I survived.

So, my cousin Nathan, got drunk and fell seven stories off a crane.  I haven't really asked for any details beyond that.  I found out from my mom and I called my aunt.  And ended up talking to my other cousin for awhile.  Turns out he is a truck driver who spends a couple days in Denver every couple months or so, so I'll probably meet up with him soon for coffee.

I don't really have many memories of Nathan.  He was younger than the rest of the cousins, so he was always pretty much the kid who tagged along.  I knew that when he grew up the family called him Johnny Appleseed - he had a bad habit of getting women pregnant in various states.  He was a very honest and cheerful soul.  Lots of trouble, like pretty much everybody in my family.  I know that he had just gotten out of jail a couple months previously.

I've been in contact with my son, Troi. 

He lives on the Oregon coast - well near it, in a town called Tillamook (yep, where the cheese comes from).  Its funny, I desperately miss the Oregon coast - whereas he is going nuts being in such a small town (heh, I remember the feeling).
He wants to be a novelist when he is older.  He loves Sci-Fi and Fantasy.  This is mostly what we've been talking about so far - its a pretty safe topic and something we both know. 

I still haven't contacted Nat.  I'll admit I'm rather afraid to.  Afraid of what he'd say.  I haven't had any close friends (excluding significant others) since the Marine days, and for obvious reasons I still tend to think of them as the "golden days"; I guess I'm just afraid of losing even that memory.

Desiree turns 18 in less than a year.

I've got 1 year, and 19 days left. 

16 months, 18 days.  I'm closing in on the one year mark.
After so very long, I'm wondering if I've made more of this date than it deserves.  Yes, it will be nice to have the sword of damocles not hanging over my head, but I don't think that my life will magically turn into paradise.  And I find myself wondering - what the hell will I do then?

So...I won't be eligible for unemployment for almost 4 months from now - long story of bueracacy.

I can't even sell plasma - they now want a social security card (no friggen clue where mine is).

Can't get a phone number because I have an old fraud alert on my account; which means they have to call the number given in order to set up an phone account for me.  The number that I gave (5 years ago, btw) is...yep, the work number for the job I no longer have.

There is a god - and he's a fucking bully.

That's all I really have to say at this point

Congratulations for the recent inclusion in Gothic Beauty Magazine.  You're lovely pics of J-Chan designs are there.  All but one pic of the spread was yours.

Told ya that you're rubbing shoulders with the dark and famous 

Went swimming...almost drowned.

Some background...I have always been a water-friendly fellow.  I was amphibious operations in the Marines.  WSQ Qualified.  I've done the fire-swim, I've been tied up and thrown in the water, I've had to float for 24 hours.  So, overall, when it comes to swimming, I'm not a dullard.

Which makes the following story more embarressing.

Last weekend, me and Meaux went camping.  On the way back, we stopped at a swimming hole along the Boulder Canyon.  The swimming hole isn't a particularly gentle one.  It consists of white water rapids flowing in and out of it.  The hole itself is rather small and consists mostly of a white water pool with a strong well of water coming up directly from the bottom.  Its deep.  In fact, the allure of this particular swimming hole is the rocks that you jump off into it  - about 2 stories up from the water.   

I should've known that this wasn't going to be a good day....as we get there, there is a group of teens who got there about the same time.  The leader is patiently explaining to his friends that you need to swim accross the hole to get to the place where you climb up the rocks.  He is also very careful to point out where you need to grab the rocks, otherwise you'll be swept down the whitewater river.   Naturally, one of his friends promptly does just that.

Bump bump bump...white water rafting - but without the raft, helmet, etc.

I see him go...I race down the bank to try and get to him.  He manages to stop a couple of falls down the river.  But he's on the opposite side of the river.  I get accross from him, wrap my legs around an anchor rock and put out my hand.....however, it turns out that he is able to climb up on that side of the river and head for the jumping off rock.  A broken toe, chest scratched to shit - but otherwise ok.

So, things are ok...I jump off the rocks...everything is fine.  This is the first time that Meaux has seen me in the water.
Water is not too cold...everything is great.

And then, I say one of the most stupidest phrases I have ever uttered - "Let's see how strong this current is" 
Yes...I am ashamed to admit - I actually uttered those fate-tempting words.

What I was looking at, specifically, was the waterfall.  Everyone seemed concerned about the strength of the current going downriver.  Having already crossed the river a couple times, I knew that it wasn't anything I could handle.  And partly, I just wanted to swim.  The hole is small and not particuraly condusive to getting in a good swim.  I figured, I would swim against the current and that would give me a workout.  
Only, well.....the current wasn't that bad, so I quickly made headway against the current.  And then made a potentially fatal error.....I figured that I would swim right up to the waterfall and use it like one of those current workout machines.

Those of you with whitewater experience will see where this is going....

Yep....when I got too close to the waterfall (still a few feet away) the current changed direction.  Instead of pushing me, the current began to pull me towards the waterfall.  As soon as I felt it, I knew I was in trouble.  There were plenty of clues.  First, while I don't have a lot of white water experiance (most my stuff was ocean), I know that currents at waterfalls can be tricky.  Second, remember when I mentioned that the swimming hole had a welling of upswell water in the middle?  Where exactly was that water coming from?  Certainly not from the top of the river...nope.  Obviously the water fall was feeding it.

So...I began to get scared.  Not too bad at first...figured...ok....I would probably be pulled down, and then shot out into the middle of the hole.  Keep from being banged up or caught on an underwater snag and I should be ok.  But then it pulled hard - knew I was outmatched - knew that from here on out, I'm depending on luck.

I think I went down once just on the peripheral and came back up - Meaux says she saw my face at this point and got really scared.  I scratched ineffectively at some rocks, and then was pulled under.....scared, but busy.....wating to be pulled down and shot out....failing that, perhaps the pressure could push me on the bottom and I could crawl out on the bottom.  Or maybe if it was a true pull, then I could get under the waterfall and find the airhole.  
Nope....none of that...instead - worst of all worlds.....washing-machine.

Spun around and around in a verticle cycle.  I flailed, hoping to get my location from hitting rock or surface with an arm or a leg - no such luck...nothing but water....strong current...spinning me around and around - apparently too deep for anybody to stick their hand in and catch me.  Now I got scared.

Meaux has said that it felt like I was under there for 5 minutes, but that realistically I was probably only held down for 30 to 45 seconds.

Eventually, I got pushed to the outer circle of the cycle....which slackened enough for me to push with everything I had and get free.  Now, in all likelyhood, the cycle would've pushed me out on its own at some point - but maybe not.
At any rate....it was immediately clear to me that however it was going to turn out, was really up to the river and not me.  I was definitely it's bitch.

Then again, what the hell did I expect after an asinine comment like - "lets see how strong this current is".  
I found out.

"War is a strange country, violent and often beautiful at the same time, with its own folklore and recorded history, its heroes and villains.  It is as well a profession, strange and sad, poorly paid but highly specialized.  Cruel, too.  War is very cruel...
There is a sort of complicated ritual to it, a freemasonry, a violent priesthood...
There are Marines, plenty of them, men hooked on combat.  They love it the way men love a woman in a relationship they suspect will end badly."
- "Why Marines Fight" by James Brady

Feel free to add your own - or at least the ones that you're willing to admit and the statue of limitations now applies.

1.  Age 22(ish)  Downstairs neighbor (whom I had only met once) knocks on our door in middle of night, says his gf just called cops and can we hold his collection of illegal automatic weapons.  I agree.  Mostly in hope that he will be hauled away and I will have supply of illegal automatic weapons.

2.  Age 8.  Find a bullet.  Friends and I promptly sit in a circle and smash it will rocks.  It goes of, shooting between us, and punching hole in front door.

3.  Age 22 again (and soon before the incident in #1).  Blow up the car of local gangbanger (not with him in it).  Turns out said car and house was being watched by cops - interesting conversation ensues.

4.  Age 18.  Buy motorcycle, have limited experiance riding dirt bikes - usually going down - drive it 90 miles an hour on first ride, in Oregon, in the rain, no safety gear.

5.  Age 22(ish).  Lose a hand grenade.  The coveralls didn't have loops to attach it - so I put them on a shelf in the turret.  Later on, I look over and one is missing....I search the turret and find it under the slip ring, where it has been bounced and banged around....its covered in scratches from the turret traversing - just dumb luck it didn't strip the spoon.

 

1 year, 11 months, 26 days left.

23 months, 26 days.

115 months completed.

16% remaining.

84% completed.