Leave Here A Stranger in The eye of every storm

  • April 15, 2015, 4:17 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

Today I bought a vacation. I logged in, found something cool, found some cool things to go with it, and hit purchase like I was fucking Donald Trump. I logged in to my bank account, just to make sure, and there was still money there. I guess it may not seem like a great big deal, but it is to me. In February 2011, I was literally penniless, homeless, and living in the woods. Four years later, I log in to The Internet, and just fucking buy a week of solitude with my fiance’ without worry.

This is still all very new to me. It certainly feels strange writing about it, as Paper Cut Scenario on Open Diary never knew such possibilities existed. Every time I log out I feel I leave here a stranger. Honestly, I feel like a stranger to myself. This doesn’t feel right. Maybe its just new, but I feel deep in my core that I don’t deserve this and that I’ve earned none of it, but happened to catch a ride on just the right coat tails through my entire life. It’s also strange how frustrating more can really be, because I remember the happiness less genuinely brought.

I guess that’s neither here nor there. I don’t analyze anymore. I accept most things at face value without thought or consequence because complacency is all the rage back home. It feels like all your friends who play guitar, hitting an A minor like it means something anymore. That ship has sailed.

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I’m going to be in a magazine. That’s sort of exciting, but not so much because its vis-a-vis my Employer. Once I wrote a nice think piece detailing how we helped a little boy who lost his Father in Iraq achieve his dream of sitting court-side at a Sacramento Kings NBA game, his Fathers’ favorite team. We set up free airfare, a celebration of his Fathers life at the airport, limousine transportation and a half-time ceremony for this kid. So I wrote this story about it all at the behest of my Employer. It was good. This was my chance to move into the communications department.

I hit send on the email clicky button and waited. Two days later, my Title, my by-line, and a smattering of indefinite articles were the only remaining fragments of originality.

Here’s a link to the local newspaper (not what I wrote for the Company blog):

http://www.burbankleader.com/news/tn-blr-0126-nba-sacramento-kings-welcomes-fami-002,0,6252462.photo

The crazy frosty spikey haired lady, she’s the one that originally contacted me. She supports a terrific organization called Honoring Our Fallen. I gave them a bunch of free plane tickets to make all of this happen and used the all mighty Marketing department to help make it special.

Anyway, I’m not so stoked about being featured in a Magazine representing my Company. I know whatever I said is going to be edited, stripped, processed, recycled and invented. It’s a magazine that helps Veterans, and this spotlight is specifically aimed at Combat veterans transitioning out of the service and into normal civilian life. It goes without saying that its very personal to me, and I’m bracing for the anger that will surely come when I read my “responses.”

I did get a pretty good photograph out of the deal:

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I received a raise the other day. It’s my second this year, and my fifth over the last two years. They are not raises that I’m used to receiving, such as, “We’re going to up your pay a whole quarter an hour.” They’re unfathomable amounts of four digit numbers that keep getting tagged onto my salary.

I feel like this is all too good to be true, like I’m just going to fuck this up real good. Part of me thinks I won’t though. I’ve grown up a lot over the last few years and have a greater grasp of responsibility. I also drink a lot too, so don’t count me out just yet.

I do snicker a little at times though, thinking of all the ex girlfriends thinking I would never amount to anything. And they were right; if I stuck around with them, I wouldn’t have arrived here.

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Vacation. Sorry. I followed a rabbit trail and discovered a bitter ending, but yes, vacation.

Katrina and I are flying to Portland, Oregon. We’re renting a car, driving through the Tillamook forest to Rockaway Beach on the mighty pacific. We’ll be there a week, staying in this cabin:



It’s quite lovely. It is a five minute walk to a secluded stretch of Oregon Coastline, or the serene Lake that is literally right out the front door. We’ll probably relax, read, play games, drink wine, take walks, and watch the sunrise and sunset (if its not overcast, but Oregon-). I’ve got my eye on a trail called Kings Mountain. The summit yields views of both Mt. Adams, Mt. Hood, and the Pacific Ocean. I’m certainly not in the hiking shape I completed the Florida Trail with, but I think I can haul my ass up five miles of switchback fir wilderness if the inspiration struck me.

It has.

Before flying home, we’re going to make the standard stop to see Multnomah Falls. The next day, we’ll be flying to Phoenix, renting a car, and driving to the Grand Canyon. From there, we will spend the next night in Sedona before flying back here to Tejas. I’m certain I will sorely miss my bassett hound and kitty by that point.

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Things are strange, but they’re good, ya know? I suppose that maybe they’re just new, but I hope to God I don’t ever get “used” to this.


Last updated April 15, 2015


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