Archive for the 'Life' Category

Not to knock Spartanburg, but…

January 7th, 2005 at 11:20 pm

I should be in Columbia right now. I should be hanging out and partying with Andy and Kieran tonight after an afternoon toss of the baseball on the horseshoe. I should be.

But wait, I’m not. About four weeks ago, my truck took me the entire 600 miles up to Virginia to see my family. Last night, it only allowed me to retrace 570 of them. About a half an hour outside of town, the engine gave a soft whine and started to gradually slow down. Clay thought I was messing around when I let flow of a steady, loud stream of expletives. I managed to pull the truck over to the side of the road, get AAA to town me to a mechanics, and my dad picked us up and finished the journey for us. Surprisingly enough, the mechanics were able to start working on my baby around 9 this morning. Unsurprisingly enough, they have absolutely no idea what is wrong with it. No belts are broken, the engine’s getting gas just fine, and not a damn thing appears to be wrong. But I can assure you, when you turn the key, all you get is the classic “Uhuhuhuhuhuh”. If they can’t fix it tomorrow, I’m stuck here until Monday night at the earliest and Andy leaves Tuesday.

Sometimes I seriously hate Fate.

There’s just something about me and trying to drive home from Virginia. Last year I was forced to do so on New Years night and was able to witness a tractor trailer exploding in front of me, sit still from 2AM until 5:30AM, and then watch my battery quickly died. I don’t know what the hell I did to anger the Gods this year, but it must have been a doozie.

But you know what the funny / not-so much funny, but more ironic thing is? My truck died within 3 miles of the exact same spot last year. Next time, I’m taking another route home.

Gotta have fun with life.

December 8th, 2004 at 01:53 am

This entire semester has been quite normal for me, school wise. I took, for me, an average schedule full of History and Criminal Justice classes. Nothing really out of the ordinary. But I always seem to have an abnormally high workload due to the electives I have chosen over the years and this semester was no different. I’m not one to take those Intro to Bowling or Beginners Finger Painting classes. Call me crazy, but when I’m forking over $25,000 of my own hard earned cash, I want to get something of substance in return. Therefore, my elective classes have always tended to be a little challenging and stimulating and this semester was no different as I was enrolled in Introductory Latin. However, this semester tended to be a little busier than I would have preferred due to my Senior Thesis class and whatnot, which did not bode well for my Latin class. Every other week it seemed like I was being forced to decide which came first in the studying hierarchy, Latin or any of my other classes. Since I technically didn’t need Latin and all my other classes were required for my major, you can guess which ones received priority.

Some people have asked me how I don’t fret and worry over my grades and it’s quite simple. Beyond studying, there’s nothing I can do. There’s no reason to pretend any test is life and death and if you studied the material, you should feel confident. Even if you feel like you bombed the test as you walked out of the class, why worry? Is ruining your night over worrying about a test you’ve already taken going to help your grade any? I think not. Yet sometimes there are times when I do grow nervous as I’m handed a test and so a few years ago I started doing what I do throughout the rest of my life whenever things get rough. I made myself laugh and forced myself to have fun with the tests. (Just ask Fellner what I did / wrote about during our Psychology AP exam. The story gets even funnier when you learn of the grade I received.) I started writing jokes or drawing funny pictures in the margins and this, therefore, always made the teachers get to know me and remember me a little quicker. They felt more comfortable calling on and joking around with me, often leading me to be mislabeled as a Teacher’s Pet. And Latin was no different.

As the semester grew older, the tests grew harder, and my study time for the class diminished, I found myself knowing fewer and fewer answers. But I hate leaving a question blank. Hate it. Despise it. Refuse to do it. I’ll answer “Um….Penis” before I leave a question blank. And so, whenever a question was given to me in Latin that I had absolutely no idea what the answer was, I would respond with “Dorkus Malorkus,” which is a quote from Simpsons. By quiz 8, my teacher was writing in the margins “what in the heck does this mean?!” and “for the love of God, NOOOOOOOO! THIS ISN’T A REAL LATIN PHRASE!!” I found it hilarious and I knew that she did too, even if she wouldn’t admit it. In fact, even though she felt at ease with me throughout the entire semester, she never once cracked a joke back at me. She always laughed when I or someone else did, but her response to them all were always just a smile and slight shake of the head before moving onto the next problem.

As my class and I were preparing to take the final today, I commissioned a Goob Poll and asked if there was anybody else in the class taking it simply as an elective. Not a one. So, when our teacher walked in the door and asked if there were any questions, I raised my hand. As a smile spread across her face and her eyes rolled, she called on me knowing damn well that I had never asked a serious question throughout the entire semester and that I wasn’t about to start now. I proceeded to lay out what I felt was a strong case for the curving by 50 points for all students who took Latin as an elective. Shouldn’t she help encourage students to take advantage of college and stimulate their minds?! Wouldn’t it be a kind gesture on her part if she could just curve my final average?!

She laughed and nodded as I went on until I finally reached my closing arguments. As I sat there awaiting her response, wondering how she was going to play off my question, she looked me square in the eye and said, “Ryan, you are a true Dorkus Malorkus.”

I don’t think I’ve ever smiled throughout an entire exam like I did today.

I never was good with these

December 3rd, 2004 at 02:07 am

I really don’t know anything ready to talk about, but in an effort to show that I am indeed sincere about posting often, I’m forcing myself to sit and write for a timed period, kinda like an in-class essay. Let’s see what this leads to…

Life right now, honestly, is as close to perfect as it’s been in a long time. There is one key component missing that I’ve been reminded of many times over this past week, especially at dinner the other night, but overall things are going great. And it’s not just the big stuff (such as, say, a major thesis!), but it’s as if even the small, insignificant things have been falling my way lately. I guess I’m finally cashing in on some of that good karma I’ve been saving up lately. Hell, even the future looks amazingly bright. I got to see my family and friends over Thanksgiving break and am about to see them all over again later this month. By this time next week, I’ll be finished with school for two months. In a little over three weeks, I’ll be snowmobiling in the mountains around Lake Tahoe and January has nothing in store for me but relaxing and trying to get all my old high school friends together one last time before I…..well, I’m saving that for another post =)

And to top that all off, Shyzer’s daily readership is at an all-time high. Have I mentioned lately how much y’all kick ass? Because you really do.

I’ve been e-mailing a lot of people lately, especially people I haven’t talked to in months or years. Y’know, sort of in an attempt to see where they all ended up and what all they’re doing now. It just kind of came to me after surfing Facebook a few days ago and seeing so many people from my past. (Yes, I joined over a month ago and am totally addicted. My favorite feature? “Poking” all the hot girls I see. =) So I just started e-mailing not only people I saw on there, but other people as well. Old teachers, old professors, old neighbors. I tracked down one of my old professors and waited outside his classroom the other day simply to see how he was doing and let him know how much of an impact he had on me. I’ve already made plans to have lunch or dinner in the near future with a handful of old friends I haven’t seen in years. It didn’t dawn on me until just the other day why I was doing it all. I just want to make sure we all have a proper goodbye. I hate that unresolved feeling I have with some people, that feeling of “do they really how I feel about them?” I just want to make sure that everybody in my past who I’ve drifted away from knows they had an impact on me. And I guess this is just the best time to make sure they know, before they all scatter out even more than they have and before I…well, I promised I’d save that for another post.

Okay, my time is up. So now do you see why it takes me a long time to write posts for Shyzer? When I try to throw something together in an hour or two, this is what I get. When I take a few more hours to polish it and then sleep on it and polish it some more, I actually get something decent. Fellner, you have no idea how much I envy your speed writing abilities.

And with that, I’m off to finish a new subsection for Shyzer. Look for it over there on the left hand side of the site by the end of tonight!

Thank You Walpole!

November 30th, 2004 at 02:09 am

That’s right folks. Look at that cam picture over there. Print it. Admire it. Question how such a miracle could occur. I know I sure as hell have since this afternoon. That, my friends, is my Senior Thesis. Here, let me recreate the scene from earlier this afternoon as my professor handed back the papers.

Goob: Look, Professor Gregg, I just want to apologize for the poor quality of my paper, especially near the end. I simply ran out of time editing it! You yourself saw me run into class 30 minutes late since I was trying to edit as much as humanly possible and I just want…
The Best Grader Ever: Uh, Mr. Shyzer, what are you talking about? You received the highest grade in the class.
Goob: If you’d be willing to just let me…wait, what?
Goob grabs the paper and takes a look at it
Goob: I…I…I MADE AN A!?!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! YEEEEEEEES!!!! DAMN, I LOVE THIS SHIT AND I MAY MOVE TO ENGLAND, AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I think I may have dry humped the pencil sharpener on my way out, but honestly my memory is a little hazy around that time period. I remember sprinting back to my apartment, literally high-fiving random strangers as I went. The janitor wearing a Christmas Santa Hat on her head yelled something to me as I hugged her, but I didn’t quite catch it.

An A. Holy Damn… I have no idea how I pulled this off. None. I’m about to go punch holes into the corners and hang it around my neck for the rest of this week. And you think I’m kidding. Man, sometimes, it’s nice being smart. I’ll be honest, I try to be a modest person. I’ve yet to bring up the A with anybody on my own. But the minute somebody’s asked me how it turned out, I’ve let go.

I guess I’m just proud of myself.

Anyways, I want to alert everybody to a new site that just opened up last night. In case you haven’t heard, my good buddy Neal has opened up a site over at Nealsmack. He brought it back from the dead last night and the forums are already bustling with activity. He apparently had the site a few years ago, but it died due to complications even the doctors couldn’t foresee. But now it’s back and so, you need to go check it out. Now.

And hey, while you’re at it, GO AND VOTE in the final round of the Best of Shyzer. Voting will probably be closed after this week, and therefore, you only have a few days left. Seriously, it takes a maximum of 60 seconds to vote. So none of you have excuses not to. Especially those of you I know in real life and who will be bitched out by me personally if you fail to vote =) And just in case anybody need a memory refresher on what the heck I’m talking about, you can read all about it in this previous post of mine.

And yet onto another random topic. Everybody do me a second favor. See the Tagboard? Look beneath it. See the Radio Blog? Good. Click on a song and tell me if it plays. I’ve got it playing on my computer, but I want to make sure it works on everybody else’s. And yes, this is kind of important, because it’s going to come into play here very soon on Shyzer. I’ve currently uploaded seven songs that I’ve been playing over and over for the past few days. My two favorites easily are Perfect To Stay and Since U Been Gone. I’m not really a Kelly Clarkson fan other than the fact that she’s hot, but for some reason, I love her voice when she screams. And she does quite a bit of screaming in her new song, meaning therefore I love her new song. The chorus is pretty damn good too. As far as the Collective Soul songs go, well, everybody knows they are one of my all-time favorite bands. They released a brand new CD a week or so ago and those are the best songs off it. I think Perfect To Stay is the best of them all, but my brother thinks Satellite is. Anybody care to set us straight and help us decide? =)

And while we’re on the topic of Shyzer, how about a mini-update? The achieve is a mess right now due to some of the new MovableType code that I don’t understand. One day it looks completely wrong, then the next it magically fixes itself, only to reverse the following day. I hope to fix that sometime this week. The gallery is down as well and I have no idea why. I actually have a ton of new pictures I took over Thanksgiving to upload, so that has suddenly jumped to the top of my List of Things to Fix. Shlyrics (a new subpage) is coming along nicely, as is a bunch of the half-completed posts I talked about earlier. Hell, don’t look now, but ever since November rolled around, I’ve been making a good 5 posts a week or so. This is a trend I plan to maintain.

But for this week, I’m floating on cloud nine. That A on my thesis was an unbelievable way to start the week. The Packers won tonight, tomorrow is Pizza Night, Wednesday is all new Lost and West Wing, Thursday my apartment will host the second Swagger Party of the semester, and Friday…well, I can’t think too far ahead. Honestly, life couldn’t be treating me any better right now. And that’s without even considering the fact that I only have a week and a half left of school before I get two months of vacation and a trip to Australia.

As Fellner says, “It’s Good to be Goob.”

Finally, it’s over…

November 22nd, 2004 at 03:25 pm

That’s right, it’s finally over. I just walked in the door after turning in the final draft of my senior thesis and all I can think of is “I just needed one more hour with the damn thing. ONE MORE HOUR!” The paper was due at 2:30 and by 3:00, I was only editing page 13. I know for a fact that there are some errors on pages 14-25, but frankly, there was nothing more I could do. I was already tempting fate as it was and that’s something you never willingly do.

If my teacher came up to me right now and said, “Goob, I won’t even read your paper if you agree to take a B-,” I’d shake his hand in a heartbeat. Anything below that and, well, I guess I’d just roll the dice and tell him to read it. C’s don’t please me. I’ve never been average.

However, right now, I am going to crawl into bed and take what might be the most deserving nap in the history of man kind. I’ve been up for 30 straight hours and since Thursday, I’ve amassed a total of 15 hours of sleep.

Okay, my bed just called my name. Literally. When I wake up around midnight or so, I plan on spending all night typing posts, responding to comments, and just working on Shyzer. Until then….

Number of people in the world who care about Britain 1660-1760: fourteen

September 24th, 2004 at 04:04 am

First off, I wanted to thank all the people who IMed and left me comments expressing thanks for linking to CB’s site. I’m glad some people who visit Shyzer take the time to read what I have to say. (Yes, that was an indirect insult to you Fellner. Haha, now it’s direct!) Seriously, his writing is some powerful stuff, both for those who thing we shouldn’t be in Iraq and for those who wonder why they aren’t standing alongside their fellow countrymen. We’re already in this mess folks. We’ve got to at least finish it now…

Anyways, school is slowly settling back down. I’ve only got one more exam to go (In Latin. On Monday. Wish me luck), which means that the waters have once again become calm and smooth. I know this is just a ruse; that in only a week or two things will go all ape-shit as Mid-Terms rear their ugly heads, but I’m gonna enjoy this easy sailing while it lasts.

My Senior Seminar class frankly is one of the most pathetic classes I have to take. The professor is well meaning and I understand why the school requires History students to take one, but my main qualm with the whole class is over the subject matters offered. Here is the short list of classes I was given to choose from.

Race and Cultural Diversity
Civil War in Film
History of American Women
Residential Colonial America
Britain 1660-1760

Wow. Nice selection there, old chaps. And don’t be fooled by the cool Civil War class, because that one is a given. We have to offer that class seeing as Clyde Wilson teaches here. I guarantee, if you ever watch a documentary on the History Channel about anything relating to the Civil War, old Clydy and his stomach-curling raspy voice from years of chain smoking will be on there. So the department has to offer a class for him to teach. It’s so kind of them to let a whole 13 of us sign up for that class! Wow! Thirteen! That means one out of every 94 students who wants to take it will be able to sign up! I like my odds already!

IT’S A MOVIE CLASS! THIRTEEN?!? Could we not get a bigger room to show the video and let a few more students in? I understand the department doesn’t want to bog Wilson down with hundreds upon hundreds of term papers to read and grades, but if you aren’t going to let but just a few of us in the class, the least you could do is offer us something worthwhile as a backup.

History of American Women? I don’t care. I stopped by and looked in on that class. Not a male in sight. Big surprise. The teacher was also talking about “those chauvinistic bastards in the office that won’t let her teach the class the way she wants to.” Yeah, a whole semester of being bashed on by the teacher? Not my cup of tea. Race and Cultural Diversity? I just don’t relate to it. I can at least understand why this one is being offered, but it’s just not for me. Residential Colonial America? That just sounded like trouble. I mean, what is that? An essay on the female skirt patterns over on Dover Street during 1753 or what men’s favorite dinner in the mountain area during the not-so-famous famine of 1722 was? Honestly, what the hell kind of class is this? Does anybody even care about the Revolutionary War anymore? The more I study it, the more I’m irritated with the Americans. They had the best style and expectations of life then anybody in the world had ever had and they were pissed off because they had to pay an extra cent on every crate of tea. Boo fucking hoo.

Which meant I was stuck in Britain 1660-1760. I figured there had to be something I could find in there relating to war and diplomatic history. I was right…well, sort of. Even though I had never heard of it, apparently the first Prime Minister resignation in Britain’s history came from some war with Spain that he got the country into. So what happened? A few newspapers said nasty things about him and he resigned.

Riveting!

I see no reason why I should be forced to go through old newspapers from the 1740s and dig through countless numbers of books just to find out who the 3rd Count Duke of Wellington was. I didn’t even know there were Dukes in Wellington. I didn’t even know there were three of them. In fact, I didn’t care then and I still don’t care. I don’t care. I DON’T CARE!!!!

I’m sorry, I just had to vent about this class. I honestly don’t “hate” it per say. In the end, I actually find it funny that I have to take it and it’s fun complaining about it with the hot chick in class since she too thinks it’s a waste of time. But I promise another post will be up soon that won’t be full of bitching and moaning.

Our Soldier

September 20th, 2004 at 02:39 am

I think I’ve found the “Why” to a question I have been long trying to answer.

My War

The link above is to a fellow blogger’s site and one of the posts he made a month or so ago. He’s currently stationed in Mosul, calls himself a “skater with a gun” who holds no political affiliation, and who simply brings to life the accounts we here back home read and see in the news.

He’s also been having some trouble with the military, specifically with their censorship rules. Apparently they don’t look kindly upon a soldier who likes to report back home how life really is for the soldiers serving in Iraq. Even though he has never given away any detailed information regarding military tactics, troop strengths or weaknesses, patrol patterns, etc., he has begun to show some irregularities on his site that suggest he is struggling to keep it alive. One day it will be up in full, the next it will only have one or two posts, the next it will have some cryptic message in which the only thing available to read are the exact words from the 1st Amendment, and the next it’s back up in full.

And it all started after he posted “Men In Black.”

Over the past few months, his readership has grown from 50 to 100 to 1,000 to well over 5,000 a day. He’s gone from being just another person trapped in the clusterfuck we call Operation Iraqi Freedom to somebody that thousands upon thousands turn to for a voice of truth. The many people out there who have no real direct connection to anybody serving in Iraq have dubbed him “Our Soldier” and pray for his safety as if he was one of their own. I’ve even found myself strangely fixated on this man whom I’ve never even met. Every time CNN has a story located in Mosul, my stomach knots up inside as I silently pray that CB’s name isn’t mentioned in the report. No, he is not the only soldier out there blogging about his experiences in the military. But he does seem to be the most “real” of all the bloggers; a man who knows that all people really crave is to know the truth.

He now currently has posted his “greatest hits.” There are roughly ten or so detailed, personal accounts of his experiences in Iraq and they are some of the most interesting posts of any blog I have ever read. However, since he seems to be having trouble with keeping his site up and running, I decided to duplicate his “Men In Black” post here so that if he ever is forced to take it off his site again, it will never die.

This is what CNN wrote on their website about what happened yesterday here in Mosul:

Mosul clashes leave 12 dead

Clashes between police and insurgents in the northern city of Mosul left 12 Iraqis dead and 26 wounded, hospital and police sources said Wednesday.

Rifle and rocket-propelled grenade fire as well as explosions were heard in the streets of the city.

The provincial governor imposed a curfew that began at 3 p.m. local time (7 a.m. EDT), and two hours later, provincial forces, police and Iraqi National Guard took control, according to Hazem Gelawi, head of the governor’s press office in the Nineveh province.

Gelawi said the city is stable and expects the curfew to be lifted Thursday.

Now here’s what really happened:

I was in my room reading a book (Thin Red Line) when the mortars started coming down. Usually when we get mortared it’ll only one, maybe two mortars. But this mortar attack went on for almost 20 minutes. Each one impacting the FOB every couple minutes. Something was up. My roommate ripped open the door and yelled “Get your guys, Go to the motor pool! The whole BATTALION is rolling out!” Holy shit, the whole Battalion? This must be big. So I ran over and woke my guys up, yelled, “Get your fuckin shit on and head down to the motor pool! Time: Now!” I grabbed my shit and started running to the motor pool, hearing small arms fire off in the back ground. By now everybody was running to motor pool. Putting their cloths on while they were running. At the motor pool, everybody was strapping on there shit and getting ready. One by one a Stryker was rolling out of the motor pool ready to hunt down whoever was fucking with us. People were hooting and hollering, yelling their war cries and doing the Indian yell thing as they drove off and locked and loaded their weapons. These guys that are attacking us just fucked with the bee’s nest, and now they’re getting the swarm. As I got the vehicle ready to go I overheard on our radio that shit was hitting the fan all over Mosul, large amounts of people attacking us with small arms, RPG attacks, burned vehicles, and there was a bunch of people in all black armed with AK’s over Mosul. Fuck. I overheard one of our iraqi interpreter say in broken English, “Give me gun, I want to kill these motherfuckers!” As we rolled out the main gate, our FOB was getting attacked, we had soldiers laying down in the prone up on the outer perimeter of the FOB firing there weapons out. We rolled down the main exit out and drove down a busy two way street. I was the T.C. for our vehicle, my job is to be behind the .50 cal, and operate the system, which allows me to fire it. This was only my second day as a T.C. Sitting right next to me out the hatch was my Plt Sgt.. Shortly as we were driving down the main street leaving our FOB, a man, dressed in all black, jumped out from the side corner of a building, pointed his AK47 right at me. Right at my fucking head and all I saw was the fire from his muzzle flash leaving the end of his barrel and brass shell casings exiting the side of his AK as he was shooting directly at me. I heard and felt the bullets whiz literally inches from my head, hitting all around my hatch and 50 cal mount making a “Ping” “Ping” “Ping” sound. I ducked the fucked down in the hatch. I yelled “We’re taking fire! 3 O’clock!!! Turned the gun around towards where the guy was and fired a burst. I fired a burst right over our back air guard hatch where our First Sgt was sticking out of and shooting. He yelled “Tell him to stop fucking shooting over my head!!!” Shit. My bad. I looked over and my PLT Sgt who was sticking out the hatch next to me a couple seconds ago was now dropped down from the hatch and now on his back. He was yelling, “I’m Hit! I’m hit!” I looked at his helmet and a bullet went right through his helmet and exited through the other side. Holy shit! I didn’t see any blood on him. He looked completely dazed though. He took his Helmet off and observed the holes in his helmet. No fucking shit, the bullet entered his helmet, and exited through the other side, missing his upper forehead by like 1-100th of an inch. A fuckin miricale. He was standing right next to me, that’s how close the bullets were from hitting us. We continued driving. We had to drive to the Mosul Bridge that was right next to the Mosul hotel about a couple miles away. There was reports of a buncha people, wearing all black armed with AK’s hanging out there. Our job was to locate and kill them. We were driving there on that main street, when all of the sudden all hell came down all around on us, all these guys wearing all black (Black pants, and a black t-shirts tucked in), a couple dozen on each side of the street, on rooftops, alleys, edge of buildings, out of windows, everywhere just came out of fucking nowhere and started firing RPG’s and AK47’s at us. I freaked the fuck out and ducked down in the hatch. I yelled “WE GOT FUCKIN HAJI’S ALL OVER THE FUCKIN PLACE!!! THERE ALL OVER GOD DAMNIT!!!” Bullets were pinging off our armor all over our vehicle, and you could hear multiple RPG’s being fired and flying through the air and impacting all around us. All sorts of crazy insane Hollywood explosions bullshit going on all around us. I’ve never felt fear like this. I was like, this is it, I’m going to die. I cannot put into words how scared I was. The vehicle in front of us got hit 3 times by RPG’s. I kind of lost it and I was yelling and screaming all sorts of things. (mostly cuss words) I fired the .50 cal over the place, shooting everything. My driver was helping me out and pointing out targets to me over the radio. He helped me a lot that day. They were all over shooting at us. My PLT was stuck right smack dab in the middle of the ambush and we were in the kill zone. We shot our way out of it and drove right through the ambush. The street we were driving down to escape, had 3 to 4 story high buildings all along each side, as we were driving away all you could see were 100’s and 100’s of bullets impacting all over these buildings. Finally we went over to the area we were supposed to be at. We parked the vehicles there, and dismounted the guys. The Pepsi bottling building across the street was all up in flames. Then after a couple minutes, we were told to load up and go back to where we got ambushed. I’m not going to lie, I didn’t want to go back. Fuck that shit, I don’t want to get killed. That was the last place on earth I wanted to be. I was scared to death. But we had to go back, and we did. On the way back I was up out of the hatch, scanning , I saw people running down steets that we passed with AK47’s, I didn’t have a shot at them with the 50, cuz we were going way to fast and how the gun was positioned. We past several men with a AK’s running down a street, I pulled out my Berretta and fired a several shots at them. We rolled back to the area where we all just dodged death, and we were taking fire from all over again. Again, I fired and fired and fired and fired and fired. At everything. We were taking fire from all over. I was just 360ing the 50 cal and shooting at everything. We were taking fire from all over, and every single one of us had our guns blazing. At one time I saw a dog try to run across the street, and somebody shot it. Again, at one time I had the 50 cal traversed and pointing all the way back of the vehicle and I was firing at some guys who were shooting at us up on a rooftop, and I didn’t know I was shooting right above the guys heads who were in the back airguard hatchs on our vehicle. My roommate (Sgt from Idaho) tapped my arm, which startled the hell out of me and I quickly jerked back and looked at him and he yelled, “Hey!! Get that gun to the 12!!! Let that one go!! Your doing good!!!” He later told me, when he tapped me on the shoulder, and I jerked back to look at him, I had this crazed look in my eyes that kind of freaked him out. Hovering up above we had Army Kiowa and Apache helicopters flying around. At one time I had to grad something from outside, and on top of the vehicle. So with my hands I did the sign of the cross thing on my chest, said a prayer (Please god, I don’t want to fucking die) and as my Plt Sgt layed down some suppressive fire, I got up out of the hatch, got my whole body completely outside of the vehicle and went over, got what I needed and went back to the hatch, as fast as possible. Scared out of my fuckin mind as I did this. RPG’s were still whizzing by and non-stop gun shots were being fired all over. We had our guys in 3rd Sqd dismounted, they had both 240’s with them and they were in heavy contact with the enemy, firing AT4’s and everything they had at them. Strykers were also launching missiles back at them. I got down in the hatch and started scanning my sector with the 50. Suddenly about 300 meters away I saw 2 guys creeping around this corner, they were hunched down sneaking around hiding behind a stack of truck tires. I could tell by their body language something was up. I placed the cross hairs right on them, but I didn’t fire, because I didn’t see a weapon on them and I wanted to wait. Next thing you know, I saw another guy come out of that corner with an RPG in his hands. I freaked the fuck out and yelled “RRRPPPPGGGGGGG!!!” My hands was shaking like crazy, my cross hairs were bouncing all over the screen. I gathered my composure as fast as I could, put the cross hairs on them and engaged them with a good 10 round burst of some 50 cal, right at them. Get Some. My Plt Sgt said “good job!”. I didn’t see anybody move from behind those tires after that. Shortly after that the vehicle parked directly in front of us took an RPG. This gunfight went on for 4 1/2 hours. A Stryker got fucked up with three RPG’s, and their TC (The guy who wrote SOF magazine that letter) took shrapnel to the face, and had to go back for medical attention. So 3nd squad was now going to roll in our vehicle because there vehicle was all fucked up and had go back to the FOB to be repaired. The ING’s showed up, and they were clearing the buildings on the street. 3nd squad was helping them, and I was providing over watch for them with the 50. Then all the sudden mortars started impacting around us. These bastards were now firing mortars at us. Time passed and we were extremely low on ammunition and all out of water. My entire DCU uniform was completely wet from sweat and filth. So we all mounted up and drove back to the FOB to get more ammo, water and re-fuel. On the way to the FOB we passed a watermelon stand, all the watermelons had bullet holes in them. In fact, everything on that street had bullet holes in it. The cars, the buildings, everything. There were thousands and thousands of brass shell casings littered all over the streets. Our vehicle was also covered inside and out with brass shell casings and links. Once we got to the FOB, and parked near the motor pool to re-supply, a Sgt ran up to us holding all his gear and his kit and asked, “Hey you guys rolling back out? Do you have room for one more?” This guy who asked us if he could ride with us back out, was in that vehicle that was right in front of us earlier that got RPG’d. They had to drive back to the FOB because the LT was seriously hurt. And now he was now asking us if he could come with, to go give em some more hell. We had no room for him in our vehicle, we were jam packed because we had the guys from third squad with us because there vehicle was out of commission from multiple RPG hits. Since there was no room for him, he gave us all the ammo and his water he had on him, and told us “Go get em.” By now it was night, and we were now fully stocked and ready to roll back out. I didn’t want to go back out, but you don’t have a choice, you have to. Right when we were about to leave the gate, they told us to go back to the motor poll and stand by. So we drove back packed the vehicles, and waited. I was chain smoking right now, one right after another. My nerves were completely shot and I was emotionally drained and physically exhausted. My hands were still kinda shaking. I was sitting up against the tires by myself on the side of the vehicle smoking a cigarette. I’ve never been through anything like that. I’ve never felt fear like that. And I’ve never seen anything like that. Usually these guys do this hit and run bullshit, but these guys today were on the offensive and showed no fear of us. My friend from San Diego, came over and sat next to me. Asked if I was O.K., and I told him “I don’t know.” We discussed everything that happened today, how it went down, what he did, what I did, what they did. Then the Battalion Commander came by the motor pool to check up on us and told us all we all did a great job today. Finally they told us to go back to our rooms. I went back to my room, thanked god, and passed out on my bed.

Note: I dont think CNN’s report of only 12 dead is accurate.

Quote of the day: “I just want this day to end.”

If you get a chance, do check out the other posts he has left up. And I know this might seem a little out of place here on Shyzer, but I promise it will all make sense in due time kiddos.

The only Australian I know is “Fosters”

September 7th, 2004 at 03:34 pm

“Ryan, you have absolutely no reason to worry about graduation. All you need is this pre-modern European Hist….wait, you know what? Screw that. Take 6 hours of History classes and 6 hours of whatever else you want and I’ll clear you for graduation.”

“Are you serious?”

“Enjoy Australia!”

Needless to say, I’m more giddy then a schoolgirl right now.

Busy, Part II

September 2nd, 2004 at 02:59 am

I’ve never been one to keep myself excessively busy. It’s just never been my style. For me, it used to be that whenever I had some free time, I would just hang around and relax. It was peaceful. It was unwinding. It let me mind run free.

Which is where things have gone wrong. My mind wandering like it used to seems more of a liability now then an asset. It always leads me to places I don’t want to be and to thoughts I don’t want to think right now. It did nothing but agitate and foment these feelings inside of me, so I started doing the only thing I could think of to stop it. I made sure that I stayed busy.

It’s crazy how busy I am now. Before, somebody would ask me what I was doing next weekend and I would laugh at them and let them know that anything over 10 minutes away was too far in the future for me to plan. Now I have virtually every weekend for the next month slammed with things I agreed to do. I think I’m looking most forward to next weekend when the famously dubbed “Swagger Party” is being held in our building. Maybe, just maybe, Shyzer might get its first drunken post in its history that night. I said maybe.

Chong is coming down this Friday for the Jackson Crossing show (Friday night, 9:00 PM, @ Delaney’s folks. Be there.) and then in just 10 short days after that we are heading up to Charlotte to see the Packers take on the Panthers. The game might not be exactly how I envisioned it happening, but at least this way I still get to go and Alex and I get to make good on that age-old promise we’ve always had with each other: Seeing Brett Favre play in person. I honestly couldn’t be more excited about the game and trust me, there will be plenty of words spent on that evening in a future post.

I’ve been carrying on with my training as well. Living with Fellner means I have a partner to go running with every night and that brand new gym down the road, which is free, has just been screaming my name lately. I’ve played more games of pickup football during the past month then I think I have in my entire life and Softball season is just around the corner. I had forgotten how far I could push my body physically and now that I’ve reminded myself, it feels great.

Tomorrow I find out a good chunk of information about whether or not I’ll be able to do what it is I want to do next semester. I seriously pray that everything will work out like I want it to because frankly, I need it. If all is well, expect a post in the near future about it.

But in the end, I still feel as if there is more I should do. I keep pushing myself further and harder to try and accomplish things and I can already hear that little voice in my head slowly saying “Just keep this up you idiot. Sooner or later it’s going to catch back up with you and you’ll come crashing down in a flaming heap.” Maybe he’s right. But until then, I’m sticking with what works.

Maybe one day I’ll understand why

August 17th, 2004 at 01:14 pm

There’s nothing quite like feeling alone and depressed at the same time. It’s a feeling I would never wish upon anyone…

I moved back to Columbia yesterday. After I finished moving into my loft, I drove down to Charleston in a vain attempt to see a few people. Nobody answered their phone, so I ended up just turning around and driving straight into rush-hour traffic on my way back to Columbia, At least there was some humor involved as I watched somebody try to mark his territory.

Classes start this Thursday and for some reason I am not looking forward to this semester at all. I know this is just a funky mood I am in, but I still wish I could somehow fast-forward to next semester and leave South Carolina behind. There’s nothing left for me here and I need to start over fresh, clean, and new someplace else. I do find some small comfort as I remind myself “Only four more months…only four more months…”

Oh yeah, I finally got my phone turned back on. About damn time, huh?