Little Laura Goes to War

A short while ago my good friend and former roommate Laura got a letter instructing her to get her gear, she's going to war. Deployment time. Brass knuckles time. Whether it would be Afghanistan or Iraq was still to be determined, but a few things were clear: she would be the first of us to deploy and she'd need to find a way to strap more grenades to her chest. As it would turn out her deployment was not per the usual, however. When her deployment letter finally came instead of being tasked to a forward operating base or major theatre hospital in country hers read: you're going on vacation! Her six months of service to the nation would be an all-expense paid trip to Germany where she'd visit the Swiss Alps, lounge in Bavarian beer gardens, and take in culture and class at many a Baroque Austrian palace or concert hall. Sure she'd be caring for patients and war wounded at the medical center in Landstuhl, but as judged by the constant stream of Facebook photos since, she's mostly there to party.
 
Despite the fact that she had likely ruined deployments for all the rest of us for all the future I decided to pay Laura a pre-deployment this-may-be-the-last-time-I-see-you-alive visit. It was also secretly a visit to the Historic Triangle of Revolutionary America and an excuse to get a tricorne hat. The trip was successful on all accounts.

The trip was not without hardship; however, especially if you like to use the word "hardship" as a stand in for "never ending rain." The rain didn't start till after we set out on our twenty something mile bike ride, but once it started it never stopped coming. Quickly we were soaked, but still we rode on.

Whenever I insisted we stop and admire a local landmark Laura often insisted she wait under a tree. We then had a very wet lunch, and proceeded to have a very wet ride back after leaving behind very wet chairs and table clothes behind us.

We didn't stay in Yorktown or Old Williamsburg all too long, but there's always time for victory poses. Just like back in 1776.

Once all that was said and done we settled down to what really mattered. College football and puzzles.

Laura made this while slowly losing her mind -- smashing together decorated styrofoam is apparently more difficult than it looks. Coincidentally I was also losing my mind for an entirely different reason -- thank you Fighting Texas Aggies. We also saw a movie, had some food and drink, and then Laura went off to war. Went off to war a few weeks later after visiting other family and friends to be entirely accurate, but I'm pretty sure what prepared her most was my inspiring visit. My hat spurred her into a patriotic furor.

Drizzle Storm Irene

This weekend it rained. I am told it was a hurricane.

I was also told I'd lose power for an indefinite period of time during which society would slowly crumble into a dystopian chaos whereby men would be forced to live off of bottled Evian water, Quaker granola bars, and whatever turkeys they could pluck from the side of the road. The American dollar would be replaced with a gold ingot and gasoline generator based barter system where two gasoline generators would be worth roughly two gold ingots or one slightly larger gasoline generator. Trees and power lines would be uprooted and carried great distances by the wind and rain only to be deposited haphazardly across every bridge and intersection forcing people to walk from one side of their small town to the other, many dieing in the process. As events reached an apocalyptic crescendo days would be followed by night, cool temperatures by slightly cool temperatures, and periods of idle boredom by even longer periods of idle boredom. People would start doing puzzles, have thoughtful conversations, or perhaps go to bed early even. I was told things would be different come the storm, and they were. I couldn't get a haircut that day.

I also couldn't go to the gym. Or the grocery store. Or the library. It was raining everywhere so I couldn't go for a bike ride or a hike, and a man -- it turns out -- can only watch so much TV in a day. Especially when it's interrupted constantly with news updates reporting that, yes, it is still raining outside. Everything was closed, and there was no where to go. So lacking better things to do I did what any sane person would do and I cleaned. Vacuuming my apartment came far too easily so I pressed on to wash the shower, do the dishes, and fold a load of laundry. It was ugly and I'm not proud of it, but I did it. I also over turned some cars and a lit a tire fire in the middle of the city, but in truth I do that most weekends.

I got lucky. The storm was nothing more than a passing inconvenience for me whereas, from what I hear, the entire state of Vermont was covered in water which was only followed by mud which was only followed by, I would assume, raccoons and other varmints. And so I get to write this blog post now with full electricity, a full fridge, and pantry still full of Quaker granola bars and fresh plucked turkeys. That's two natural disasters down, bring on the volcanoes.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

It has been a number of months since San Antonio has had a good rain. Yesterday, and today, we finally had one. And then my car battery died.

It is actually not quite the coincidence that it sounds. It turns out that I regularly am in the habit of not turning my lights off when I park my truck when it's raining outside yet still light out. This thing seems to happen about once a year. Nevertheless, usually it is not 12:00 midnight and usually it is not 40 something degrees out and usually I am not stuck on an Air Force base after having being working all evening. Thankfully, after the base's security forces refused to jump me (they apparently have a strict no-helpfulness policy), my dear, good, gracious, reliable friend Beau who happened to be working an overnight shift was there to help me restart my car. It took about 30 minutes to get it all done seeing as the cables were never quite long enough and we had to push my truck out of its parking spot to get closer, but we did it. We were both soaked, Beau was possibly hypothermic, and I had lost faith in my country. (Seriously base police, you cannot give me a jump in the middle of the night in the middle of a storm? Seriously?) On the relatively slow drive home, sometimes it seems like San Antonio was designed specifically with the purpose of flooding in mind, I was treated to one more bit of excitement as getting off the highway I, and the car slightly adjacent of me, disappeared into a sea of water that effectively submerged our vehicles and made me exclaim, "Oh, shi-" right as the cameras cut away. Perhaps it's good that it doesn't rain here too much.

But internship progresses. I am in the ER now. Because last week I was doing evening shifts from 1500 to 2300 and there are not always patients at the ER from 1500 to 2300 thereby leading to my early release some days I have not had a consistent schedule for most of it. I am wholly disoriented. Every day feels like Sunday and every hour like roughly 9 pm. I never know quite what I should be eating, when I should be eating it, and if I am eating enough or too much in a day (not that I likely could eat too much though.) I'd guess the time right now but I'm as likely to be 5 hours off as 1, and it's not like I would know what to do with that information anyway. At least I still know who I am, that I live in San Antonio, and that Ronald Reagan is president.

The Day Everything was Dirty

I've seen a fair amount of weather in my time. Double rainbows. Funnel clouds. Full circle rainbows. Rain bursts in nearly full sun. Up until now I had never seen muddy rain, however. Allegedly it ain't no big thing. West Texas, being the barren wasteland that it is, naturally provides Central and East Texas with cattle, coyotes, and dust. Frequently this dust mixes with crossing storm clouds and the end result of such a mating is muddy rain. Occurs all the time they say. Whatever. Its relative frequency aside, muddy water is unique not in that the rain itself looks different as the drops themselves -- as far as I can tell as they do fall pretty fast -- look like regular ol' rain drops, but rather in what the drops leave behind. Being composed of 25% sediment they leave behind 100% sediment when the water evaporates. At first you think someone has played a cruel if not odd joke on you by splattering your vehicle with a thin but generous layer of muddy bilge water, but, after looking around a bit, you soon realize that that is not the case. That's because the muddy bilge water is everywhere. On every car, every window, every lawn chair, everywhere. It's a bit curious driving around with just about every vehicle around you looking as if they had been off roading for the weekend -- the bourgeoisie with their garages tend to fair better -- and so it appears that everything in town is dirty. The effect lasts only a day or two as people soon start washing their cars and things return to normal, but the added chore aside the experience is a pleasant one as for a brief moment life becomes subtly, and yet obviously, abnormal in a way that has a touch of the fantastical. I bet in Switzerland it sometimes rains hot chocolate. That or well engineered Swiss watches.