Posted on January 20, 2006
Which will be a trifle less like musings and a bit more like the cribbings of a time-starved madman.
You get what you pay for.
They say that the Chinese word for “crisis” is a blend of the characters meaning “danger” and “opportunity.”
I wonder if that’s true, or just one of those bulls!t things “they” say.
Occasional reader Bou sends this clip along, which goes a long way towards explaining why the Navy at least gets flight pay. (click on the pic for a 3.2 meg mpg file)
Someone got just a little too excited over that whole “right for lineup thing.” Is my guess.
The whole week in Norfolk and I’m sitting 5 11-year olds while the Hobbit enjoys a quiet night out with the girls. How unfair is that?
You ever feel like you’re holding on to the whole of your slippery reality with just your fingertips? Like you’ve got nothing left to throw on the fire? Zero excess capacity? Like everything might fall to dust and ruin if you so much as stumble, trip and fall?
I’m pretty much feeling that way all the time now. Could just thump myself for thinking that maybe it’d be a good idea to pursue a MS in SE while working a full time job, raising teenagers in San Diego, etc.
Don’t feel sorry for me though.
I’ll always have Paris.
Paris? Yeah – first tour of duty after graduation was to spend the summer in Tours (and weekends in Paris) learning la belle langue. Which it was a language scholarship, wasn’t it? Three months and six thousand dollars, which let me tell you, went a hell of a long way for a single ensign, whose basic requirements were pretty easily satisfied back in 1982, what with francs going 8.1 to the dollar.
This Navy gig, said your humble scribe. Pretty derned cool!
Watch the movie again, and reflect on yin and yang.
Oh. Those five 11-going-on-12-year olds ? Went missing while I was busy doing summat else, and momentarily distracted. Amazing that I didn’t notice, but it’s kind of like the dog that didn’t bark. Had a strangely hasty, agitated cuppla while trying to figure out what the hell had happened. And where had they gone?
Tracked them down not far away, the rascals, a-going for a stroll. And as it turns out, there were a couple of 11-year old boys there, God help them for having no idea what the ladies are about to put them through over the course of the next several.
I of course had a moment’s déjà vu, all over again. Oh, but I shall be so very much better prepared this time, gentle reader. No surprises. No illusions.
But you know, if you wanted to, you could, em… Pray for me anyway.
That’d be OK.