no pictures, please...

there's a lot of things you shouldn't do angry. like drive, or dental work... especially if you're the one *doing* the dental work. i suppose it might not matter much if you receive the dental work angry... maybe just cause for extra suctioning to get rid of the excess froth in the mouth... but i digress...i'm going to have to say that cutting hair, especially if you're cutting your own, is something best done both sober and with a balanced state of mind... this may seem fairly obvious. in fact, i'll go so far as to say the sheer frustration and emotion associated with anger probably clouds one's judgement almost as effectively as intoxicants... things seem like a very feasible ideas when really they're probably not. grace goes out the window... movements are choppy and sloppy, done in haste with little control or planning... mostly because one doesn't have the foresight to think about the possible consequences......and this was the state of mind i found myself in a few weeks back, frustrated and irritated... for some reason that is not leaping to the tip of my tongue right now... fed up with being in iraq, and with a lot of pent up energy to burn off. now, for a little background, i've been very lazy about cutting my hair. it's pretty much been growing however it wants... and without mirrors i don't really care. until it hits the back of my neck. then it drives me crazy. i'd been doing pretty well keeping it trimmed at the nape of my neck, but it had gotten a bit long... enough that i could pull it into a slight ponytail in the back. ...so i'm getting ready to run, and i pulled my hair off of the back of my neck. and also proceeded to break my favorite pair of headphones. (which helped my irritation immensely) and my backup headphones hit me across the back of the neck... specifically, right where a smallish ponytail might be. i guess that was the final straw, if i had to pick one anyways, i guess that would be it....so the trauma shears were handy in the gym, and the ponytail was bugging me when the headphones hit against it... and it all seemed like a good idea at the moment... well, you know how the story goes....oh, what i wouldn't give for a cost cutters...

delay of game penalty!

in the world of emergency services, there are no holidays considered too sacred to have to work. thanksgiving, xmas... i've spent them all in some service or another... since people don't wait to call for help until after the weekend/holiday/opening of business. working one of these holidays doesn't bother me though......the ones i really try to never to miss... the super bowl, pride weekend, and the now-defunct lilith fair... *these* are the ones that really matter. but even these aren't sacred. i've missed the second halves due to calls... i've skipped now 2 pride weekends from lack of time or funds. and they're definitely things that i've missed in their full glory over here...but the other things i've missed... like riding my bike, playing softball in the summer, lounging on the couch for sunday football, getting the last game of golf in at the end of the year and the first in the spring... man, i miss those things.i got a little taste of softball this last weekend... we went up and played the F18 crews on a makeshift field they had been working on. evening out the "moon dust" as we refer to the kind of sand. you know you've been in iraq too long when you can classify the types of sand...alright... i'm rambling... so i was out playing 2nd base. on the ankle deep moondust, where i had been playing for, oh, about 4 innings. i'm walking out there between innings, and must have kicked around some sand... now i'm looking at some aluminum tube. "hmmm... well, it might be nothing..." this is my thought, as i'm leaning over, gingerly brushing away sand. then i look up to realize that i'm surrounded by hangers, multi-million dollar aircraft, AND ALL THEIR ARMAMENT. *and* i've now brushed away enough to now see a wire...so i calmly wave the pitcher over, who comes a-trotting cuz he thinks i'm looking for a lost contact. "what the hell is that?" i ask. "hmmm... i don't know..." "yeah, me either... but i sure as fuck don't want to play on top of it..." ...so there's a delay in the game while we get a munitions expert to remove the offending object. ...only in iraq...

don't hesitate, procrastinate today

*sigh*so i'm still talking about R&R... 3 months later i haven't wrapped this up yet. procrastination is one of the things i'm best at... and my mom said to stick with what i was best at...i think that procrastination is definitely a strong point of mine. people pay perfectly good money for silence and to try to slow the momentum of their lives... we take for granted that there's never enough time, never enough hours in the day. i don't really consider it "procrastination"... i just think i'm making time to slow the momentum of my life. ...or maybe that's just sugarcoating it a little. :)had "Procrastination and Bullshit Sciences" been offered in college, i could've had a degree easy. well, i could have CLEP'ed out, anyways. actually attending class wasn't a strong point. neither was actually doing the studying. this is where the procrastination part kicked in... i could find any number of things to do other than just study... like sort my socks by type, color, and level of wear......so anyways, stalling and procrastination are definitely something i'm good at. and i've been successfully employing both of those skills in delaying and detaining some significant details of my life during and since the last R&R. in short, i've met someone, and i've fallen completely and totally in love with her. for those of ya'll who've known me over the last few (or several) years, this probably sounds very strange coming out of my mouth. yes, the staff at "livejournal.com" continues to bombard me with warnings that my password is too easy and my account could be hijacked. seriously, though, that's not what happened... it's really me, and i'm really in love and really happy. except for the fact that i'm in iraq. (there's always something, isn't there?)so there it is... shew! i do promise to catch up on some serious storytelling, since i have some ideas waiting in the wings but was trying to get through R&R first. and i didn't feel like i could wrap up R&R without mentioning this... since it *is* pretty much a radical, life changing event for me. (no, no rings have been exchanged... per lesbian ettiquette, i think one of us has to show up with a U-Haul first) and i also should mention that this in no way should affect my dark, sarcastic, dry sense of humor... i promise not to go all soft on ya'll.

off to a rough start...

right... so we're back to R&R. which of course includes travel, and myself being put in very odd and entertaining positions… not that I think so at the time… but it gives me random things to write about later…so I’d like to think I have a stomach of steel. I *used* to be able to eat anything. apparently after 8 months of MRE’s, local cuisine, and nonpotable water, I’ve come under the false impression that I have one again. it’s just not true…apparently lactose intolerance is not affected by any of this, not for the better and thankfully not for the worse. but here’s a little hint, if you have problems with dairy, you shouldn’t eat unrecognizable foods… especially when the list of ingredients is also unrecognizable. (yeah, I don’t read dutch either…) in the effort of giving fair warning, i'm assuming that no one is reading this post while eating. because, like a lot of things i say... it's probably not great dinner conversation. but for those of you who were eating, i'd suggest coming back to this post later... like after dessert. needless to say, I was having some GI issues when we landed in dubai. as a side note… dubai isn’t like traveling through, say, chicago-o hare. first off, very few people speak english. signs are useless, unless you read Arabic or can make sense out of the broken english-esque language. and western people, especially women, stick out like republicans at pride. about half stare, and the other half consciously try to avoid eye contact… anyways, what I’m trying to say is it’s just different here, and I’m way out of place. oh, and as another side note… per the local culture, they have daily public prayers. it’s kind of crazy, how the corridors will suddenly be deserted, and overhead on the sound system is this 2 minutes worth of singing/chanting in Arabic. where do they go, you ask? …some go to mosques, which about as abundant as Baptist churches in the south, and have 20 minute prayer parking out front for your convenience. in other public places, malls… airports and so on, they have prayer rooms. seems that the men have theirs and the women have their own. apparently coed praying is not acceptable. makes the amish look like heathens. but I digress….…so these prayer rooms in the dubai airport are located adjacent to the bathroom… kind of a one stop shop. the Arabic sign could possibly say “Pee and Pray” and I wouldn’t know the difference. so I’m off the flight, and waiting for my luggage I’m not feeling all that great. if I were in the middle of the woods, I wouldn’t be wasting time picking out a good spot, any bush would do. so I’m doing the “shuffle/sprint” to the nearest restroom. (you know the one I’m talking about… don’t act like you don’t.) now, 3 flights had just off loaded, and I figured it was just my luck that I needed a bathroom and it was at full capacity. it was a sea of cloaked women. I was beyond desperate… handicapped stall, large sink… explosive diarrhea doesn’t wait. so the end door opens and I nearly run over someone’s grandmother in the race against time. I slam the door, drop my bag, and as I’m fumbling with my belt I turn around to see that I’m in the hodji style bidet stall. there’s a tile floor with a 6” diameter hole in the ground… with little grooved areas to indicate where you’re supposed to put your feet to perch. oh, and a nozzle. so now I’m trying to unbuckle my belt and think at the same time… how do the hodji’s *do* this? there should really be instructions posted… there’s got to be a trick to not making a mess all over your pants without completely removing them. of course, the instructions would be in Arabic most likely…so I didn’t know the accepted squatting technique, but I knew I was going to learn in a hurry. so the pants, being the only ones I had with me, came all the way off. of course, the shoes had to come off first… so we did that. and I could just see myself slipping on the tiles in my socks, cracking my head against the wall and getting myself stuck to the ankle in this little hole… so they came off… better traction barefoot. I was stripped waist down in a matter of seconds… I’m pretty sure it would take longer to get actively flaming clothes off of me.…and then the prayers start. which I’m actually thinking is a good thing for a couple of seconds, cover noise is always appreciated with an impending explosion. I just wasn’t, um, exploding like I was used to. I think it was the squatting position… it was delaying the process. and then the prayers were over. and the silent meditation started. ever seen the movie “american pie”? probably 40 or so women piled into the next room with no door to divide us… obviously trying to have a pious experience… and I was trying so hard to let them. I really was. I held it until I couldn’t anymore, then all hell broke loose… like some candid camera bit. to add insult to injury… I had to figure out how to use the sprayer. nope, no toilet paper. now, with a fire extinguisher we teach people how to do a little “test squirt” to make sure it’s charged and works and you’re familiar with the reach of the stream before you approach the fire. *this* would’ve been a great strategy… too bad it’s not the one I employed. on a positive note, I was very glad I had removed my pants and shoes… but I wished I had removed my shirt as well, because I managed to drench that also. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to dry with… so pretty much I was stuck drip drying. the good news is that it gave all 40 or so prayer goers plenty of time to clear out and leave me alone with my shreds of dignity. what a crappy way to start my R&R. (i couldn't resist... sorry.)

about the toe...

alright, so I got asked about the toe… yes, I broke my toe on R&R. my pinky toe, to be specific. enough to make me uncomfortable, and screw up my cardio for 4 weeks or so, but not enough to make me quit working. and no, I don’t even have a cool story to go with it…you see, almost all my injuries are born of either a.) clumsiness on my part or b.) poor judgment on my part. (“poor judgment” sounds better than “stupidity”) in this case, it would be clumsiness. I was walking, barefoot, through my friends’ kitchen and caught just my pinky toe on the corner of the island of cabinets. I was slightly distracted, as I was waiting for the beep on someone’s voicemail. I can’t remember for the life of me who I was calling, but there I was, phone pressed to my ear… and *thwack* broke my toe. following the split second it took for my brain to register the pain in my foot, the tone for the voicemail of course sounded. imagine the sound made by the simultaneous sharp slow gasp of breath, and the sound of a person groaning in pain. did it sound kind of like a poorly maintained oboe being played by someone inhaling? …cuz it should’ve. this is the sound someone got at the beginning of their message…now, of course I couldn’t just hang up. caller id would’ve given me away, and they would’ve returned my call just to tell me I need to work on my prank calls and heavy breathing. no, of course I felt the need to try and compose myself and leave a message… not real sure how that went, but I’m guessing not well. so the lesson learned is: no… I, in fact, cannot walk and talk at the same time. the proof is out there.

two months...

two months ya'll... i'm on the downhill slide of my year. i've (of course) got some catching up to do with my entries, but i think i finally got my email almost under control, so my personal "to do" list is getting shorter... more to come (really).

it coulda been worse...

coulda, shoulda, woulda… i really don’t like thinking about unrealized potential like that. it’s kind of hard not to sometimes though. i've been messing around with the guitar since i left college. i've never really had anyone to play with, and my musical talent is pretty minimal. basically, i've struggled for most every little skill i've learned……pilcher and i have been playing for a couple of months now. he really doesn’t have any inbred musical genius either… we’re both doing it for fun. but seriously, he basically learned in two evenings a song that took me probably a year… to piece together, to learn, to polish. he’s so much faster at picking it up from me than i am, trying to learn it from a piece of paper and listening to recordings... i really think it's a matter of time until he absorbs everything i know… and i can’t learn fast enough to keep having more for him. but of course, i'm not one of those people to try and hold something back for themselves… i don’t need to *look* important. i *am* important. and arrogant. :) i was always told that the learning curve was much faster if you had someone to play with… i just never thought it was that extreme.of course, all this makes me wonder in retrospect where i might be at if i would’ve been playing with someone who challenged me. …apparently, not that far.we were sitting outside playing the other night… it’s getting warm here, so it felt like a late summer night, with a nice breeze. so it’s just the two of us, and we’re playing “you were meant for me” by jewel. now, remember the discussion over how i really can’t sing something by smashing pumpkins? well, jewel really isn’t pilcher’s range or style. admittedly, the range is a stretch for me… but really, it’s just for fun… and for the interest of learning and getting the timing down, it’s one of the ones i sing. …so the breeze is blowing, we’re playing, i'm singing… and ack comes out to smoke. (just to set the scene, ack was in the process of quitting to go home and is a very unhappy person right now.) he proceeds to interrupt us mid verse and tell me that i “really just need to lay off the high notes, because it really doesn’t sound good.” of course, we didn’t miss a beat and finished the song regardless… …now, i know it’s not my best… and yes, it’s out of my range. so we won’t submit that one to american idol, ok? i can also absorb where it’s coming from, and see his state of mind behind it, even if i don’t really understand the motivation. but why would you say something like that to someone? not a big deal to say it to someone like me… i never really cared what he thought of me one way or the other. i won’t say it didn’t sting, because of course it did… that’s what it was meant to do. but what if frankie would’ve been the one singing? he’s sensitive about his voice as it is… it took weeks just to get him to try… even just singing along with me. what kind of damage would that have done? i think something like that might have seriously hurt his feelings, if not broke his heart. i guess ultimately i'm glad it went the way it did…

what a way to end the month...

i heard that one of my favorite teachers growing up recently passed away. of course, being 6000 miles away, i heard about it well after the fact. Mrs. Freeburg was an incredible woman, one of the most influential people in my life. she taught me 8th grade. i remember being absolutely intimidated by her before i was her student, and then not remembering why i used to be so intimidated once i knew her. she was my first taste of grasping a big picture of what was going on in the world, in life. in seeing patterns of social and individual behavior. in the ability to work within a system because you believe in what it can become, not because you share in all the existing components. and in the ability of a person to adapt and overcome. you see, Mrs. Freeburg had muscular dystrophy. i don’t know what it was like for her when she first found out… i don’t know how well she adjusted, how hard it was for her. i know that when i knew her, i saw an incredibly intelligent, strong, gifted woman… who came to work every day and climbed 3 flights of stairs with the cane in her hand, who was loved and respected by her students. i got to visit once with her after she had retired… during my college years. i don’t remember what was said… but i remember leaving with the feeling that i hadn’t said everything i wanted to. funny how you can have the exact same feeling again years later… i don’t even know what i would want to tell her… would i thank her? would i tell her what i truly thought of her? would i find out how she was doing? would i want to tell her that i turned out ok? what i'm doing now? …i dunno… just one of those things that you feel something is missing…which makes me wonder if she would even remember me. with that many students over that many years… I’m sure most every student remembers the teacher, maybe even fondly. I’m sure teachers don’t remember every student. was I memorable in 8th grade? would I *want* to be considered memorable at that age? …buddhist philosophy focuses on the view of no birth, no death. that every sentient being is tied to another… that death is not an end. that parts of ourselves are manifested in other people, because of how and what we share with others, to go on through them. i believe there is a lot of Mrs. Freeburg still in this world, and the world is better for it.

...the new american sport

well, the olympics are almost over. and with it another spontaneously popular sport will drop into obscurity... at least for another few years. of course, i'm talking about women's curling...(duh, what ELSE would i be referring to?!)so the fire station... and by that i mean all the guys in it... have fallen in love with the US women's curling team. in 4 days, they went from knowing nothing about the sport (what is that? shuffleboard?) to resident experts. they know rules, terms, even what a good shot (i'm sorry, not a shot... a "curl") is. they know the players by name. and you ask why...?...come on now, dig deep, you know the answer. why did they get hooked on the L word right away? cuz the chics were hot. and so was the US women's curling team. hot, blonde, and flexible. and you've got the johnson twins... or sisters... whatever. Jessie and Cassie. reason enough for us all to sit down every night for a couple of hours and watch curling. ok, so it bears to mention that when it's prime watching hours over here... it's like 0400 in the morning over there. so what we're really watching is the crap ya'll don't want to be bothered with. except for the 14 diehard fans who get up at 4 am to watch. not that i know anyone like that... :)

...just a good thing they weren't auctioning cake...

with the new dispatch rotation, everyone has to do one week of dispatching every 2 or 3 months. this is my week. i hate sitting still for this long. there is not enough email sent to me, or things i want to look up on the internet... there is no way i'm going to be entertained for 12 hours at a time for 7 days. that doesn't stop me from trying......i've bought guitar strings, pretty well caught up on email, and have surfed as much as the firewall will let me. i even found the end of the internet. i'm pretty sure it's the end, or a sign the end is near anyways. it's called www.yetisports.org ...countless hours of fun batting penguins. i am assured, however, that no penguins were hurt in the making of these games... ...where i got into trouble was ebay. it all started innocently enough. i bought a pair of flip flops that i had ordered months ago and never got delivered. i guess they were backordered for so long that they decided to cancel the order. so anyways, i got a heck of a deal on the flip flops i wanted. then i decided to followup with my desire for an xbox. ...if you remember, i came damn close to buying a PS2 with the DDR pack a while back. it would've involved buying a tv, and spending $199 was more than i wanted to do. well, i scored a small tv for free over the last couple of months. and i like the xbox better. (and, fyi, they also make DDR for the xbox... it's important to note) and, i can use it as a dvd player...the dvd player option probably doesn't seem real important... after all, i've been playing dvd's on my laptop for 9 months now, right? well, what i've learned is that some dvd's feel the need to add noise to their root menus. not such a big deal when you start the movie... but when you fall asleep to, let's say for example, "harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban" and wake up after 4 hours of the little jamacian shrunken head saying "watch da pea soup...ya bettah eat it before it each-u!" ...well, you wake up from som pretty fucked up dreams. another one is the beginning to "finding nemo". ellen degeneres's voice might not be a bad thing to sleep to... some people might like it. don't knock it till you try it. however, i could do without the "just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." song. but i digress. the point is that the tv has a timer. not, contrary to popular opinion, that i need the remote control. my room is 5' by 9'. i'm not that lazy...wow... so where was i going with this? oh yeah, so i bought an xbox. and with a total of 4 games on their way to me... i will be more than set for the next 2 months. however, if "john madden's football 2006" contains his pearls of wisdom narrated by Captain Obvious himself... well, i'll have to learn to play in the mute mode...

...so i have to tell you

... i know, i still have to talk about R&R a little. it was great, just to be out of the sandbox for a while. class took up a lot of the time, as did recovering from jet lag... but you'll have that. what blew me away, though, was when i went to the mall...i didn't really have this problem my first R&R. maybe it was because it had just been under 4 months since i left and now it was closer to 9... maybe it was because i spent some quality time in Victory where there's more surroundings and things to experience. regardless, we were walking through the new WDSM mall... i needed a nice jacket. i was looking to replace my black leather jacket which has gone AWOL... which led us through a few dept stores. i felt like my eyes were being pulled in every direction at once... there were too many signs and colors and marketing gimmicks. it was really overwhelming. and let me tell you, apparently small men don't wear leather jackets, cuz we were having a hell of a time finding one i liked. and then when we found one, it turned out to be lambskin. i dunno, i'm not real sure i'm ok with wearing a baby lamb. (which i remarked out loud...) to which the reply i got from present company was, "well, maybe they were adult lambs." um, those would be "sheep". :) but i digress...so when i wasn't too exhausted to care, and i started paying attention to the chaos going on in my brain... i started realizing how overstimulated and tense i was. bright lights, unpredictable motions, strange sounds, heavy traffic, bags and coats left unattended... it was just too much. i really wanted to just not go anywhere, and not do anything. it kind of felt like the first time i went to vegas... except back then i felt entertained and dazzled. ...they say it's just a matter of time till you get reaccustomed to all that. i don't think 10 days is sufficient for overcoming jet lag, much less the hyperstimulation. luckily, my EOC is longer. and i'm going through the crash course of reintroduction to western society...

well, were did THAT come from?

it was brought to my attention over R&R that i write a lot about my bathroom experiences. it’s true, there is a lot of amusement to be found in the predicaments i find myself in while in restroom facilities. more so, i think it’s a sign of how little there is to do out here. it's really just not very exciting. we eat at the dfac… which i’ve written various things about, we sleep… which there’s not much there to comment on, and we use the bathrooms. really, it’s a universal experience… one we all have and no one bothers to talk about. …kind of like those thoughts that keep you awake at night. not the big ones, like money, or living in a warzone, or the one that got away… the stupid little ones that come to you out of nowhere, that you haven’t thought of in a long time. but there you are, drifting in that space between “sleep” and “not sleep” and there it is… “remember the time your college roommate caught you dancing naked in front of the mirror?” “remember the time you blanked on your softball coach’s last name and dungy thought you were a dumbass?” “remember when you laid your bike at about 2 mph in front your friends?” awww, man… i haven’t thought of that in a long time. and then of course the next thought… “i wonder if THEY remember that?” which is an absolutely ridiculous question… of course they do. but really, i don’t even talk to that college roommate anymore, i wouldn’t even know how to get a hold of her, so does it matter? it seems to be the instances where you do or say something stupid in front of someone you want to impress… anyways, for some reason, it sticks with you and you’re wondering how strange they must think you are. i don’t know if you do this or not……so yes, i write about experiences i think someone might relate to, or laugh at. occasionally random things will come to mind, and if i feel like putting it down on paper…well, it’s my journal. i can do that. so there. and if most of my experiences out here center around the bathroom or working out… well, what else are you supposed to do in iraq?

you're going to have to excuse me...

...i haven't written in a month. a full month. and while i have so much to say, i'm still having a hard time making it all tie together in my head. ...so what comes out here for the next few days is like the foam when you first tap a keg. you got to drain off a few pitchers full of crap before you get to the good stuff. so if it sounds like i'm rambling and not really getting to my point... well, duh, of course that's what's going on. you act like you've never read me before! ...but in my defense, it's going to take a couple of days to get rid of the foam and back into a rhythm, so bear with me.

i dunno...

i was terribly nervous to go home the first R&R. i talked a little about the anxiety i was harboring over people having access to a lot of my thoughts and feelings… unlike they had previously had before. i’m not sure what exactly changed in 5 months, but those reservations and concerns weren’t there this time……i’m going to have to do some reading and see what i’ve written in the last few months. was i sharing more of myself and opening myself up more the first few months? that was, ultimately, one of my goals… have i shied away from that? i write a lot about the humor i find… did i get so far away from entries with significant meaning or insight? if that’s true, it could certainly be the reason i didn’t feel vulnerable this time……or maybe i’ve just grown familiar with how it feels? maybe i don’t feel as close to some of the people i did before. maybe i figured out that it’s not so bad to be vulnerable……it always grounds me to find out that someone reads these. especially if i don’t know them very well, or maybe they’re a friend of a friend… but to find out they get some enjoyment out of what i write… that i brightened their day… well, it makes my day. it makes me feel very humble, and surprised… but it gives me warm fuzzies to know i could do that for someone. …and you’ve also got the people i’ve been close to for years, who are getting to know me a little bit more and a little bit differently every entry i write. i forget how deep these can get sometimes, and i think i forget that they read them… until something is said……like an offhand comment when i’m cooking breakfast about how if i throw the bacon in the microwave, it’ll come out really crispy – just like i like it. i stopped dead in my tracks, shocked that someone, ANYONE would know that. you know, when i had a girlfriend i made a purely conscious effort to try and remember her favorite soda, or what she orders at starbucks… but a friend i’ve never eaten breakfast with in my life knows that i like my bacon extra crispy?! i was speechless… and ya’ll know it takes a lot to make me speechless…

...this is just the teaser...

...the one you get during commercials, that convinces you to be home for "must see tv" on thursday night... cuz ER is all new and something big is going to happen. that's my way of saying, "i'm not going to tell you anything good in this entry... just to stay tuned for the upcoming ones, or you might miss something." like what, which brand of baby wipes i don't recommend for adult bathing purposes? ...you just never know, that's the point...so anyways... i'm back from R&R, settled and almost over the jet lag. home again, for another 90-ish days. i have so many things i want to tell ya'll... where do i begin? my firehouse has completely changed... we've now split into 3 stations... our overcrowding of 50 people in one station has dropped to 15 in the station i'm in. the morale has skyrocketed, the leadership has improved... i hardly know what to make of it except to enjoy it while it lasts...i'm back to riding backwards on an engine... which is awesome. i'm delta seat on a makeshift "rescue engine"... we're carrying minimal rescue tools since heavy rescue went to the flightline and we're not slated to get a medium rescue for another 6 months. i'm ok with that...with the low staffing levels, we've gone to 7 16's until further notice, which means i get no days off. unfortunately, i'm battling allergies or some sort of illness, sleeping for a full day would be awesome...and i can't seem to get motivated right now to start a fitness program... my cardio went to hell when i broke my pinky toe over R&R... brand spanking new ugly ass running shoes and i can't use them. so stay tuned, i know it's been damn near a month since i wrote... but of course i've got a few good travel stories, and some other surprises...