benefits of Slow Carb diet can be felt in overall well being, it doesn't do shit for the scale. Rave: Muay Thai 3 nights a week does however. Plateau is in my rear view. Cardio has improved. Strength has improved. Punching power and accuracy has improved and I'm running every day. Rave: Being a part of this gym in such a small town makes me feel like part of the community and I love that feeling. I love living here. I can't see myself moving and I don't understand how people get island sickness. Check in with me in 6 months. I might be singing a different tune.
Rave: Well my grandfather is doing better. He has to walk with a walker, but he needs assistance getting out of bed and doing stuff like that. He is to stubborn and tried to get out of bed himself and fell, he is determined he doesn't need help. Rant: Because he is stubborn and unwilling to accept he needs help the doctors aren't willing to release him to his own care, but are making him go into an assisted living home. Rant: He got bronchitis/pneumonia, but he is getting better. But my 76 yearold grandmother who has been a smoker since she has been 14 caught pneumonia, her lungs are filled really badly with fluid and is on a ventilator. My mother/uncle got a call at 2am by the doctor this morning saying that someone should be there just encase it gets worse and someone can make decisions for her. edit: hit submit way to early
Rant: It's okay, sleep. You didn't have to stay long last night. Asshole. Rave: At least I've got good coffee. And a lot of it.
Rave: You know how cats will eat what you give them until you stock up on it and then decide they don't like it anymore? Well, it turns out the big versions are just as picky pains in the ass. One of the lions at the center has been sick and unable to keep food down or eat at all, but we figured out what med works. Trouble is he will only take the med if it's in elk meat. Elk is hard to come by in Dallas. Fortunately, it's not impossible: <a class="postlink" href="http://newyork.grubstreet.com/2013/02/aramis-the-lion-is-sick-elk-burgers.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://newyork.grubstreet.com/2013/02/a ... rgers.html</a> I've spent time with this big guy, and he's about as chill as a lion gets. He even chuffed a greeting to me once, and that's not typical for a lion. Nice to have good news from there for a change. Twisted Root wasn't the only donor. YO Steakhouse also gave a good amount of elk.
Rant Got the termination info today for a coworker/friend of mine. I have to keep my mouth shut, and let this run it's course until I've got to shut everything down prior to the 'talk'. The shitty thing is that she's good at what she does, I just think she's bored, telecommuting with little to no interface with the boss, and expectations havent been clearly communicated. I dont know what's really going on, but it sucks. She's fucking chill, and I'm going to miss working with her.
RANT: I don't do this job to throw people in jail. I do it because I want to make a difference in someone's life and to uphold the law in a system that I mostly believe in. Today, that belief system was somewhat crushed. It's long, so I'm spoilering it. Spoiler Six weeks ago I went into the field with the Joint Task Force, which involved about 50 officers from the county PD and the sheriff's office. I was assigned to the gang intelligence portion with the anti-gang officers. On the final night, we pull up to see one of my Bloods in a quiet suburban neighborhood. His parents politely let me in and he's cooperative until I say I'm going to search his room because he signed a 4th Amendment waiver at his sentencing (thank you for that, boyfriend) and we're searching everyone's room tonight. All. Hell. Breaks. Loose. The kid goes completely fucking batshit. "YOU CAN'T SEARCH MY ROOM! WHY THE FUCK YOU WANT TO SEARCH! YOU CAN'T FUCKING COME IN HERE AND DO THIS!" As he's going off the reservation, his mother comes in and he CLINGS onto her. A 21 year old gang member is clinging to his Momma, screaming "DON'T LET THEM SEARCH, MOMMA!" This situation turns ugly rapidly. He's 6'3", 200 at least. I'm 5'3', 100 pounds maybe. I look at the three officers I'm with and they're trying to calm him down but getting nowhere. Mom and Dad are making shit a thousand times worse by screaming (and I mean screaming) at the top of their lungs. The dad's screaming at the kid, wanting to know what's in his room, the mom's screaming at us, wanting to know why I want to search his room. The kid is pacing the room, screaming and cursing, and manages to back me into a closet. Somehow I manage to gently push him and step out, but the officers said their hearts collectively stopped when they saw this - if 'banger boy decided to throw a punch or get really crazy, I could've been assaulted badly with no means to escape. Finally, they manage to get him downstairs, cursing writhing and screaming, and I search. Ta-da! A glass jar full of cocaine, sealed in individual baggies. 32 of them, actually! I bring the motherlode downstairs, just as I hear "You're gonna get tazed if you don't calm down." At this, he becomes limp and allows himself to be handcuffed. He denies the coke is his. Of course. I pat myself on the back, got a good arrest, managed to escape unharmed, thankful the good officers helped me when things could've gone badly. Today was his revo. I'm gearing up for a good sentence. New felony charges and a misdemeanor charge of Obstruction of Law Enforcement. The boyfriend puts on a great case - explains in detail what happened and says "This defendant tried to fight the police and bully his probation officer until they had no choice but to almost taze him." Then he puts on his case, complete with crying momma and daddy, stating he's such a good boy! And they don't tolerate that kind of behavior in the home! Boyfriend was all "You don't tolerate it, yet you don't know it's going on." Oh, for good measure, the 'banger also has anxiety, and that's what made him flip his shit. And the sentence comes... Six. Goddamn. Months. And gets to keep his diversion status, which means he's not a convicted felon on either case. SIX FUCKING MONTHS FOR DISTRIBUTING COCAINE AND NEARLY ATTACKING HIS PROBATION OFFICER. AND! AND! He gets credit for the time already served, which means he may be out in about oh, 3 weeks with good time. I was so fucking livid I was in tears. I left the courtroom before I could scream at the judge "Next time, dipshit, when he actually does come at me and OC isn't enough, and he winds up shot, we'll have you to blame." The boyfriend at least told the judge "Congrats, you just signed that kid's death warrant. He'll either be shot in a drug deal gone bad or next time, he'll fight the police and lose." It basically shook my faith in my job, in the system, in everything I've done the last two and a half years of my career as a gang probation officer. What the fuck are we doing except telling these little thug lyfe fuckers that all they need to do is just get the right judge and they'll be out on the street again in no time? Where's the consequence for your actions? Where's the responsibility? Momma and Daddy can come to your defense and you can more or less do what you want? At least the boyfriend can ensure he'll spend all six months in jail. There's that, at least. RAVE: Tacos ease the pain.
Rant: Got my proficiency and conduct marks today. Spoiler Worst in the shop. Worse than the kid who went bankrupt and got his car repoed, worse than the kid who failed a PFT and weighed in fifteen pounds over, worse than the kid who got arrested for fighting his wife. My egregious sins that illustrate that I have "unsatisfactory judgment, leadership ability, and maturity as an NCO?" A bottle of bourbon in my wall locker and leaving my hat at work. With the new mentoring system in place, my master sergeant does a monthly talk with me. He pulled me outside, and the following conversation happened: Me: So, I just saw my pros and cons. MSgt: Yeah, the gunner (chief warrant officer) fucked you. I'm sorry. Me: Could you at least tell me what the hell happened? I made some mistakes, but I don't consider myself to be THAT bad. MSgt: Well, he hasn't exactly been impressed by you. Me: That's code for "hates my guts and wants me to die in a fire," right? MSgt: Yeah, pretty much. Me: So... um... what should I do? MSgt: Keep your nose clean and work hard, I guess. Me: That doesn't sound very reassuring. MSgt: Well, he has the final say on your pros and cons, and he's completely set on yours. I'm sorry. I'm frustrated. I worked my ass off to get where I was, and I'm looking at two years under someone who wants to fry me for no reason other than I rub him the wrong way. What's the moral of the story here? "Life is unfair?" I'm not exactly the stereotypical Marine. I'm a nerd, a pretty introverted person, and not a natural leader. But I work hard, get results, and teach others. And, well, I guess that's not enough. The people in my shop who are succeeding are loud, aggressive, "I didn't come here to make friends" (read: I'm a raging faggot) power trippers, and it's frustrating that I get better results than them but get fucked over like this. If one of the gunner's golden boys got caught with a bottle of bourbon, he'd get a slap on the wrist and be told to hide his booze in a better spot. I got kicked off my crew, threatened with an Article 15, and completely boned on my pros and cons. Awesome. I'll keep working hard, mostly because the only people who will suffer if I drop my pack are the junior Marines and myself, but my decision to get the fuck out just went from "Written in pencil" to "Etched in granite." And a year and a half from now, when the master sergeant tells me that the Corps needs leaders like me to offset the aforementioned loud power-tripping assholes, I'm going to raise an eyebrow and wait for him to ask me why I'm looking at him like he has a dick growing out of his forehead. It won't change anything, but it'll make me feel better. Fuck.
Rave: Went skiing tonight with some friends, threw an absolutely monster backflip (30ft jump, took it to about 50ft). Ski patrol chased me down to tell me "that was the sickest thing I've seen all week. we aren't supposed to allow inverts though so stay here for a second so it looks like i'm giving you a warning."
Rant: Just took me an hour to get up my cul-de-sac and up own fucking driveway. Fucking small towns who don't salt or plow past eight PM should be banned from existing in the US. Fuck that shit, fuck it HARD. Argh I am SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW. I had to wake up my brother at 1:30 AM (poor dude has to get up at 5 AM for work, too) because all I was doing was destroying our yard and our neighbor's yard while trying to get up our driveway and into the fucking garage. Bless his sweet heart. It took us a goddamned hour to salt, shovel, scrape, and maneuver my car into the garage. Why, you might ask, didn't you just park on the street? Oh... Rant: Our neighborhood has started towing any car that blocks the snow plows from doing a thorough job...a.k.a. any car parked on the street. Yes. They won't plow until they feel like it, but when they do...you'd better not be in their way. Unless you want to pay the $200 impound fee, of course. While I'm on the subject... Rant: Who the fuck makes plastic snow shovels? Assholes, that's who. Metal edge or GTFO, motherfuckers. I need to see concrete after I scrape. Rant: I hate snow. Give me ice, give me hurricanes, give me tornados, give me floods, give me sweltering heat and oppressive humidity...but take the fucking snow and give it to people who like that sort of inconvenience, like Canadians. Rant: I have no raves.
Rant: Woke up again to my roommate drunkenly passed out on the couch, with a burner still on in the kitchen. She had fried up a pan full of bacon, slid the pan off the burner, and passed out. Not only could my apartment have lit up, but she wasted half a pack of my bacon. That's just obscene. Rave: She's moving out this month. I still love her, but I definitely can't live with her. Hey, if bacon sits out for four hours, is it bad?
???: I've reached a point where I don't think this job can offer me anything more. I like the people I work with, but I find that for the majority of the day, I'm bored and trying to make more work for myself just to stay occupied. A new CFO came in last year with promises of getting me involved in a lot more around here, but he's been so bogged down with the mess he inherited, that he hasn't even begun to do what he was really hired for yet. I worked my ass off to make all of my other duties more efficient to accept the additional work load, and all I did was create giant gaps of time with nothing to do. The money's not there, I'm no longer interested, and with 5 years of such incredibly varied experience under my belt, it's really time to move on. Rave: Resume and cover letter are updated and have been sent to staffing agencies I've had relationships with in the past. The search is on, and I've found a few promising positions that I'm definitely qualified for. So we'll see. Here's to a new start.
RAVE: Nothing set in stone, but I may be able to quit the far crappier of my two jobs very soon. Instead of driving 3x the distance to work 10x as hard, I can just get all my shifts at one place and still get some weekends off to visit family. Further Rave: I went down Sunday to watch the game at my aunt and uncle's. Spent up an extra two hours just chatting with him, had a great time overall. Making plans to get down and see everyone else. Life is too fucking short for nothing but computer games and working dead-end jobs all weekend.