Of course...the deck itself has a few issues but the Sony $139 flat-we'll-rebuild-your-entire-unit-if-we-hafta-rate will take care of that...All told it'll end up being about $450 for what will be a virtually brand new machine once Sony is done. Major score. 

Put my leave form in today for my state side trip. I asked for more days than I actually have (or plan to take really) at the moment because of the uncertainty of the AMC flights. If my Company Commander dissaproves my leave because of this I'll need to request *only* what I plan to use. That would mean a few calls back here and extension of my leave in case I don't make the first flight back...a hassle I thought would be much easier avoided if possible. Well I'll just have to wait and see.

I was going to volunteer on advise from another NCO in the PAC (Personel Affairs Center...the admin section where my office/corner cubicle is located) to be CFC (Combine Federal Campaign--a charity drive) rep for the company and the battalion. "Good block on your NCOER (Noncommissioned Officer Evaluation Report)," he said. I don't care so much about the evaluation report and getting "good bullets" on it...hell the likelyhood of me making points for E6 before I get out is NOT so good so all the "superior" NCOERs in the world don't mean much of anything.

See...here's what happens. My MOS (71D -- Legal Specialist...actually my full code is 71D20P, Legal NCO, skill level two, airborne qualified. In about seven months I'll tack an "S" on to that...that just means you've done a year with SF and it usually ensures you only work with group (Special Forces Group---shorthand) from then on in.) is a mandatory four year enlistment. After those four years most soldiers get out of the army. Well...after four years most people with any gumption(especially in my MOS) have made E5 (71D20). Problem is...very FEW people make E6 (71D30) in only four years...SO what happens then is all these 71D20s leave the army and the army is short 71D20s. Points for making E5 then, is hideously low (you get points for things like military education--airborne achool, SERE school, etc., civilian education, awards, marksmenship, PT test scores, and the promotion board) Those legal beagles that stay in past four have to fight for E6 positions because there aren't enough slots for them.

Anyway the drive is from Oct 1 to Nov 16. All goes according to plan I will not even be on island from 9 Oct to 26 Oct...

The work week has been a long one so far. I actually have had a fair amount of things to do these past two days--so much so that yesterday I stayed a little LATE, and today I *barely* got out at closing time. Damn Army making me work...wth? Heh
Not to say I didn't have any downtime today...I sat down and wrote a character sketch today:

-----------------------
"Miller Light."
The short, heavyset man plopped himself down into the barstool next to me. Smoothing down what hair of his was left he sat, quietly awaiting that first end-of-the-workday reward. I studied him for a moment...out of breath, eyes dulled, back slumped forward and thrusting forward his sizeable belly just that much further. A thin trickle of sweat rolled down his left temple, mingling in amongst the dust and dirt on his face. He wore a rather simple brown vest over a simple button down shit with a simple tie loosened to the point of disregard. He brought to mind a generic machinist shop's foreman. I guessed that the man worked in the industrial section not far from here and had walked.
This rather unremarkable specimen of the lower middle class took a stained hankerchief from his vest pocket and dapped at the sweaty, dirty mess his face presented. Within moments his beer arrived, set before him by the kindly bartender. The barkeep gave him a warm smile of welcoming and the subject of my study nodded his head in acknowledgement. I caught a glimmer of familiarity in the portly man's eye and realized he was a regular of the joint. I guessed this barfly/barkeep friendship had been going on for years.
I looked down at my own drink, a vodka martini, made with a cheap off brand that did little to appease me. I threw back what little remained, grimacing slightly at the sour bite to it, and made my way to the restroom. 
I relieved myself in the only urinal there as I stared at the crumbling tile before me. The bar was well cleaned, as was the restroom, but the stank of years permeated the air. The mirror was cracked in the lower right hand corner and cast an odd, sureal reflection of the slightly warped ceiling fan. I rinsed my hands and straightened my tie as I surveyed my own reflection.
It was a 30 something man of medium height and build staring back at me with clouded eyes and blank expression, a smooth shaven face and dark hair slightly tusseled from the wind. He wore a fashionable business suit and a silk Gucchi tie. The man drew back his shoulders and tossed his tie over his right shoulder as he drew water to wash his hands. He wrangled his palms and digits with some powdered soap. Thatfeat done he grimaced and rubbed his bleached teeth with a finger, trying vainly to remove the cheap liquor aftertaste. Failing that he took a chance with the tapwater and rinsed...spitting violently.
Straightening, I located the paper towel dispensor and dried my hands, then walked back out to the bar. It was my intention to leave the bar and return home where I would absorb myself in the nightly news and probably order in chinese food...but as I walked I glanced at the foreman and something told me to sit back down and stay for a while. Not accustomed to such hunches, and with nothing obligating me, I decided to do just that.
I signaled the elderly barkeep as I sat back down and ordered another of the vile martinis. At that moment the object of my ealier study turned and gazed at me; me with my upscale clothes, (fairly) tidy hair, suede shoes, and an upper middle class air; and said simply, "Got a light?"
I looked over; the man held a cigarette between his lips. There was an empty matchbook in his hands. "Harold says he's out of matches," he explained.
I fumbled in my pockets for the cigar lighter I kept, one of those onyx butane lighters that produced heat rather than just a simple flame. I found it and quickly lit the man's cigarette.
"Thanks. You want one?" With a sudden flick of his wrist a cigarette jumped halfway out of the pack, beconing at me. I hesitated, than accepted the offer, calmly slipped it between my lips and lit it casually, my head slanted downwards to guard against a gust of wind that wouldn't come.
I took a shallow drag and exhaled. "Thanks."
"Sure. It gets lonely in here most of the time. Harold isn't much of a talker." The man jabbed a thum in the bartenders direction. "My name's George...like that guy on Cheers, George Castanza." He laughed at his own joke and smiled at me, revealing a row of tarnished teeth that betrayed how long his habit had consumed him.
In spite of myself, I smiled at the man. I offered my hand, which he shook with a firm grasp, and replied "Charles...like that show, Charles in Charge." 
My new friend let out a belly full in glee, finding comfort in my returning his joke, and shook his head in amazement. I was distracted by the delivery of my martini and took a quick sip...the vodka not tasting as cheap and unfiltered anymore.
--------------------------

Maybe I should just keep writing character sketches until I have so many fictious peoples running through my head that some earth shattering plot just drops into my head. Come to think of it...could be my biggest block to getting past those first twenty to fifty pages is the lack of developed characters...

hrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmm.

I think I may just be on to something here!

Eureka!!

Which brings me to another point...I miss Christa :( The package she sent still hasn't arrived and I've been listening to the mix CD she made for me a few years back, thinking about her.

And in other past life college years news...I got a hold of a DATter from Humboldt county about that one Ben Harper show I saw up there in '97...he's gonna ask around to see if anyone else there was rolling (and didn't get fucking DIGI-SILENCE! aaarrrrgggghhhh!).

I haven't played everquest in over a month now. I don't even miss it. I've been so much more productive since I stopped plugging myself into that world...

And finally...my advance copy of _Bayleaf_ arrived today. I can't believe it got her so fast! When I got the package at the post office I SO had no idea what it is. I only placed my order for it a week ago. 

current mood:  artistic
current music: Stone Gossard _Bayleaf_ 

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