mychai's Diaryland Diary

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I am starting a new, fun project! Get involved!

Wow. Two lies in two consecutive entries.

In the first one, I said that I would update every day from Colorado. You would wake up reading stories of me skiing between trees and boulders before hitting a buried tree stump and flying about 10 feet sans skis before landing face-first in three feet of fresh powder. Which really happened, by the way.

But the daily updates from Colorado didn't happen. I said I was sorry. Jeez. Yall are like a bunch of co-dependent girlfriends.

Then, on Sunday night, I said I was going to updated much more regularly. Of course, I said that before realizing that I had a whole bunch of sleep to make up. I got in from work on Monday, and basically just crashed.

Had I written an entry, it would have looked suspiciously like, "Blah blah blah. Mutter mutter mutter. Gobbeldy goop. Gobbeldy goop. Gobbeldy goop."

Because those are the only things I know how to write when I am as tired as I was on Monday.

And then last night -- we'll call it Tuesday night -- I ended up going to bed at 7:00, thinking that I would sleep for a few hours then wake up and write an entry. Next thing I know, Katie Couric is waxing poetic about how smelly crotches will affect your kids. Or how some stupid shit will affect your kids.

That's all she talks about anymore. She will say "How," read the headline and add the phrase, "will affect your kids." For example, on Yahoo! News right now, I will steal a headline and add to it Katie-style:

How The Sun on a Magnifying Glass Set Fire to a Man will affect your kids.

I don't have kids, Katie. And even if I did, I doubt the impeding talks with North Korea will really imact their lives. They are much more interested in eating boogers and chasing girls.

Hell. That's all I am interested in at the moment.

By the way... What's the difference between boogers and broccoli.

Kids won't eat broccoli.

Thank you very much. I'll be here 'til Friday. Try the veal. Tip your waitresses.

Before coming home and crashing head-first into my pre-heated, electric blanket-laden bed (oh, my god, it's almost better than a woman), I went to talk to my Air Force recruiter.

Supposedly, business is way up lately. Either the job market sucks more than I originally thought, or people really wanna go get Saddam. I dunno.

When I first started joining up in the Air Force, I had originally wanted to leave in mid-January. That would get me through the holiday triad (Thanksgiving, Christmas time, and New Years) and it would be after I went skiing. I wanted to take one more trip with my poops peeps. After all of that was over, I was ready to head off to boot camp.

But the Air Force had a different idea. They wanted me to sit on my hands for five months -- almost six -- and leave in late May. So, I called Mr. Recruiter and told him that, if I get a different job, I would leave earlier.

I went in and filled out some paperwork. I told that crazy Air Force, I said, "Look here, people. I want to leave early! So, you better give me a different job so I can leave early."

I requested the job of Air Traffic Control.

Everybody now say, "Oooooooo!"

He told me, basically, that it could happen or could not happen. If it did happen, they could call and give me two month's advance warning or could give me three days.

Which means I have to live out of boxes for possibly the next five months. Which sucks.

I really don't like that possibility. But I also wouldn't mind leaving before May. I just hope that they give me the two month's notice. That would mean I could move my stuff back to Mississippi, go travelling for a month to see some friends, then fly away.

If I am given three days' notice, then it would be a really, really long time before you heard from me.

I am about done filling out all of my postcards from my trip.

I love getting postcards. They aren't as enjoyable as getting a nice, hand-written letter, but they are the next best thing. The pictures are usually nice, and you have to express a lot in a small amount of space. That's when you learn to say what you really need to say.

While I was writing out the last of my postcards, I was wishing that I was getting those postcards. Colorado is a pretty place. And I take time writing my postcards to friends.

This got me thinking...

I have about 60-70 people who read this diary every day. If everyone who reads this were to send me a postcard, I would be most happy.

And I thought, "Hmm. If they send me a postcard from their hometown, I am sure they would like a postcard from me from Columbia."

And so I came up with this most delightful idea: Why don't I request people to send me postcards from their hometown? Or at least their geographic region. And when they send me one, I will send them one back!

So, whatcha think? Would you forego a soda so you could spend 25� on a postcard and 24� on a stamp just to make me happy? I promise you I will send you one in return.

If you want to participate, email me with your address, and I will email you with mine. Postcards will be zooming left and right across the United States.

What would be fun is if we could get multiple diaries to do this. We could set up a database. And if we got, say, 100 people to sign up and promise to send five postcards, then 100 people would get five postcards.

How about we do that? Email me if you want to add the JP Postcard Project to your diary. We will get this thing going. It will be great fun! People could spend an extra ten minutes and find a really interesting postcard. I found one postcard in Colorado that had wildflower seeds included in it. That, my friend, was kewl.

So... that's it from the JP camp.

I am going to Kansas City tonight for dinner with some of my TV friends. Then we are going to the casino. My favorite place!

Everyone is allowed one unhealthy vice. Gambling just happens to be mine. I don't have a problem, though I have had dreams about it over the past three nights. I think that's a bad sign.

When a 25 year-old man quits dreaming about a naked Latitia Casta carousing through his apartment and begins dreaming about playing craps, you know something is up.

I am sure to have plenty to write about tomorrow. As of right now, I need to go pay some bills and get some breakfast.

(ps. What's another difference between boogers and broccoli? People don't eat broccoli at stoplights.)