bite the hand that feeds
back in the day, when i was the one hour photo guy (correct terminology: 'photospecialist'), i used to imagine that there couldn't possibly be a company/organization dispensing more bullshit on the regular

but i was totally incorrect.

i like standing poow on my duty days because i get to speak into the microphone and hear my voice echo everywhere. personally, i hate my voice, with a passion, but i love the fun comments that follow when i'm relieved. 'are you from socal?', 'were you a stoner way back when?', 'are you really that depressed?', or 'best eyore impression, ever'.

it doesn't matter how much or often the players rotate in this place- it still always sucks. sucks ass. hardcore. i have a little over two and half years left in the defense business, and then i'm out- for life.

my dreams and hopes constantly fail me. everytime a big idea rises in my head i have a set scenario for how everything should pan out, but it never works. i thought i could change something by joining the navy, but all i ever really change is uniforms. i thought moving to hawaii would be pretty amazing and fool proof, but it's nothing more than traffic, rainbows, and overstimulated japanese tourist. don't get me wrong, i love waking up here to the mountains, cool trade winds, and ocean, but it's so damn expensive, cramped, and difficult to receive much needed goods at times. i would highly encourage anyone to visit, but to live here, well...yeah.

i start introduction to mass communications in october! yay, education!

when i was riding my bike yesterday after sunset a creeper of a stray dog snuck up on me and bit my ass. it's red, swollen, and painful, and even though i just chided hawaii in the paragraph above i must praise it for it's strict animal codes/laws. no rabies equals no problem. i'm definitely not thrilled about getting ren microchiped in a few weeks. i'm not trying to play into the whole nineteen-eighty four paranoia of my journal, but seriously.

my ass really hurts.
true story.