When Karma Strikes!
I did some laundry this afternoon. Someone took my stuff out of the dryer, and it was still damp. From such evidence, I deduced that he knew full well better than to take my stuff out. Rather than being a good Samaritan and re-starting the dryer for me for a few minutes, he just dumped my clothes on top of it and put his in. Once I'd realized the situation, I did the next irrational thing I could think of.
I opened the dryer door, leaving him with a huge bundle of wet clothes of his own.
As fate would have it, I tried installing the washer and dryer at my house today, and in a twist of stinging payback, there was no extension hose for the dryer exhaust, so I couldn't fully install it.
Touche, mon Dieu.
I did some laundry this afternoon. Someone took my stuff out of the dryer, and it was still damp. From such evidence, I deduced that he knew full well better than to take my stuff out. Rather than being a good Samaritan and re-starting the dryer for me for a few minutes, he just dumped my clothes on top of it and put his in. Once I'd realized the situation, I did the next irrational thing I could think of.
I opened the dryer door, leaving him with a huge bundle of wet clothes of his own.
As fate would have it, I tried installing the washer and dryer at my house today, and in a twist of stinging payback, there was no extension hose for the dryer exhaust, so I couldn't fully install it.
Touche, mon Dieu.
Well, I screwed the pooch as far as logistics goes 
I told my buddy she could store some of her junk at my massive new on-post house, because I thought that the fam and I might need some spare furniture until the movers arrived with our own. Well, said buddy just had her movers drop the stuff off, and now I'm paying the price for not asking exactly what she had. Most of it fits, and I can store it for her, but she has a washer and a dryer. Forgetting that she was in a long-term relationship (that went south) just before we deployed, I never assumed she'd have any massive goods to store.
Like a fucking washer/dryer set.
(we already have a washer and a dryer)
My only hope is that she ends up shacking up with her new beau, who's a really cool fella. Unless they learn to hate each other on vacation together, they'll no doubt be getting an apartment within a few months. Hopefully, I can keep the wife at bay until then, although we talked about it several times, and it seems to be acceptable as long as it's not long-term (like until we go to Iraq in a year and change).
Oh well, I guess in the long run, I was just trying to do something good, and it backfired, which doesn't usually happen, so I'll not be lost on good deeds over this little miscalculation.
I still have to clear out my barracks room and get packed for leave. I can't wait to get back to the Northwest and away from this froze wasteland, even if it's only for a week or so. Driving cross-country isn't a thrilling prospect, especially in the winter, but at least I'll be with the wife and kids.
I told my buddy she could store some of her junk at my massive new on-post house, because I thought that the fam and I might need some spare furniture until the movers arrived with our own. Well, said buddy just had her movers drop the stuff off, and now I'm paying the price for not asking exactly what she had. Most of it fits, and I can store it for her, but she has a washer and a dryer. Forgetting that she was in a long-term relationship (that went south) just before we deployed, I never assumed she'd have any massive goods to store.Like a fucking washer/dryer set.
(we already have a washer and a dryer)
My only hope is that she ends up shacking up with her new beau, who's a really cool fella. Unless they learn to hate each other on vacation together, they'll no doubt be getting an apartment within a few months. Hopefully, I can keep the wife at bay until then, although we talked about it several times, and it seems to be acceptable as long as it's not long-term (like until we go to Iraq in a year and change).
Oh well, I guess in the long run, I was just trying to do something good, and it backfired, which doesn't usually happen, so I'll not be lost on good deeds over this little miscalculation.
I still have to clear out my barracks room and get packed for leave. I can't wait to get back to the Northwest and away from this froze wasteland, even if it's only for a week or so. Driving cross-country isn't a thrilling prospect, especially in the winter, but at least I'll be with the wife and kids.
We are so snowed in, it's not funny. We can't even order delivery food, the weather is so bad. The snow outside is about four feet so far, and it's still coming down. Seriously, it looks like The Thing outside right now.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy 
Our command gave us a four-day weekend, and we had about a day to revel in sheer anticipation until copious volumes of snow began to dump all over the North Country without mercy or end. It's still snowing as I write, and we're trapped in the barracks with nothing to do. I can't even go out and buy coffee, and that makes it personal
Naturally, with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and a diverse arsenal of well-proofed beveriges and spirits, we spent the last 48 hours gently working ourselves into a respectable stupor. One of my friends took it upon himself to buy enough booze for a small cabinet, and I spent the first evening showing everyone how to make a gin and tonic (with every third jigger to myself as a service fee). After I'd successfully converted a large part of the masses over to the dark side (gin-I don't know why people hate it so much..), I finished the night off sipping down half a bottle of Yellowtail, which wasn't all that bad, proving again that wine doesn't have to be expensive to taste good.
The second night was something else, beginning by finishing off the last of the Yellowtail and watching Casino. We found out about a party in the next building and sauntered over to check it out, and it wasn't all that bad, although I have to admit-trying to cram a party into such a small room is tricky. I made a few Cape Cods (with lime) and enjoyed a few Guinness, and then returned to the barracks, where a friend and I gagged on a horrible red from Hungary. It was like drinking vinegar.
Now I'm trapped again, and there's no way out this time. Everyone is getting ready to watch the Superbowl, but I could really care less. I'm not from Chicago or Indiana, and soccer (futbol) and rugby are my games, not this pads and steroids stuff. I can only read so many books before I'm bored again. And then there's lunch-I have no idea what I'm going to order, or if they'll even get here right now. Maybe I should just chase everyone around with a fire axe and go freeze to death in the snow
Our command gave us a four-day weekend, and we had about a day to revel in sheer anticipation until copious volumes of snow began to dump all over the North Country without mercy or end. It's still snowing as I write, and we're trapped in the barracks with nothing to do. I can't even go out and buy coffee, and that makes it personal
Naturally, with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and a diverse arsenal of well-proofed beveriges and spirits, we spent the last 48 hours gently working ourselves into a respectable stupor. One of my friends took it upon himself to buy enough booze for a small cabinet, and I spent the first evening showing everyone how to make a gin and tonic (with every third jigger to myself as a service fee). After I'd successfully converted a large part of the masses over to the dark side (gin-I don't know why people hate it so much..), I finished the night off sipping down half a bottle of Yellowtail, which wasn't all that bad, proving again that wine doesn't have to be expensive to taste good.
The second night was something else, beginning by finishing off the last of the Yellowtail and watching Casino. We found out about a party in the next building and sauntered over to check it out, and it wasn't all that bad, although I have to admit-trying to cram a party into such a small room is tricky. I made a few Cape Cods (with lime) and enjoyed a few Guinness, and then returned to the barracks, where a friend and I gagged on a horrible red from Hungary. It was like drinking vinegar.
Now I'm trapped again, and there's no way out this time. Everyone is getting ready to watch the Superbowl, but I could really care less. I'm not from Chicago or Indiana, and soccer (futbol) and rugby are my games, not this pads and steroids stuff. I can only read so many books before I'm bored again. And then there's lunch-I have no idea what I'm going to order, or if they'll even get here right now. Maybe I should just chase everyone around with a fire axe and go freeze to death in the snow
So I went to Syracuse yesterday to go to the mall with some friends and then to pick up a rental car. Syracuse is really interesting-it's like Tacoma with a large University and evidently a lot of Middle Eastern people (a fact that sent bolts of excitement through me, although most of them were women wearing hijabs, and I didn't want to try to talk to them for fear of being culturally insensitive). The Carousel Mall was, well, a mall. With a giant carousel in the food court (imagine that). We did some shopping at H&M, then I wandered off in search of some Sambas while the ladies I was with (and the other guy, who became an ad-hoc fashion critic) went in search of "ass pants".
This was the first annoying experience of my day (looking for Sambas, not ass pants). I realized in my search just how trendy athleticism is, even if you're not an athlete. There were scores of shoe shops and clothing stores that sold all manner of sporty clothing and plenty of the casual models of Adidas and other shoes, but no one sold Sambas. All I wanted was a decent pair of indoor soccer shoes, and I spent hours searching for them. Finally, in the Discount Shoe Warehouse, I found a pair in my size.
In a more positive light, I also discovered the new rage in hip-hop stores, which seems to be this sort of hoody with glitzy designs plastered all over it (i.e. black hoody with shiny Benjamins from collar to cuff, etc.). To be honest, I think they're pretty sweet, but I'd probably look pretty weird if I bought one in a fitting size and wore it with tight pants. I'll probably get one anyway-I like them.
After finding the Sambas and reflecting upon the bling-bling hoodies, I ran into the crew again, and one of the gals was getting her hair layered. Before she finished, I bought some Crew Tea Tree shampoo and fiber. I don't usually put stuff in my hair, but it was buy one, get one half off, so I had to find something or miss out on the deal. Said buddy finished up with her haircut and kindly drove me to the Syracuse airport to pick up my rental car. She offered to circle the lot until I was done, so I thanked her and went inside.
I had all but rented my car when the lady at the counter informed me (with a raspy air of New York indifference) that I had to have a copy of my flight itinerary if I wanted to rent with a debit card. Withholding my original impulse to scream something in the neighborhood of Then why the fuck didn't you put that on your fucking website so I would've brought my bleedin' itinerary? I went to the various airline desks to see if I could get a printout (I'd forgotten which airline I was on, having purchased an Expedia e-ticket).
Going to Continental first was a big mistake, not because of the airline, but because I chose to begin with the only airline that had one desk worker who was engaged in a fierce verbal exchange with some upper-crust princess over ticketing and flight times. This broad had reserved a flight with frequent flyer miles, the flight had fallen through, and she wanted a thousand-dollar transfer for something that only cost $46 in the first place. So I had to sit in line, watching the older woman behind the counter answer her questions, then five minutes later, after the predictable outbursts, answer the same fucking question again because the young royale had forgotten during her fit of spoiled rage that she'd already asked it. Needless to say, once she'd realized she was SOL, I found out that I was also SOL, not being on Continental.
After more searching, I realized that I had a credit card with me (duh) and rented the car with it, no problem.
Unfortunately, my buddy outside had to drive away because she was being harassed by the cops for parking in front of the terminal (the irony-a two tour GWOT veteran being shooed away by police for security reasons). I had no knowledge of this, and circled the terminal several times myself before giving up and regrouping at the mall. I found my people there, and we did some more shopping (well, the ladies did, still searching in vain for that perfect pair of "ass pants"), and I left once I'd accidentally lost them, because I wanted to get to Samir's (a Middle Eastern grocery store in Syracuse) before closing time.
I bought a box of Sadaf tea, half a pound of French feta, two bags of pita, some olives and a jar of tahina. I was really tempted to buy a vat of olives, but I was afraid to spend too much. I was tempted to buy some of the halal salami there, but I've really been trying to eat vegetarian more often, although it's for various reasons that don't fall within the neighborhood of eco-superhero or anything like that.
Anyway, on the way home, I had to drive through a blizzard, which ended up with me pulling about 25MPH for an hour in the barren strech between Syracuse and Drum. I'd never driven in heavy snow before, and I almost had vertigo because New York doesn't have that delightful west coast ethic that calls for the installation of freeway lamps at reasonable intervals. Needless to say, I made it home and promptly passed out, anticipating a long day of boring reverse in-processing at the admin building.
This was the first annoying experience of my day (looking for Sambas, not ass pants). I realized in my search just how trendy athleticism is, even if you're not an athlete. There were scores of shoe shops and clothing stores that sold all manner of sporty clothing and plenty of the casual models of Adidas and other shoes, but no one sold Sambas. All I wanted was a decent pair of indoor soccer shoes, and I spent hours searching for them. Finally, in the Discount Shoe Warehouse, I found a pair in my size.
In a more positive light, I also discovered the new rage in hip-hop stores, which seems to be this sort of hoody with glitzy designs plastered all over it (i.e. black hoody with shiny Benjamins from collar to cuff, etc.). To be honest, I think they're pretty sweet, but I'd probably look pretty weird if I bought one in a fitting size and wore it with tight pants. I'll probably get one anyway-I like them.
After finding the Sambas and reflecting upon the bling-bling hoodies, I ran into the crew again, and one of the gals was getting her hair layered. Before she finished, I bought some Crew Tea Tree shampoo and fiber. I don't usually put stuff in my hair, but it was buy one, get one half off, so I had to find something or miss out on the deal. Said buddy finished up with her haircut and kindly drove me to the Syracuse airport to pick up my rental car. She offered to circle the lot until I was done, so I thanked her and went inside.
I had all but rented my car when the lady at the counter informed me (with a raspy air of New York indifference) that I had to have a copy of my flight itinerary if I wanted to rent with a debit card. Withholding my original impulse to scream something in the neighborhood of Then why the fuck didn't you put that on your fucking website so I would've brought my bleedin' itinerary? I went to the various airline desks to see if I could get a printout (I'd forgotten which airline I was on, having purchased an Expedia e-ticket).
Going to Continental first was a big mistake, not because of the airline, but because I chose to begin with the only airline that had one desk worker who was engaged in a fierce verbal exchange with some upper-crust princess over ticketing and flight times. This broad had reserved a flight with frequent flyer miles, the flight had fallen through, and she wanted a thousand-dollar transfer for something that only cost $46 in the first place. So I had to sit in line, watching the older woman behind the counter answer her questions, then five minutes later, after the predictable outbursts, answer the same fucking question again because the young royale had forgotten during her fit of spoiled rage that she'd already asked it. Needless to say, once she'd realized she was SOL, I found out that I was also SOL, not being on Continental.
After more searching, I realized that I had a credit card with me (duh) and rented the car with it, no problem.
Unfortunately, my buddy outside had to drive away because she was being harassed by the cops for parking in front of the terminal (the irony-a two tour GWOT veteran being shooed away by police for security reasons). I had no knowledge of this, and circled the terminal several times myself before giving up and regrouping at the mall. I found my people there, and we did some more shopping (well, the ladies did, still searching in vain for that perfect pair of "ass pants"), and I left once I'd accidentally lost them, because I wanted to get to Samir's (a Middle Eastern grocery store in Syracuse) before closing time.
I bought a box of Sadaf tea, half a pound of French feta, two bags of pita, some olives and a jar of tahina. I was really tempted to buy a vat of olives, but I was afraid to spend too much. I was tempted to buy some of the halal salami there, but I've really been trying to eat vegetarian more often, although it's for various reasons that don't fall within the neighborhood of eco-superhero or anything like that.
Anyway, on the way home, I had to drive through a blizzard, which ended up with me pulling about 25MPH for an hour in the barren strech between Syracuse and Drum. I'd never driven in heavy snow before, and I almost had vertigo because New York doesn't have that delightful west coast ethic that calls for the installation of freeway lamps at reasonable intervals. Needless to say, I made it home and promptly passed out, anticipating a long day of boring reverse in-processing at the admin building.
