Army Crush and Thoughts

So, Charlie has an "army crush".

He just happens to be two years older than me, too. But I... I don't know what to make of anything, of any of him.

Well I'll start with the superficial first. He's damn hot, and he has an accent, and he's "crazy" (there's some story about how, after having stepped on a nail, he dug it out with a knife rather than go to the hospital) and has at least one eccentric hobby (it involves a wheel).

What's under that? I have no clue. There's something.....strange, or different at least. He did a tour and came back. That in itself is gold. He told me once that he had hoped it would change him, that he would win huge medals or awards or make the news or at least come home in a box. But, no, nothing has changed, except maybe he's a little disappointed now.


We talked a little tonight. He makes idle conversation, and he seems to be aware of chivalry (let the girl win the first game when you're playing pool; open doors for others; let others through first in a narrowing, things like that).

Then he told me something strange: He likes to "mindfuck" with people--to tell them insane batshit crazy stories, because they'll believe them. Like, when he was overseas, all he did was eat Pop Tarts, but people don't want that, they want to hear outrageous war stories, so he'll make them up for them.

He also said I need to drink--at very least, have a drink in my hand to show "support" for those who do drink, or show that I'm one of them, something like that. He said to get a beer next time.

"I don't drink beer, I drink hard--I don't drink, but when I do, I drink whiskey, vodka... Beer is too light, I flare up--I'm Asian..." (I ramble.)

Somewhere in there, he said, "I like to live dangerously," in his thick accent--it gave me shivers. I wanted to seize the moment and say something uninspired and crazy and spontaneously and profoundly... Silence. Too long a silence--too thoughtful or appreciative to be honest. So I put on my "army accent" and asked, "What sort of crazy shit do you do?"

A pause. A hesitation, sizing me up. "Ehhh, that's a not so good question to ask me." There was a suggestion that I ask something different. He went on.

He'd had two beer, and perhaps it was showing. It's hard to say--but social drunkenness and my empathy is another topic for another day.

Twice, he made comments I couldn't hear, and then explained they were jokes, then quickly added that they weren't very good ones so it was okay. Before I left, I told one of my favourites:

"Infinitely many mathematicians walk into a bar. The first orders a beer. The next, a half beer; the next, a quarter; an eighth. Before the next can speak, the bartender says, 'You're all idiots!' and pours two beer."

He laughed--he got it and found if tunny, I was impressed! He'd said he'd taken Calc (and Stats I, Physics, Chem, Linear Algebra, and maybe Comp Sci, because he knew a bit about Java or C and object orientation and functions...).


There's something in me right now that seems to crave companionship. I'm alienating myself and convincing myself there is no one for me and that I should get used to this fact. But instead of motivating me toward independence, it depresses me and right now I just want to scream. Or jack off--but the basement is bug-infested, and jacking off won't solve anything. Does screaming solve anything? Crying?

My own caring undoes me, it seems. If I could either overcome my problems, or not care for them so much, I think I might be happier.

Well, I'm going to get a snack.
--Charlie

Opinions

So it turns out I have some weird ideas about my image as a woman, and I never knew I had these ideas! One of them I had mentioned before: Hetero penetrative sex.

Charlie on Pregnancy (personally)

Right now, I can't see myself having children--in the future, even. Sure, aside from being beautiful and wonderful, there's probably a lot of fulfillment and pride and other great things... But me--Charlie--pregnant? I feel that would only propagate the idea that women are factories for creating more humans.

People see pregnant women all the time and--though maybe this is a bit of a stretch--the sight of a pregnant woman causes people to stop and think about pregnancy and creation of new humans. I think it's MUCH more rare for someone to see a non-pregnant woman and think, "Oh look, there's a woman who isn't pregnant!" and think about women and how they could be non-pregnant.

Another thing: in a couple joined in civil union, there's an expectation to have a child--by birth or adoption, or what have you, but there's a cultural expectation, I think. And if a couple goes long enough without children, the norm is to ask, "Are they infertile?" "Don't they want kids?" "What's wrong with them?"

Whenever that question--"What's WRONG with them?"--is asked, there is usually a lot of assumption going on. Here the assumption is: it is normal to have children, it is normal to want to have children. Thus, a couple that has not conceived must have either some physical defect, or some mental defect for not wanting to procreate.

So, by becoming pregnant, I further the image and idea of women as carriers of new humans; and further the normality and expectancy of pregnancy in women. So.... Charlie won't be pregnant--at least, for a LONG time!


Charlie on Hetero Penetrative Sex (HPS)

HPS is gross and unfair. As a woman, there is no sex organ (long enough) I can use to penetrate--invade the internal space of--a man's orifice(s). As a woman, I cannot derive the same physicality of pleasure that a man can derive, by sticking a body part into someone else.

There is an invasion of personal space--even if there is consent, in HPS, I as a woman would be receiving the (repeated) entry of another person into the confines of my body.

I guess I want to "level the playing field". There is this sex toy I've seen, the Feeldoe (http://images.google.ca/images?q=feeldoe), used for girl-on-girl penetrative sex. One end goes into the vagina of the penetrating woman, who holds it in place with her muscles. There are little nubbies that ride along her clit (which is the female analogue to the male's head of the penis). The other end goes into the woman to be penetrated, like a penis would in HPS. I like this idea--especially about stimulating the clit, because it simulates (maybe) the feeling of penetration--ie, the nubbies on the clit imitates the sensation that the head of the penis gets from being inserted and withdrawn repeatedly.

Woots.



Thoughts

I used to be mysterious. I used to be so involved in myself that I didn't care about anyone else--and people were drawn to me! I guess I started taking that for granted, because I'm beginning to lose more of myself to others. Well, I was worried I had, but maybe that worry isn't as justified now as it was then.

I used to be such a Scorpio. I don't mind Scorp--except for the crazy sex drive. It drives me nuts sometimes and I need to keep it in check.

But now? I don't know what's happened. After the Summer of Eric, I deconstructed myself and tried to start anew. I don't know how much I rebuilt after tearing down, but it seems to have held so far. I'm a bit wary right now, though, that perhaps the foundation was less sound than I'd thought. It's always hard to.....remake oneself, since we are continually adding new bits, and perhaps even losing old bits.


So, this guy...

So this guy, he's an interesting fellow, something like Neek, but more...compassionate. Neek is a justified asshole. SW is.... he cares.

Hah, I'd mentioned to SW... There's a scene in Heroes where Peter meets Matt for the first time, and Matt tries to read Peter's mind, but Peter starts mimicking his ability and there's this feedback sound like you get with mics. I imagine that's what SW meeting Neek would be like!


SW

I dunno! I've already told him I like him; and he's said he likes me at least a bit more than as a friend... But he doesn't want to get into a relationship until he sorts some stuff out--which I think is noble and honest of him.

But... I dunno?

I feel very comfortable with him--which is good and bad. I trust him entirely too much for not knowing him. And, I guess this is where the "mysterious Charlie" thoughts come in--like, I used to be him. It's pretty freaky. Had I decided that [things] were important to me and decided to pursue them, I might have turned into SW. Crazy!

But that's another thing, he's young--not much younger, mind, but...maybe young enough. And I think I'm sick of waiting for people to grow up. But I'm waiting for....something anyway, so I may as well wait for another thing? I don't know...

Besides the familiar "me" in SW, there's something else familiar about him--something that reminds me of Eric vaguely. Not that SW is necessarily similar to Eric, but something reminds me of him. Argh.


Relationships?

I've been thinking about polygamy again, and--if I'm honest with myself--I can admit that I'm a jealous person. I also enjoy positions of authority and power--not necessarily for the sake of dominating others, but it feels....good within me. Like, "I am a full human being, I am as I am, I am fully myself, I am wholly myself, I satisfy/sustain/fulfil/enjoy myself..." -sort of thing. But I do also enjoy being in positions of power so I can better care for others, and I suppose, for security...

SW is a giver. I am a giver. But I think SW is more practised in giving and enjoys it more than I, so he would hold that position more easily.

Giving is easy--in some respects, I'm talking very generally in terms of what it requires of character to give. Receiving is less easy. Receiving requires grace and...a knack for making the other feel appreciated. I lack grace, generally. About the most graceful I can get is Milonga del Angel (Astor Piazzolla) on a good day and when my fingers are sufficiently warmed-up.

But that skill of receiving is perhaps more useful? In giving, I make the other feel good. In receiving, I can get AND make the other feel good. ...My old self would take advantage of this. Me, I don't know.


I've been sitting on my arse too long. Time to do something else.
--Charlie

Me, myself and hypothetical situations

Me

Today, I slept in, then I procrastinated, was late for first class, then I procrastinated, then skipped Discrete Math, procrastinated more, was late for my Comp Sci lab, murdered time, went to the gym for a little bit, then got started on my homework, took a nap, got a coffee and went to work again.

And I realized something.

I am still myself!

This comforts me SO much. I was afraid I was losing myself again: to the military, to socialising, to my physical drives... But when I sat down and powered through as much of my assignment as I could, it felt.... great! I found myself again!

What does this mean?

That I am most myself when solving problems? That I am most myself when...
...not thinking about myself?
...immersed in something different?

This makes sense. If I'm too busy being myself, then I'm not. If I'm not trying to be myself, then I can (be myself).


Earlier today

Earlier today, I waited for the bus (a later bus, because I slept in and procrastinated with making today's lunch/dinner).

As the bus pulled up, I heard running and shouting coming from the end of the block. There were about five teenagers running for the bus. I already had out my bus pass and was ready to board. They obviously wanted to catch the darn bus, and I was in a position where I could delay the bus long enough for them to get on. At the same time, if this bus were early or fast, I'd make an earlier transfer--earlier by about ten minutes!

I put one foot on the bus, looked up at the driver, looked toward the running teens, and the bus crept forward, bumping me.

"Are you on or not?" he demanded. "The bus is for everyone, not one or two people!"

I got on.

This delayed the bus enough that the driver couldn't ignore the running teens and was obliged to stop for them.

But I wondered why I had paused.

Was it just for the teens? Did I really want to delay the bus for them? Or was I just uncertain what to do? I think that would be the harder to face--that I was just hesitating and froze up.

Or, did I actually realize I had the power to delay the bus for a few seconds? If so, why did I hop on immediately when the driver spoke and nudged the bus forward?

I want to know what happened there.

I thought about this the entire ride to campus...

What if that were a helicopter transport? What if those were my troops--my buddies I shared trenches with? Or if they were under my supervision? If the transport had to leave--if the mission and circumstance made its withdrawal necessarily immediate.... what would I have done?

Would I have stepped off? Hopped on? Demanded they wait?

The most logical might be to get on the darned thing--mission before self...

But if those were my buddies, and I were insignificant, might I have stayed? Whom would that benefit? What if they were hopeless--if staying meant certain death? Would I have done that for them? Doubtful... But if staying weren't hopeless, would I have? Would I have stayed to aid them? ... Is it vanity to think I could make a difference--that my refusal to leave would actually sway Death and save lives?

What if they were two seconds away? Would I demand the transport wait? What about five seconds? Six? Seven? In a firefight, every second counts, I understand that abstractly... And situation will always dictate action... A difference of five seconds might mean a precision artillery strike or a well-aimed snipe at the pilot. Waiting for them might even mean watching them die; might mean I get dumbstruck and freeze and another troop has to haul my dumb ass onto the helicopter.

The worst part? Until I can make these analyses faster, the best plan is to follow the plan: get on the transport, don't wait, don't delay. It's the safest action more frequently than others.

...Wow.

--Charlie

Dreams

Dream

My brother K was giving me a ride somewhere, only he wasn't driving, we were sitting in the back of this mysteriously black-windowed car. He asked me the date. "It's the twenty third of January", I said. He asked if I knew what that meant. I knew it meant something, something sinister that might have to do with EVIL RUSSIANS, and he could tell I was becoming suspicious, so he suddenly tried to put me in a lock. I managed to get out, open the door, roll onto the street and run away to safety.

I remembered my dad's old office building, so I headed there. I needed the fifth floor, but to get the door to open on that floor, you needed a trick. There was someone in a parallel elevator, who was chasing after me and knew I was in the elevator, but didn't know the trick, so I got out while she tried to figure it out.

I ran into the old office, and put special locks on the doors to give me time to find something, anything, to help me and to figure out what was going on.

There was an old car, a special car with crazy technology. I grabbed some supplies and--then the dream switched genres--cast some buffs on myself. I was like a Gangrel in appearance, temper and animal lore, but I had different powers.

The Russian vampire baddies busted in while I was still preparing. I shouted (just like Erik in VTM: Redemption) "No!" and hurled myself out a window, casting a sort of mist-form spell. It turned me into an oily reddish vapour and I streaked away into the dusky sky!

"Damn," on of the baddies said. Let's call him El. He was subordinate to--let's call him--Gat. Gat told El not to worry, they'd have me soon. They just had to light these magical candles that would cause me to switch back to solid form from mist if I came near them.

Needing information, I decided to use a little-known trick to hide the red colour of my mist-form so that I'd be nearly invisible. I stole up to some Russian building where a meeting was happening, and switched back to solid form. On the lawn, I was nearly seen, so I dropped as low to the ground as possible and was about to switch form, when I noticed something in the grass.

Little red sparkles up ahead--I waited for the Russians to move away, then sneaked closer. Each marker, planted in the grass like a reflective marker to denote driveways from the road, had a number on it. Today was the 23rd, so I picked up the one that said 23. On it was written "International Trade Day", which "explained" the presence of the Russian vampires here. There was something magical about the item, that I couldn't figure out right then, so I pocketed it.

Using mist form, I recced the building, but found there were candles everywhere! I'd have to use a different form. Luckily, there were rats around, so I changed my form to mimic a rat, and stole inside.

I don't remember what happened inside, but after I accomplished something, I had to leave because I was getting low on blood and health.

I mist form -ed away.

There were these crazy wooden bridges that looped around and around. They were on the way to some Elder I had to see.

Unfortunately, El and some of his cronies were waiting on the bridge, and I hit one of the candles that burned me and forced me to take solid form. Darn, and I was low enough on blood that I couldn't cast it again.

Well, I still had my guile! As the candle notified guards, I hid on the underside of the wooden bridge, waiting for the first guards arrived. The first guard freaked out, and began talking with the next guards to arrive. While they were distracted, I grabbed the last guard, whose absence nobody noticed; and drank him until he fainted, but was still "alive".

Empowered, but not fully recovered, I began laying plans. I cast a small buff that let me sneak better and increase my senses. Then I hid and cast a shape-shift spell on the unconscious enemy so that he would look like me; then cast a berserker spell and finally a mist-form spell on him. Wild with berserker rage, his oily red mist form began streaking around the bridges, looping around and around them, and all the guards chased wildly after him.

I took this distraction to drain another guard, this time I drank him dry, and kicked his ashes into the water. Now I was at half-full blood.

The guards finally flagged down the berserked guard, and forced him back to solid form. When they saw my figure writing, they called over El. El believed this too easy, and wondered at "my" wild behaviour, since it was unlike my usual cool methodical manner. He spoke a word of command, dispelling any buffs on the guard.

At that moment, I resumed mist form and zipped away across the waters.

I had just discovered: El and Gat weren't the only ones looking for me. Kat and Ban were on me, too.

El cursed, but Kat and Ban looked on my mist form and muttered how I was clever, but would be caught. They also mentioned a property of an Item their Head Vampire (let's call her Val) had: it would allow its bearer access to water--to gain control of water--and had such devious uses as underwater breathing, walking on water, swimming in water without leaving a ripple, calling forth water fountains, etc.

I had overheard just snippets of their conversation when I realized the guard had been flagged down and decided to leave.


Over on the other side of the water, I touched down, weak from the exertion. My health was still low, but I had a bit of blood left. However, dawn was coming, and I'd need a place to rest.

I found an abandoned structure on the sandy beach, and headed for it.

I was so weak from my journey that I could barely stumble into the shadows as the sun began creeping up. I found some old plastic boxes that looked like they could provide shelter if I could just dig a bit of a hole. I fell to my knees and began moving aside the rubble so I could scrape at the sand. Two ravens hopped out of one of the discarded boxes.

I had on a charm that would make me appear as an animal to animals. Some wiser animals could tell I wasn't, and even wiser animals could see right through it. I wasn't thinking about that, though.

The ravens were oracles and shamans. One was visibly older and female, the other was a young male, her apprentice.

They asked me what I was doing. I told them in an off-hand way I was digging a place to rest for the day, after a long and tiring journey. The old raven nodded and told her apprentice to help. He objected, saying it there was no gain in helping a tired badger and they should just eat me and be done with it. The old raven silenced him and commanded him to help, and he obeyed.

I was grateful for the help. As we dug, I hit a black object. Curiosity overcoming my fatigue, I brushed the sand around it away. It was a figurine of a crow. The old raven hopped nearer to see.

"It is old," I said, "and I do not recognize it."

"This is a great portent," she said. She inspected it closer, then nodded deeply.

"It is yours if you want it," I offered.

"No, it is for you. It has told me I am to leave my blessing upon it and it will go with you on--your journey."

I was surprised she knew. I hadn't meant to lie or obscure the truth, just to simplify my story for this stranger. She looked at me understandingly--no need to apologise, it was allright. I thanked her, and we completed my resting hide.

"Will you be here when the sun goes down?" I asked.

"No," she said, "but you have my blessing, and this artefact will aid you."

I was too tired to inquire about the small statuette, so I merely nodded in thanks.

"You will not be able to say our names, nor we yours, so you may call me Pecan and I will call you--"

And that's when I woke up!

I don't know what to make of this...

ALSO, I had another dream prior, which involved my whole Driver course, but we were defending the Armoury--which became a great grey stone castle--from its parapets--which had trenches in them--from some sort of enemy! I and my fireteam partner, RP, blew up a big bunch of baddies, but I hurt my leg in the process, then DW hopped over to see how we were doing, and RP explained what happened. DW said he just blew up some other baddies and was off to blow up more and could've used a hand, but that RP should get me to safety first.

Whaaaa?

Dang! That was a few nights ago. And yesterday, I saw DW at the gym working out. Great guy he is.



Off to see my kids!
--Charlie

Tiny confession

When I was 11 or 12, I had a friend who invited me to join the Terry Fox Run on a cool September morning. We took our bikes downtown, and the route was an unremarkable three kilometres that had us expecting an exciting deviation or hill or dramatic curve in the road--there never was. However, at the end of the event, a tent had been set up for runners and cyclists to have back or leg massages, so we went there.

My friend got a back massage, and I figured I'd get my legs done.

Since I'd thought the route would be longer and I might work up a sweat, I'd worn a scrap of a tank top and embarrassingly short shorts. The masseuse didn't seem to mind.

I lay myself down, face first into the massage table, and she began on my ankles, working herself deliberately up my calves and backs of my knees. She moved both hands to my right leg then, where the thighs join the knee. I remember my 12 year-old self thinking how pleasant and personal--perhaps too personal--this felt--but, I reassured myself, she's a professional.

She worked her way up my thigh, slowly, right up to the bottom lip of my shorts, and by then I was getting hot and bothered. But, no no, I said again, she knows what she's doing; and so she remained working on the muscles just below where my shorts ended.

Then, slowly, she slipped under the fabric.

This caught me off guard and I was in an immediate panic, thinking OH MY GOD IS THIS OKAY TO DO? But progress was slow, careful and at every stroke prepared to cease at my refusal. But no refusal came. So she slid up again, working deeper into the tissue and provoking my senses further.

It got to the point where I had to clench to stop myself from gyring at her touch. I remember wanting to grind my hips into the table for release from all that pressure building up. And, all at once, I was over the edge--not by much, but just far enough--and for an instant, I was hefted up, suspended just high enough my feet caught air--my hips seized, some muscles contracted, and I crashed down as lightly as I'd been lifted. It was a tiny orgasm, and if I'm honest with myself, that was my first.

The masseuse then worked on my left leg, with no such repetition.



Why?!

I'm not entirely sure why I recalled this just now. A few things are on my mind:
1. I'm bisexual--at least, and at most, transgendered;
2. I've only been with men, never with women, even since coming out;
3. a co-worker of mine is terribly nervous, but "Oh god, he melts like chocolate in your hands" when I gave him a shoulder rub once;
4. I'm going for a massage in two hours; and
5. I would dearly love to get drunk and have unplanned make-outs with girls.

I guess that's enough to bring up memories...

Yeah... I wonder how much significance that event had on my life... my first ever orgasm was while getting a massage... from a lady... Huh...

--Charlie

Excited for Summer!!

People and Me

I have a bit of a confession to make.

I have a very bad memory for people. This is not a secret. My confession is this: I keep records of people so that I can remember them.

Yes, it's kinda creepy, but this is how I don't forget that they have a dying grandmother. It's not that I don't care about their dying grandmother, I just... I don't automatically store that away for easy access.

When I had a crush on AHR, I would write down every little interesting thing that happened. "He gelled his hair today" is one of my favourite sketches of him.


Summer!

This summer, if all goes well, I'll be in CFB Kingston doing four months of training! Woots! Let's take a look at the money for a moment... Just doing quick calculations, not using actual numbers (also estimating on the lower bound just in caswe):

120 days * $90 per day = $10800 in four months
120 days * $17 per day not sleeping on own bed = $2040 in four months

$10800 + $2040 = $12,840 made over four months


Estimated breakdown:

$12,840
- 2,000 [student debt]
- 3,000 [one year's tuition]
- 0,800 [one year's textbooks]
- 1,200 [laser eye surgery?]
- 3,000 [save!!]
- 0,540 [misc purchases while on course]
- 0,100 [gym membership and locker]

= 2,200

That's going to be a good $2200...
Just doing the Tuesday nights, I'll make 3 * $45 = $135 a month, which should be good for food. That with the occasional weekend of 2 * (90 + 17) = $214 per weekend.

What would I like...?

• winter boots ($70)
  
• work boots (150)
  
• "walking shoes" (60)
  
• change lighting in my room (80)
  
• change the layout of my room [mirror; new drawers; redo closet; shelving] (200)
  
• fix my room [windows, wall, door] (100)
  

Also:
http://www.whitehouse.gov/agenda/civil_rights/


--Charlie!

Discrepancies

So, there are some discrepancies in the four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John). Something specific crossed my path just today: the story of Jesus walking on water. This was right after the feeding of the five thousand.

Matthew 14:22-36

Jesus Walks on the Water

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. 23After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance[a] from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.

During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear.

But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid."

"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water."

"Come," he said.

Mark 6:45-56

Jesus Walks on the Water

Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. After leaving them, he went up on a mountainside to pray.

When evening came, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. About the fourth watch of the night he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, 50because they all saw him and were terrified.

Immediately he spoke to them and said, "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." 51Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.

When they had crossed over, they landed at Gennesaret and anchored there. As soon as they got out of the boat, people recognized Jesus. They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went—into villages, towns or countryside—they placed the sick in the marketplaces. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"

Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"

And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."

When they had crossed over, they landed at Gennesaret. And when the men of that place recognized Jesus, they sent word to all the surrounding country. People brought all their sick to him and begged him to let the sick just touch the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed.

John 3:16-24

Jesus Walks on the Water

When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got into a boat and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now it was dark, and Jesus had not yet joined them. A strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. When they had rowed three or three and a half miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water; and they were terrified. But he said to them, "It is I; don't be afraid." Then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading.

The next day the crowd that had stayed on the opposite shore of the lake realized that only one boat had been there, and that Jesus had not entered it with his disciples, but that they had gone away alone. Then some boats from Tiberias landed near the place where the people had eaten the bread after the Lord had given thanks. Once the crowd realized that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they got into the boats and went to Capernaum in search of Jesus.

Just posting this. No comments from me.
--Charlie

Whaa?

Me

I go through this cycle where my sex drive is on full auto, just going like crazy; and then it calms down to the point where normally-sexy things seem... bizarre?

Like, right now, I'm in the latter stage and I was just thinking how mind-blowing it is that, for example, guys can get an intense feeling of pleasure just by rubbing themselves--and not only the feeling, but it stands up, it changes our internal body chemistry, pulse rises, the damned thing stiffens and then stuff comes out of it! I mean, people actually do this--and the seeming majority, on a regular basis! What the hell?

Cerebrally, yes, okay, this makes sense and is not really that surprising. But right now, my emotional reaction is "Whaa--?"

I guess this is a bit of a pointless post. But there was a moment just now where it just seemed so preposterous that I had to comment on it.

I'll add something less inane later. Maybe.

Oh and I came out to DW today. Cool!

--Charlie

Today

Ugh

So, first off, I'm going for my military driver license. This means I'm on course again, yay!

There's this guy from our unit, whom I'd never seen until the start of Driver. Turns out, he farts a lot, and they stink, seriously stink. Seriously. But, whatever, we all have our quirks and I'm sure he's got virtues, too somewhere.

But something weird's happened.

We're now on the second day of Driver. Today was a lot of standing in front of LSVWs, and this guy, we'll call him Fred, kept touching me. I mean things like using my shoulder as an arm rest, nudging me; and he kept staring at me! It was... unnerving (his eyes are too close together and it makes him look a bit cross eyed).

And, we had a break, and I went to the washroom and when I came back, some guys were in one truck and Fred was in the other. I went to talk to the other guys, and they mentioned with an expectant smirk how "lonely" Fred was "all by himself" in the other LS and that maybe I should go keep him company. "I think I'm gonna...not do that," I said and walked away.

Then, after dismissal today, he just strolled up to my locker, which is at the end of our hall and really, there's nothing else important there so he was definitely coming over to see me. He said Hi or something and I returned it with a very confused tone. I dont' think he said anything else, or else it was unmemorable, but he stared and seemed like he was getting ready to say something, but then he just turned around and left. What the hell?!


That kinda reminds me, though...


Dream

I had a dream this morning. I was a male gymnast and on television, I think. Except, it was live. I did some fancy moves and made commentary on them.

Then I explained stretches and ways to relax to the viewers. I did an impressive handstand and then came down and explained how I usually needed to unwind after handstands. Then, my wife or ex-wife or long-time girlfriend appeared and began to stroke my shoulders and arms, and I just melted. It felt amazing, my body just began to shut down and drift.

"Mm," I said to my audience, "but this works, too."

I sat back upright and did a few more impressive moves, and when I finished them, again, she would stroke my shoulders, back, arms; and again I would instantly relax. I began to lay on the ground--and now it was the carpet in the living room--and she ran her hands down the front of my sculpted chest and back up my shoulders.

"Okay, and that's enough for today, good bye, folks!"

And the show ended, and I kissed and stroked her. She had freckles on her arms that seemed to glitter, like they were flakes of crystalline amber or something! Unreal, but pleasant in my dream. Everything just felt so...right, so good, so destined maybe.

I ended up laying in her lap and she just ran her hands lightly over my upper body. It was amazing.


Then I woke up to my angry clock alarm. Boo.

--Charlie!

Socializing tonight!

Me

So, I've never really gotten over that guy from Saskatchewan. I realize it was just a fling -sort of thing, but not being someone who usually has flings--with guys--while working....well, it's hard for me to let go of him. Yes, he lives far away, I'll probably never see him again, if I do see him again, it'll be on a professional level; I, in all likelihood, scared him off... Yes, okay, it's my fault.

Actually, I wonder what's bothering me most: missing him, or my regrets? Huh... I think my regrets...

Anyway.

Tonight was a small "mixer" party. Fun! Gay men are wonderful. I got so many hugs tonight!

There were a few minor complications, however.

- In the past, one of the gay guys, M--- said, "You're manly" to me, in a sort of "Ooh, you're *manly*". I really don't know how to interpret this, so I'll just assume he was being a kidder.

- Creepy-Ass showed up again. This is someone who used to grope my arm when he'd say hello to me. I don't like him; not only that, I *dislike* him, he makes me uncomfortable, being near him is almost suffocating, he disturbs me and I feel almost an obligation to make sure he's not making anyone else as uncomfortable as he made me. Ugh.

- There was a drunk girl. We sat together for the last bit, put our arms around each other. Nothing more.

- Throughout the entire day, I received sooo much sexual innuendo. Apparently, I was in a foursome--well, that's what they called it, but we were just sitting together on the couch...together. There may have been some touching. Actually, we had a back-rub chain of at least three, a bit later. And at one point, M--- and I talked, kinda--well, he said something implicating, and then I just had to clarify and ask, "Do you *like* women?" and his response was something like, "Well, I'll take what I can get. I'd just have to close my eyes and pretend it's someone else." I don't know if he meant anything by that--probably not.



Aaaanyway, I have to:
- mark papers
- prepare a lesson plan
- get ready for my Stat midterm which is tomorrow morning
ALL BEFORE TOMORROW MORNING. MORNING.

Tonight will be much fun. YES.

--Charlie

Origami Platonic Solids

The Platonic Solids

Also known as the "regular convex polyhedra", these five are the only forms that are convex (ie: not hollow and no "dents" in them) and with every face having the same shape ("regular"). Hoorays!

In order of complexity, these are:

Tetrahedron	4	equilateral triangles
Hexahedron / Cube	6	squares
Octahedron	8	equilateral triangles
Dodecahedron	12	regular pentagons
Icosahedron	20	equilateral triangles

Those who play games like Dungeons & Dragons are probably already familiar with these.

Johannes Kepler liked to study these!

Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), best known for his three laws of planetary motion, was one of the most outstanding mathematicians of his day. In addition to his astronomical accomplishments, he systematized and extended all that was known about polyhedra in his time. While previous artist/geometers discovered particular polyhedra, he took a more mathematical approach: he defined classes of polyhedra, discovered the members of the class, and proved that his set was complete.

- from http://www.georgehart.com/virtual-polyhedra/kepler.html

Kepler also believed these polyhedra were associated with the elements:

Tetrahedron	Fire	It has the "shape" of fire; and there's also the fire tetrahedron teaching tool, which is neat!
Hexahedron / Cube	Earth	It's very stable.
Octahedron	Air	If you hold this model lightly by the two farthest corners, and then blow, it will spin like a top!
Dodecahedron	the Cosmos	It has twelve faces, and there are the twelve constellations (in astrology, zodiac).
Icosahedron	Water	It has a similar property of that octahedron, like it moves easily or wants to move, the way fluids do.

Origami

So I finally got around to making origami models of each! These are modular skeletons:

Tetrahedron	6 units	Francis Ow's 120-degree module
Hexahedron / Cube	12	Bennett Arnstein's Variation of Lewis Simon's Decoration Box modules
Octahedron	6	Lewis Simon's Gyroscope module
Dodecahedron	30	Lewis Simon's / Bob Neale's 108-degree module
Icosahedron	60	Francis Ow's 120-degree module

...more later?
--Charlie

Augh

Kevin

Went to see a play Kevin was in, last night.

Sigh. I keep forgetting that about Theatre Kids. I absolutely love Theatre Kids--but I'm not entirely sure why. I mean it's partly because they're analytic and observant--generally--and cerebral. I love cerebral...ness.

In this play, Kevin's character gets to cuss and be an angry/angsty gay teenager who cusses and gets into an ideological fight with his parents. I wuv it!

What really confuses me is why this turns me on. I mean, I know I have a little soft spot for that "brooding man" idea, and I love Theatre kids... Maybe it's the idea of duality. Heh. "You never could be just one thing!"... That he could be both such a Virgo and a brooding, angsty teenager--complicated...

Neek says it's probably/mostly "misinterpretation of arousal", where I associate my general liking of Kevin to specific things he does. For example, if I'm already nervous/anxious and happen to talk to someone bald, I might think that bald people make me nervous. More specifically, I already like Kevin, and being aroused by his portrayal of someone angsty makes me think brooding people turn me on.

I'm going to back up a bit, because I forget if I mentioned this earlier.

Backstory

Mark and I went to see a play with Kevin, and afterward, we went over to Mark's place and watched Van Helsing. I sat next to Kevin, and as the movie went on, leaned on him and snuggled up against him. At one point, the cat came to sit on his lap, so we both petted it, and sometimes our hands would connect and we'd momentarily be stroking the other's hand, and he never pulled away or put effort into preventing this.

So when the cat left, my libido was all, "TOUCH HIM NOW!" so I made a show of saying, "Oh, the cat's gone now. Hmmm," and petted his forearm. And then I brushed the back of my index along up his arm just above the elbow. And he pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, inhaling a little frustratedly.

I cocked my head at him. "Are you ticklish, or offended?"

"Not either, really, just..."

"Are you going to finish that sentence?"

... So, I know I wrote earlier that I was going to be less aggressive and back off Kevin for a while, but this was incredibly aggressive of me.

"Well," he began, "I'm just uncomfortable."

So I didn't explicitly touch him again. However, the cat came back and situated herself on his lap once more, and we began petting her, and again, our hands would connect. So, either he didn't care, or he didn't mind. In the back of my mind, I hope it's the latter.

This was the night before I left for the bikeathon. The following morning, I wrote up an e-mail, basically explaining that I like spending time with him, as a friend, but that I'm also physically attracted to him, "and that, combined with cyclical hormones, proximity and an ambiguous relationship can make me, well, aggressive. So I hope I didn't freak you out too much."

He wrote me back a few days later and explained that he liked me, too, but only on the level of friendship, so, hey, let's be friends.

I'm not sure this has lessened my attraction to him. It has, though, made me very aware of it. It's even challenged me and, being of a competitive spirit, I have to now damp down the urge to fight for him.

Sometimes I'll ponder him and think: "Kevin, I want to give you so much; and yet to take so much from you."

And then I wonder what I could possibly offer. Really, until I think a little deeper, the only thing I can come up with is "I want to give him the physical pleasure with my body", which is pretty shallow.

What could I possibly offer? I cook, I'm good with my hands, I'm intelligent...

I'm trying to focus now, but in my mind, I'm on the phone with Kevin, asking him if he wants to go biking, because it's a beautiful weekend, and he's saying yes, and I've secretly got a picnic all planned out

And then, in my mind, we're biking out to a beautiful stretch of land, no traffic for several kilometres around, shade, a slight breeze, fresh, springy grass; and I say, "Let's stop here," so we dismount; and after locking our bikes, we walk over near the tree line, under a dappling of shadow, and I say, "I brought a blanket," and unfold a large red and white checkerboard blanket and spread it around and invite him to sit with me, which he does; and he starts to think to himself, and I catch him and look him in the eye and smirk as I say, "I also brought a picnic," and produce a box of strawberries and cherries and raspberries and small slices of cake and chocolates.

He's uncomfortable now, and hesitates. He starts to ask me if I'm courting him, but he's not aggressive enough, so I interrupt him and tell him to try the strawberries--I picked them myself--so he tries one, and indeed, it's delicious, but wasn't there something he wanted to ask--so I smile at him and say, "Kevin, I must be a horribly selfish person, because I'm courting you even though you've already told me you're not particularly interested in me that way, yet here I am. Ever since I sent you that terribly awkward, but honest, e-mail, I'd been thinking hard why I like you, so I was, perhaps unprepared when I read your reply; and, being possessed of a competitive spirit, took it as a challenge.

"I used to think that romance didn't take effort--that, hey, if I loved someone who loved me back equally, then everything would be perfect. Turns out, it doesn't happen this way; most relationships demand effort. And, Kevin, I am willing to work at this and even fight for this, if you'd let me. I can give you my enthusiasm and pledge to you my honesty--there is so much I want to give you, and at the same time, to take from you; I'm kinda crazy for you that way. ... So! Unless you are very and unchangeably intent on not liking me (which, I suppose I could be convinced of if you were to put it very bluntly and directly), or if you have very good, logical reasons not to, I'd ask, Kevin, please, would you least give me a chance at this?"

Immediately, I'm scared shitless that he's, I dunno, terminally ill, or has a crush on someone else, or finds me or women to be physically repulsive. It's got to be the longest and worst five seconds of my life: I'm entirely helpless; everything is totally out of my control, I can say nothing, I can take nothing back, I'm completely exposed, vulnerable.

...

And I don't know how this story ends.

Change of subject!

I speak differently than I used to. I think I realized it when my friend said, "Sheesh, not everybody is as open-minded as you!"

I'm less articulate these days. I'm not sure if that's from lack of writing. I think I'm scared to commit. Yes, yes, and I know it's better to have a record than to not have one; but the thought of a record still makes me... too self-conscious? I don't know! I say things like, "Well, if [something], then maybe it's not such a good idea to [something else]."

... I've lost where I was going with this; something about how I tone myself down or something. I need to sleep.

--Charlie

Bikeathon!

Bikeathon

My best friend goes to a Lutheran church, and they have many programs out at Luther Village. It's a campground out by Kenora; it's beautiful country. Last year, he invited me to the annual bikeathon and I rode 80km to raise money for Luther Village.

Click to visit public photo album.

Last year was amazing. I had trained so much; even though it's mostly flat over here, I found a few hills and bridges for training and was on the road at least twice a week. When I realized it was only 25km, I switched to the 80km ride.

This ride starts at the entrance to Luther Village from Highway 71, goes to Bunny Lake for a pit stop (roughly 20km), then continues to Sioux Narrows (roughly another 20km) for lunch; then back to Bunny Lake for another rest, and finishes back at the entrance to Luther Village.


80km Bike Route

All distances and times are approximate. I'm not even sure if the map is entirely accurate; I guessed where Luther Village and Bunny Lake are.

Where	When	Dist	What
Entrance to Luther Village from Highway 71	08:00	n/a	Start point
Bunny Lake	09:00 - 09:30	20km [map]	Rest stop; wait for everyone to arrive; have snacks and power drinks
Sioux Narrows	11:00 - 12:00	20km [map]	Lunch; wait for the 100km riders to arrive; rest
Bunny Lake	13:00	20km	Rest stop; wait for everyone to arrive; have snacks and power drinks
Entrance to Luther Village	14:00	20km	End point; walk back to Luther Village

For the whole route, see this map.


Luther Village

Luther Village is a fantastic place. Most obviously, it is beautiful country; lakes, hills, trees, wildlife, plants, rocks, waters... Absolutely gorgeous.

But there's more!

When I'm there, I don't feel at all judged. Everything is just--"You are here now, and we love you", as though that's all that matters.

I wish I could write more, but it'd get too personal and these aren't my stories to tell. I'll just mention that my best friend also brought his girlfriend, who is going through a lot of issues (if you pray, please pray also for her, her growth, and that her loved ones will be with her and lend her strength), and we all agree this was so good for her.

And it was good for me, too. I needed that exercise, and the time to clear my head.

Will add more later...
--Charlie!


Some Photos

More...

Exercise, Women and Army

Exercise

Went for a jog/walk with Mark last night / this morning. Nine kilometres. It took roughly two hours or just under--hard to tell, since we didn't actually time it, and had to drive to/from the run.

Besides complaining and profaning, believing I couldn't continue, walking when I was supposed to be jogging and even more profaning, I think I did pretty okay! I mean, it was my first run since, what, grade ten, and it was nine friggin' kilometres. I used to think the 1600 metre run was rough!

We stopped at a park so I could do chin-up negatives (hold the chin-up position as long as possible, letting my body ease down as slowly as possible; break; repeat) and monkey-bar ab crunches.

Last night at Army, I read through the Army Fitness Manual. Man, that's useful stuff!

There were only a few nit-picky things that I didn't like, or found interesting:

• It speaks about females in......an interesting way:

  Specific Guidance for Training Female Soldiers
  
  Land Force Command recognizes that some female soldiers may have specific concerns about training and preparation for the AFS. It is well known that, generally, women do not have the same aerobic capacity as men, nor are they as strong, especially in the upper body. These differences in physical performance are due in large part to differences in body size and composition.
  
  However, women’s bodies respond to aerobic and strength training programmes in similar ways to men’s. Thus, the Army Fitness Programme is designed to accommodate and prepare all soldiers for the AFS. To help with this, three load options are provided in the Bench Press and Squat items in the Fitness Check and a special upper-body strength and aerobics circuit is provided for Day 6 (Optional). Here is a little more information and advice:
  
  Aerobic capacity • The lower aerobic capacity of women (compared to men) is due to a smaller muscle mass, a smaller volume of blood, and lower hemoglobin concentrations in the blood. In spite of this, the AFS is as attainable for women as it is for men. The Special Upper-Body Strength and Aerobics Circuit will help you improve both of these fitness components at the same time.
  
  Strength improvement • Female soldiers may be concerned that they are not as strong as their male colleagues, yet they must be able to lift the same loads. Women are generally about two-thirds as strong as men, but relative to their size women can gain as much or more strength than men following similar training programmes. The good news is… the Army Fitness Programme will lead to significant improvement in muscular strength and endurance and help you achieve the level you need to perform to the AFS. You can use the appropriate loads in the Fitness Check Bench Press and Squat items and, of course, the training routines are individualized and progressive for best results.
  
  Pregnancy • Pregnancy causes changes in physical abilities. Therefore, pregnant soldiers will consult with their Base/Unit MO ensuring no duties are undertaken in accordance with DAOD 5003-5, “Pregnancy Administration” that may pose a threat to the health of the member or the fetus. Unless specified by an MO, pregnancy does not preclude physical training. Physical fitness activities will be directed by PSP staff in accordance with the Guide to Fitness During and After Pregnancy in the CF.
  
  

  from: page 5, Army Fitness Manual: http://www.army.dnd.ca/2field_engineers/images/B-GL-382-003-PT-001.pdf

  
  
• The perspective in the drawings are horrible
  
• The drawings show exercises being performed poorly (eg: one arm higher than the other when lifting weights).
  

Women, Army

I dunno. I still wonder about this. I'm better understanding why women aren't allowed in certain groups (eg: Special Forces). I hate "affirmative action" or "employment equity", but while I understand most women are weaker than men, there must be even just a few who could make it; and I believe those few should have the chance.

I'm sort of glad we're doing the BFT now, and not the CF Express Test, because there are no exceptions, really. "If you can't do it, you can't do it" and there's nonoe of that "You're a woman, so 75% is okay." It's great:

Building on the Basics

This programme builds on the CF EXPRES Programme and takes you to a higher level of fitness than that required in the Canadian Forces Minimum Physical Fitness Standard (CFMPFS). The CFMPFS uses a predictive test model-—including the 20-metre shuttle run, hand-grip, push-up and sit-up—-to determine the fitness levels required, by age and gender, to meet the five tasks common to all soldiers of the Canadian Forces. Since the normal physical abilities of young, middle-age, and older individuals can vary—and that of men and women varies, too—the fitness standards in the CFMPFS also vary.

The AFS is different. It uses the task performance model to determine the fitness level of each soldier. Every soldier—-young or old, male or female, small or large—-must be able to meet the standards to be fit to fight. This means that to meet the AFS, all soldiers have to develop their endurance, strength, power, and flexibility to the appropriate level as shown in the Fitness Check table in Chapter 4.

The ASF difference...

Every soldier—young or old, male or
female, small or large—must be able to
meet the AFS to be fit to fight.

from: page 4, Army Fitness Manual

I like that very much.

--Charlie!

Me

Every time I get on a bus or walk leisurely, I'm reminded that I am extremely privileged, blessed, elite. I have a very capable body: it functions perfectly. I have no deformities, I was born a very healthy baby, I have a fantastic and agile mind; I am a very good size, perhaps a bit short, but, being female, I'll still grow, slightly and slowly, but surely, for even a few more years.

I am able to train myself; to develop myself. I learn, I adapt, I grow.

I am a very blessed human being. I am entering perhaps the prime of my life. Age 22 is the average time when the part of our human brain that deals with the long-term perspective enters maturity. Supposedly, most women don't reach their full sexual (orgasmic) potential until 35. That's going to be something.

Leah has started her menopause, and she told me she felt "wise", that the lack of estrogen made her feel wise and perhaps more able to understand the world without this hormonal bias. That's probably what I'm feeling right now--I'm finishing bleeding for the month. There's a lot of anecdotal reports of increased creativity during a woman's period. Is it the estrogen? The lack thereof? I'm not sure.


I have a wonderful body, a beautiful mind, a determined spirit. I am so blessed. Now what will I do with these?

--Charlie

New Work

Writing.Com

I've begun a portfolio at Writing.Com! You can view it here!

Items there:

• Strip Calc version 1 **updated**
  
• Sitting
  
• Strip Calc bersion 2c

deviantArt

For reference, here's my deviantArt page. I've updated Part III from Epsilons and Deltas.

Once again:

Film and Kevin and Neek

Went to the University's film festival tonight. Kevin had two shorts he directed; Neek had one. Both pretty good.

Went for Tim's with Neek after. He suggested I finish Epsilons and Deltas and submit it next year. Kinda inspired me to work on it tonight. Not sure when I'll finish; but it'd be very nice.

G'night.

--Charlie!

FUCK

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

I am so fucking pissed off right now. So fucking angry. SO FUCKING ANGRY.

Went in for my kit inspection tonight, and found out I'm not actually leaving this month. I'm not leaving until the end of fucking June. THE END OF FUCKING JUNE.

Two fucking months. This means, not only do I have to suck through GD for two months, it also means I'll be later registering for University courses and maybe I won't even be going back to school this year. FUCKING NOT GOING BACK TO FUCKING SCHOOL FUCKING YET. That's FUCKING INTOLERABLE--one year without school was enough. TWO FUCKING years is too much.

Only a few upsides to this:

• I can say my goodbyes to everyone I hoped to say goodbye to, for real this time;
  
• I can (hopefully) go to the bikeathon again this year;
  
• I can spend more time with Kevin (though I've got it better in my head what I want / what will happen with "us", but that's another topic);
  
• I have more time to sort myself out;
  
• I can get my army kit sorted out; and
  
• I have more time to get in better shape.

Downsides:

• I took an LOA from work;
  
• I took an LOA from teaching;
  
• I told all my friends and acquaintances that I'm leaving at the end of April;
  
• I have to fucking do General Duties (GD) for another two fucking months;
  
• I am so fucking angry right now; and
  
• I have less time to register / think about University courses.

I should also add that on Saturday--the day when I normally teach--I have to choose between getting paid for teaching (and possibly also teaching) or fucking playing with FIRE on base. I'll probably go with FUCKING PLAYING WITH FIRE, HELLS YEAH, just because.

--Charlie

Endgame thoughts

Endgame

At the recommendation of my best friend, I've started watching Endgame. I say "started" because there is so much to digest and it's getting late and already I'm having reactions to the material (it's also over two hours long).


Genetic engineering, Eugenics

I've always been able to relate to the ideas of "perfecting" humanity. I don't mean that I endorse it, but, on a personal level, yes, it makes sense to me. I might not want to have children with someone who had a history of some disease, for example. Do I think people ought to have the choice? I'm not sure. I think so.

But people are so often stupid. I'm not sure if it would be better to have them educated, or to simply limit their choices. Ideally, education; but that seems immensely difficult. I am thinking on it, though.


As a soldier, I'll need that "ideal" body. I want it for myself, yes. I want to train hard for it, I want to eat properly and discipline my body (yes, and I'm staying awake so late).

I think the military--at least, for the jobs that are almost entirely physical--should consist of the best bodies. Statistically, this would include fewer women, I'm sure; but I don't think that should be a deciding factor; there are sure to be women (if only a few) who can meet high physical standards, at least, when given the opportunity.

But, again as a soldier, I would be a tool of the government (I'll use this word very loosely for now). Morally, I can justify being a Reservist, because my focus is more local than international. At the same time, however, I may be used against my own people--Canadians, I mean. For now, I am still comfortable enough.


Brave New World

The beautiful and frightening thing about the "brave new world" is the way everyone can be happy. It's been a while since reading, but I remember the Alphas saying, "Even Epsilons can be useful," or something similar; and Epsilons saying, "I would hate to be an Alpha, they have so much responsibility". They're quite happy with being engineered and given the same expectations as machinery.

It's so efficient. It even works--in theory, at least.

It's frightening how much sense it all makes.

How do you fight that?

The world powers want to make the populations into efficient, expendable property. They have set the battle ground; we cannot choose our terrain, but must meet them on theirs, as I see it. I mean: an inefficient and emotional person will not make a very strong argument, because we have already learned to gauge efficiency and treat it as worth.

How does a slave fight slavery? By being a good slave and acquiring promotions and power? By rebelling and being slain--possibly catching the attention of those with power? I have no answer.


I'm realizing how much I want to be that efficient soldier. I used to be morally opposed to taking painkillers for headaches or illness or anything like that. The only times I've consented to painkillers have been for work or waking (extra) early for school or something else.

For a while, I was off caffeine when I realized I'd fallen into a habit of adding one spoon of instant coffee and one spoon of Ovaltine into my milk every morning, because it made me alert enough to make it to school. It felt entirely too mechanical, and I feared growing dependent.


Is it worse to be dependent or incapable?

For example: Drugs can increase ability (for example, alertness); but dependence is an easily-exploited weakness. Which holds the greater risk/loss?

Eugenics can create beautiful and efficient people, but it could be called a form of dependence--a more diverse population could better withstand certain viruses, for example. However, without the use of eugenics, population may have a higher portion of handicapped persons.

Does it come down to "Efficiency vs. Humanity"?


This is all I can write now. I need sleep. I want Kevin--I want to know his thoughts and motivations, especially on these issues. There's something....deeper or darker that seems to understand or at least acknowledge or struggle with morals or something--I can't tell yet.

Sleep time.
--Charlie

Kevin!

Kevin

Our "fun question of the day" at work was something like: "What is one very identifying characteristic or quality about yourself? In other words, what is a characteristic you have that makes you 'you'?"

I said something about me being an artist; that I analyze and look for patterns and meanings and, if I can, I add to it.

Kevin came over on Wednesday, and I asked him this question. I asked him that question. His reply surprised me.

"Earnest," he said. I looked questioningly at him. "I mean, I try, I do, honestly." He made some other elaboration I can't quite remember; but mostly, I wasn't familiar with the word "earnest."

earnest
adjective

1. serious in intention, purpose, or effort; sincerely zealous: an earnest worker.
   
2. showing depth and sincerity of feeling: earnest words; an earnest entreaty.
   
3. seriously important; demanding or receiving serious attention.

"earnest." Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. 11 Apr. 2008. .

Yeah. Wow. That he would say "earnest" as a very identifying characteristic surprises me.

I would have described him as cautious. Uncertain but "going forward" or "willing to go forward" maybe. "Just adventurous enough to take an extra step if drawn in some direction by someone else." Maybe?

There's something very fluid about him; but in being fluid, also somewhat unstable or maybe "tumultuous"--it feels as though he's fighting against himself, that the "instability" is within.

I'm not exactly sure why I like Kevin so much.

Part of it is his accepting nature. When I got my most recent haircut, he didn't stare; he didn't ask questions; he didn't say anything false--he didn't say anything! And it was...very welcome. He takes me in with no questions or expectations. I love that. Mind, I also like to challenge and discomfort people; so maybe I'd actually find him boring after a while. Maybe.

Another large part of it is his newness--he is uncharted territory to me, and I love a good puzzle.

I kind of want to talk to him on that level--though maybe I'm entirely wrong. But this is a journal, and here my imagination rules.

To: Kevin's soul

I think you're used to following or being led around. From what I've seen, you're very good at it, too. You're introverted, and "inside yourself". You can be comfortable pretty much anywhere because of this.

So get uncomfortable!

Go a little deeper inside yourself and ask what it is you want to do--what you yearn to do or experience. Set aside some time for yourself, and then seek after what it is you want--go out and search for it! Be not led by others, but by yourself!

Give it a try! It might feel it's strange and entirely too different to be "right". But you're young enough to try, and you've the means to try.

Lead yourself! Go where you choose; find yourself; be free!

I like that I'm leaving for two months. Maybe he'll be...well, of course "different" but... "more different"? Maybe he'll be "more different" when I get back, and we can begin again:

"I'm Charlie."
"I'm Kevin."
"Good to meet you!"

Is that what I want? Someone to come "back" to? To have my own, maybe separate, adventures, and to come back and swap stories? That doesn't sound like romance, but it sounds like marriage or deep friendship.

I've always "known" that I could marry my best friend--if only "romance" weren't supposed to factor in (it got to the point where he said, "I bet this is what marriage is like", referring to the way we can communicate almost instantaneously). We just have that...relate-able-ness. We have a core understanding of one another. We can leave each other and come back, and still communicate. I love that!

I think I'm going to have something similar with Kevin. It feels that way, at least. There's that sexual tension, too. I'm not sure what will come of it--maybe nothing, maybe everything. Who knows!

--Charlie!

(abandoned) Kevin, Columns and Sex

So, wow. My mom likes Kevin.

It's kinda weird; she barely even knows him but from what I tell her, she loves him! All she really knows is that he's in school, he studies hard (has little spare time to spend with me), and is applying for what she assumes to be a good, high-paying job. Woots.


Army

So, Comms went under Land Forces as of 1-April-08 (or, yesterday). What does this mean? Most importantly, for me, it means that our fitness standards have changed. Oh fug.

I did a Google search for "Battle fitness test" and these came up:
(in Shilo, Manitoba)
http://www.army.forces.gc.ca/lfwa/feature_bft.htm
(forum; how to prepare for the 13k ruck march?)
http://www.militaryphotos.net/forums/archive/index.php/t-119443.html


Reading stuff

http://www.fredoneverything.net/WomenInCombat.shtml
http://www.fredoneverything.net/MilMed.shtml
http://www.fredoneverything.net/MilWomenII.shtml


I'm reading a bunch of these "Fred" articles about women. Maybe I don't count, because I'm Canadian and not American, but if he can put his opinion out there, so can I.

I am a woman. I want to be a woman. I also want the option of being a man sometimes. I like to compete with men; but I do not expect to beat the best of them. I can accept that the best of women could probably not, physically, win in a competition with the best of men. I'm okay with being the same level as an average man; I'd be happy with being better than the average man--which I think is totally feasible.

I don't agree with setting up this war between women and men in an abstract sense--I don't think all women should be against all men. I can't stand affirmative action. But I also think women should be allowed in the military. If an individual fails, then she fails and there should be consequences. I think lowering standards is acceptable at first; but there should also be the expectation to improve. I know that's how I got in; but I also know I'm in poor shape.

I hear women make better helicopter pilots, because our centre of gravity is lower; which means we can balance better (personally), and have a better feel for when something is off balance. Just sayin'.

I'm one of those women who would like to be treated like a man (moreso in the future than now), and am willing to work up to being a good man.


Kevin, again

I think Kevin is one of the few guys who will "get" me--understand me, and even maybe appreciate and like me.

I'm talking with a friend right now, and for some reason we always end up talking about sex if the conversation lasts long enough.

We have generally very different ideas of what "sex" is.

For him, a straight male, the word "sex" immediately calls to mind "coitus" or, as he put it, "the junk in the junk."

For me, "sex" means something more like "sexy things". Included are: dry humping, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, and any other similar physical stimulation. Also, penises are weird, and although I'm slightly fascinated by them, the idea of coitus is generally a turn-off for me.

This in mind, I think there are few men who would understand my preferences. Somehow, I think Kevin could. I dunno, he just seems much more "open"; he'll, at least, talk about anything, and rather comfortably, too.

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