If you're seeing this, you're looking at the top of my journal.



Like most good things in life, the best parts happen behind closed doors.

If you want to join my little merry band, send me a message.

Otherwise, enjoy the memes and politics.

The moment - I felt worthless.

Money was tight. Money was very tight. I was 2 years into rehab, and my Work comp had run out. I was on temporary disability, hoping to find work as quickly as possible. Christmas was approaching.

I wanted to get Laura a camera. She had bought a camera a long while back, and she complained a lot about how it was broken, and if she ONLY had a CAMERA, she could be /creative/ again. And I wanted that for her. God, I wanted that for her. She had washed my hair when I could not raise my arm, she had taken care of other hygiene issues following my surgery.

Things were very good between us, because as I spiraled down into depression, I cast off all the things outside the house that provided friction. I bought her crap about Dave. I believed her when she casually told me I was incapable of things, I was too hurt. She had a good job that kept her in good spirits and financial superiority.

But I wanted a camera for her. And I hatched a plan to do it. I approached her mother, who is a wonderful woman and if any one speaks ill of her, I'll punch them. My mother in law is a sweet woman. I said: I've got 200 dollars I've saved. I want to get her a camera. A good camera. But I can't do it alone. So I asked her to take her budget of presents for me (She always spent 2-300 dollars a person) and pool it with my money and her money for Laura, and we'd get her a GOOD camera.

And we did. A Nikon D40. It's a good camera. It was better 8 years ago when we bought it.

I wrapped it. I was so goddamn proud of myself. We got her a camera. She was going to bloom into a HUGE smile. A HUGE smile. It was going to be everything out of the movies, when she sees that Camera.

Christmas came. I played it cool. She expected some NCIS DVDs. We gathered at her mothers house for presents. And she was passed the box. It wasn't wrapped as good as the others, because Mother In Law was a spectacular wrapper, and I was working mostly with one hand.

God, I was so hopeful. She was going to love it.

She opened it, curious. It was a big box, so she had no idea what it could be. She saw the camera icon, and it started. The smile I wanted so badly. The moment. The moment I worked for.
Her moment.

She ripped off the rest of the paper in a flurry. And her smile stopped dead in its tracks. The real smile. The plastic one came up. Just a ghost, but polite. She saw it was a Nikon D40. She never told me what kind of Camera she wanted, but this one was not it.

She set the box aside. Unopened. She never opened it.

Sensing her disquiet, I murmured that we got a gift recipt, so we could take it back to Best Buy and get her a better camera, if she wanted. She said she wanted to do that, and we took the Camera Home. It didn't have the features she wanted, she said. She said it had no autofocus or zoom. Me telling her it did, did nothing to fix it. She refused to open the box. In her mind, the camera was just -wrong-.

It sat on a shelf for a month, the box. Unopened. She never opened it.

It sat on the shelf for 3 months, the box. Unopened. She never opened it.

I called Best Buy to check their restock policy. 6 months from purchase date. I warned Laura we needed to return the camera, so she could get a better one. I still wanted her to bloom - to take pictures. To enjoy her artistic side again.

It sat on the shelf for 6 months, the box. Unopened. She never opened it.

It sat on the shelf for a year, the box. Unopened. She never opened it.

It sat on the shelf for 2 years, the box. Unopened. She never opened it.

We moved to Louisiana and it made the trip with us. Unopened. She never opened it.
I found the box as I was unpacking during our second move in Louisiana, from our little apartment to the townhouse she wanted. Unopened. She never opened it.

That was the moment I felt worthless. I hit bottom. I hit it so hard, I cracked a bit.

I told Laura then - I was going to use this camera. It was mine. I was going to use this camera, and go back to photography for myself, since it was worthless to her. That was when I first started to find my worth again.

So I opened the box, charged the rechargeable battery (one of her requests), snapped the interchangeable lens (one of her requests), then snapped a picture with the camera.

It auto-focused.

Because a person I knew briefly in Jr. High and High School is dying. And I don't feel bad. This young man would bully and taunt, calling me a queer, faggot and gaywad. Turns out, he was gay. Okay, I'll give some sympathy for the plight of repressed homosexuals.

But he's dying from liver failure. Cirrhosis. And thats not something you just -catch-. You don't just go to the public pool or drink from a contaminated fountain and -get- Cirrhosis. It's wholly self inflicted.


And I just dont' feel bad.

I don't remember the first time I saw her. Everyone says that they remember the first time they meet their 'true love'. They talk like the clouds break open and God (Pick one, any is good, I don't give a shit.) sends a single shaft of sunlight down to illuminate the object of their affections while birds sing and angels throw confetti. They talk about how their hair lit up or their smile seemed to glow like the moon in winter. They talk about how first meetings are magical and you always just -know- right then that you're gonna be together forever.

Those people are full of bullshit and sunshine in equal measures, near as I can tell.

I don't remember the first time I saw her. But I remember the last. I was getting on a 747 to head over to Camp Mujuk for my tour in Korea. She was all sad, you know, how women get. The Corps was not going to move her to Korea with me, because it was just a 2 year hitch and I was only an E-6. And really, with Shelly being born, keeping her stateside was better for the kid, being close to Jennifer's family. I didn't want to uproot her unless it was going to be for a good while.

I remember the last time I saw her. Before 9-11 you could walk right up to the boarding gate with your family. Jennifer had dolled herself up for my departure, putting Shelly with grandma for the night. She wanted my boys to see the Sarge's wife and know all their jokes and jibes for the old man didn't mean shit. Her was my girl, boys. Your little high school fuckdolls don't mean shit, now do they? My Jennifer. She did that for me.

I remember the last time I saw her.

I remember it so clearly.

I have looked over my writing in the last 4 years. I have nothing to show, really. I've done very little of any real worth. Facebook is just not conducive to writing anything of length or for offering up writing. So I am going to try and return here.

I've moved out to Louisiana, been here since late 09. Almost 3 years now. It's been interesting, to say the least. Culture shock and all that. I really miss my friends back in California, but I've been watching with a sort of despondency that I suppose is only natural, as you come to your mid thirties, and you watch your peer generation drift off to different countries and states... or have them suffer unexpected deaths. It passes, we make new friends, new families while not losing the old.

This minor post brought to you by an event I had happen this morning (Minor trolling, asshole driver) that I immediately thought 'wow, I can't wait to share this with Alex'. Blah blah blah, life sucks. Send good thoughts to Johanna, she could use em.

Man, its like Livejournal is a ghost town these days.

Anyone wanna buy some GI-JOE?


http://aelfhame.net/~custodius/GIJOE/GIJOEVehicles.html

I am not a democrat. I am not a republican. I am not a particularly good libertarian. I don't go to rallies because I invariably find some ignorant son of a bitch who thinks freedom of speech only applies to them, who wants the government out of their life but meddling in the interpersonal relationships of others or who thinks they are entitled to whats in my pocket.

I am: Pro-Civil Rights and anti-Illegal Alien Rights. I think everyone has the right to keep the government out of their bedroom and off their phone lines. I think people who come to this nation or any other and refuse to abide by the systems and laws set in place, have no place and should be sent back home. I further believe those who draw them here and employ them should be heavily penalized by a system with teeth.

I am: Pro-Fiscal Restraint but Pro-Spending Money to Make Money. Shut the FUCK up about how you don't benefit from libraries, schools, highways and health care. SHUT THE HELL UP because every day you benefit from basic literacy, free flow of trade and goods and the ability to go look something the hell up. SHUT YOUR IGNORANT MYOPIC PIE HOLE.

I am: Pro-Capitol Punishment but Pro-Legal Reform. I firmly believe that if you engage in the very few activities which qualify you for the death penalties then I believe you should be put to death as the state dictates. That said, I believe very much that the legal system we currently utilize is horribly flawed, with public defenders overworked and prosecutors more interested in win/loss ratios than justice.

I Am: Pro-Gun Rights but Pro-Gun Regulation. You have a right to a firearm. The government, in the interests of the greater safety, has a right to know who has firearms and maintain databases of ballistics information for crime solving. You do not need an AR-15 to hunt deer unless the Deer is packing a howitzer. Show me a case of armed deer, and it's open season, get the tanks, I'll drive.

I am: Pro-Choice but Pro-Life. Your body, your choice. That said: There are options available besides termination of a viable life. Such as education, prevention and adoption. All three should be VIGOROUSLY pursued. We are designed to have sex. We will do it even if you don't teach us. And thats where it will go horribly wrong.

Addendum: I am not a commie. But the more I examine things, I cannot say I am a capitolist. But then... neither can I say anyone else is. The foundational ideas of Adam Smith, the idea that free trade can replace the government based on Enlightened Self Interest, cannot actually exist, because it requires the few men who have power in such a system to be enlightened. But power does not enlighten. It corrupts.

To whom it may concern;

Chase Bank is aware of and does nothing to guard against, a very large breach of security for its account holders. Chase Bank does not verify the name on the check deposited at the ATM actually matches the name on the account.

Many times, I have signed a check over to my wife, and she has deposited the paycheck or the gift check or any other sort of check in her ATM account. Checks made out to last names that we do not legally have, but use colloquially such as FAMILYNAME, have gone through with nary a hitch. Checks made out to me, have gone through without a hitch.

Nowhere in our account information were we told we cannot deposit checks endorsed to each other in the ATM. Nowhere. Given that not one check was ever kicked back or held, we can only assume that they don't check the names on the checks.

We assume this because we finally had a check held back. A 3200 dollar check. I endorsed it over to my wife because we do most of our bill-paying through her account. It, the check, got pulled out for being too large. It was inspected, found to not be made out to her, but apparently they didn't turn the check over. So they sent the check back. It will take 2 business weeks to get the check back, but in that time, I will probably bounce my house payment, I can't register my car, pay my utilities or my credit cards.

Given this, we're in a pickle. We have a bank that has just utterly screwed us. We have a bank that has no protections against high volume but low dollar amount fraud. Anyone can write a check and deposit it in their account no matter who it's made out too, and if the dollar amount does not trigger an automatic audit, nothing ever comes of it. By the time the victim notices the money gone, the checks cleared CHASE and the money is gone.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

You can't even speak to a bank Employee because all their call centers are in the Philippines. Mr. Jose transferred me to his supervisor, Ms. Precy Mangaong, who refused to transfer me to her supervisor, Mr. Jason Adincule.

So: While I would never ever suggest that someone engage in Check Fraud, that is, stealing check books, opening fake accounts and then depositing those checks made out for a relatively low dollar amount in to those new accounts accounts via the ATM (which now nicely take stacks of up to 30 checks), I can see how such a thing would be VERY problematic for Chase.