The Worst Thing Ever

Turns out when you have to sit in an empty building overnight with a computer and one sleeping person- you get real bored. And then you google 'the worst thing ever'. This is the first image that comes up. I don't know why it's the worst thing ever, or what it exactly is- other than that it has the shape of a teddybear. Upon closer inspection it appears to be made out of insulation. Just like the creepy rooms in the attic full of insulation, discarded whiteboards and broken flourescent light bulbs.

Next installment will address what I mean when asked "How's Army?" and I reply- 'Well it's Army...' Also, hopefully will link to my new blog 'Things I've learned in Army'. Maybe we'll get it off the ground or something.

On Furniture

Yeah, so I don't like furniture. I mean- don't get me wrong, I like using furniture. I just don't like the idea of owning furniture. It's so... adult. It reeks of the establishment and the Man. I can't stand it. And yet it's so comfortable to have furniture. For that matter, a place to keep the furniture and use it. In other words, a house. I can't even fathom owning a house. It seems so responsible. You might say- aren't you an infantry lieutenant who will soon be responsible for 40 men and millions of dollars in equipment, not to mention responsible for guarding our national interests? What's owning a table that's worth 200 dollars really matter? On the surface there's no question that being responsible for other people's lives is infinitely more than owning some amount of property. It's not that I fear responsibility. It's the implications of owning furniture. Of settling down and playing nice and buying into the American Dream. Buying a table that you intend to keep, or owning the bed I'm laying down on is merely the first step in the path towards hell. I mean towards selling out.

I can't decide if it's better to be a sell out or to be an idealist who is unattached from reality. Ultimately this sort of internal conversation about the merits of selling out probably has very little meaning for most of you. I relished being homeless last year. Not that the experience itself was all that fun. It's really not all that fun. This is mostly attributed to the lack of planning or preparation on my part. It's not the experience's fault that I didn't choose a 24 hour storage unit. I digress. The point here is to, assess the merits of selling out versus not selling out. And is it really selling out? I probably could just bring the table with me to my next PCS and then throw it away and buy a new one. By throw it away I mean give it away(obviously). That's the solution, I think. Buy all new furniture every time you move. Ultimately my goal is to move into a rv of some sort. At this point in this discussion, I need to open the floor to discussion because I'm rambling and digressing further and further from the point of departure. The central tenet is that I believe that furniture is a step on the path towards selling out. Anything else in this post is subject to change. Also- sorry that it's so wordy. I'm trying to put more pictures in now that I have a new computer. Ok, then.