Last Man Standing...

Just musing on the past a bit this morning. I am now the last man here in Baghdad from the team that moved operations from one location to another with zero downtime. I mean, we're talking 1500 users, lots of servers and lots of network support infrastructure. No mean feat to be taken on in the USA. But to do it in the middle of a warzone, well, let's just say we're talking lots of tricks and no small amount of on the fly engineering along with judicious use of spit and ducttape. I honestly think we earned the right to use the A-Team theme from this one. I love it, when a plan comes together.

It's kinda weird knowing that I am the senior man on site in terms of length of service though, as I had no intention of ever being *that* crusty old dude. And yet here I am, bent back, wobbly knees, cane and all. More or less.

I came to Baghdad with a plan, one year, maybe 18 months at the most. Make my goals, and then out. Now I've been here nearly double that, and I still haven't made my goals, in fact, sometimes I feel like I am starting all over again.

I won't get into why, it's definately as much my fault as anyone elses. Thing is, it can be depressing to feel like you have done three years or so in a place and really, haven't moved forward very much at all. Like you've wasted part of your life, spinning your wheels in gravel for too long; it's no longer cool, it just looks foolish.

In fact, I have learned the lesson of Sisyphus, whom the Gods had condemned to roll a rock up a hill. When he got right near the top the weight of the rock rolled back over him, and down the hill. And so he has to get up, dust himself off, go back, and start all over again. The punishment you see, is the feeling of futility and the knowledge of hopeless labor. And damn, that's how it feels sometimes. Forever and ever. Never raching the goal. And stuck in a place that more and more I don't really want to be.

The people are still good and that is what keeps me here I suppose. But as someone I respect said a while ago.. once you hit that wall, you just don't want to be here. More and more I feel like I have hit that wall. I don't want to be here. But I have that rock to push up that hill.

Regards,
-Bouncer-

It takes a Villa...

So I went on R&R back in October of 09, and headed down to St.Maarten. I call it St. Maarten because that's the Dutch side. The French side of the island is St. Martin. And frankly, St. Maarten just somehow sounds more exotic, or something. Say it now, "Saint Mahhh-ten". See? See how it sounds sexier? Anyways, I looked around for a bunch of places to stay, and ended up doing something I've never done before. I rented a Villa. Someones vacation home. A real one.

And here's what I learned, good and bad.

The bad: You have to make your own bed, and there's no room service.
The good: Everything else.

Seriously. The place we stayed was about 140 a night for 7 nights, or less than half the cost of a decent hotel. And it was probably 800sq ft, at least. NOT including the sun decks, the private pool (seen in pic above), the private landscaped entry garden, the free internet, the free cable/sat TV, free local calls, free private parking, gated community etc etc.

We had our own real kitchen with a full size stove and fridge and washer dryer and a huge bedroom, with ceiling fans galore, a high ceilinged living/family room, two bathrooms with showers, one of which had multiple showerheads, private pool service, maid service, landscaping service and so on. More windows than you can shake a stick at. You could easily light up the whole house during the day with just the windows!

Basically a true house, on the side of a hill, overlooking Oyster Pond and a couple of resorts on the Dutch/East side of the Island.

I mean, consider the advantages: You have a real home base without much risk of things getting stolen (and yes there was even a safe for jewlery and the like), you get up in the morning, turn the coffeepot on and have some cereal or some eggs and throw the dishes in the dishwasher before you head out. You are out and about during the day exploring the Island or snorkling, wave riding, whatever, you come home near dusk to YOUR HOME, picking up some french bread, wine and soft cheeses/sausages on the way, chill out for a few hours on the deck or cooling off in the pool, and head out for dinner.

Honestly, if I can afford it, I will be doing the villa thing as much as I can from now on. More space, a better/quieter/more relaxed atmosphere, no hoteliness with strange noises coming from other rooms or the clunky ice machine/elevator next door and impersonal service. The maid, gardner and pool guy all know YOUR name, and are very nice people to boot.

Regards,
-Bouncer-

Problems I don't mind, or my friends at the IRS

So I went on R&R a while back, and had my tax man do my taxes. As an expat in a warzone, I find it a tad easier to let a professional sort everything out, rather than deal with it myself.

Anywhoo, time passed, and I got my state refund, but not my federal.. odd... more time passes because I am used to the pace of Federal Govt operations... some spiders made webs, had kids, retired to florida, puttered around the yard for a bit, and then passed away... and finally I decided to contact my tax guy to see what the dealio was.

Well they checked and got back an ominious message:

"We can tell you nothing. Have him call us with this code at this extension."

An ominious message from my dentist is distressing. One from the IRS is heart attack inducing. I have a healthy paranoia when it comes to people who can, by *accident* seize everything I've ever owned or ever will own, much less if they do so on purpose. AND they are federal gov't employees. Which, basically, means I've got the DMV in charge of whether I go to jail for some random violation I had no idea existed. So yeah, I'd rather be legally so far off their radar that I might as well be on the moon. Which is why I don't play games. I take no deductions. None. I pay them a ton up front, but I get it all back, and I don't go to jail and lose everything I own in the process.

Now, I'm sure if I were one of those people who excel spreadsheet their twinkie consumption I could do something that might make me a few extra dollars a year by taking 900 deductions and investing wisely and paying them at the end of the year and keeping the difference. "Oh look I made 87 cents off of all that. Which is taxable next year. woo." In other words, blah-blah-blah I don't care. I'd screw it up and go to jail. So I don't bother.

So. The IRS. Wants to talk. To me.

Can I just go jogging down Route Irish dressed in a thong and a rebel flag t-shirt while tossing bibles out to folks instead? Please? No? Sigh...

So I call. And get put on hold.

Now, most agencies and many companies have hold music, and sure enough, it lets you know that your phone call hasn't dropped and that makes sense. Sometimes it's even toe-tapping, though I have yet to hear Stevie Ray Vaughn or AC/DC on hold music yet. Anyways, it's the IRS. I'm calling from Baghdad and I'm on hold. The music?

The Nutcracker Suite.

(blink)

... (blink blink)

I couldn't make that up! Why not have "Momma said knock you out!" while they're at it? There has *got* to be some twisted sense of humor over there. I mean, seriously. You call the IRS and get to listen to The Nutcracker Suite? What. The. HELL!?!?! That cannot be an accident. It can't. It's just a subtle warning is what it is. Sort of a "You're next. Please hold for your executioner, make sure not to bleed all over the floor, we wouldn't want an unsafe workplace, now would we" Said in a perfectly calm, reasonable voice that makes you want to drop the phone and run screaming into the hills.

So. I am finally speaking with a real live human, who informs me that basically, they owe me too much money.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?" Yeah, that's what I thought too when he said it.

"Go on, drop the other shoe." It's okay, that was my next thought too. But it turns out... they owe me too much money. I know! Stop sputtering! Here's the deal. I set up direct deposit for my refunds, no big deal. And I pay all my taxes up front too, remember that part from earlier? So I get larger refunds, remember?

It turns out, the IRS doesn't do direct deposit over a certain amount, so they want to mail me a paper check, which they did. To my home of record. In the states. Where the Post Office promptly returned it from. Since there is apparently no way the US Post Office will forward a gov't check to a different address. In a different country.

So they have my money in an account, waiting for me. On my next R&R I need to call before I leave so they can send the check again, because it takes 3 to 6 weeks for them to process it. I then have to get the Post Office to hold my mail for pickup while I am home. Then I have to pick up and then deposit the check. Which will probably trigger a red flag with some anti-terror funding something or the other and the FBI will want to know where I suddenly got this money from and have I declared it with the IRS and do you speak cuban/spanish Mr. Guantanamo bound??!?!

Still. The Nutcracker Suite. Out of all the non-descript muzak in the world you selected that? Really?

Regards,
-Bouncer-

Rollin' rollin' rollin'.. rawhide!

Welp, heading out on R&R. Man it feels good to start shaking the dust off physically, mentally and emotionally. I cannot wait to see my family, my friends, and of course, my girl!

I missed both Thanksgiving and Christmas last year because of this place, and resolved never to miss both because of work again. So I picked Thanksgiving, and fought hard for an R&R when a lot of others were getting cancelled. To me though, it was never a question of whether I would be coming home for turkeyday. Only a question of whether it would be a round trip or not.

The job continues on, as it always does. So much to do, this place will never really be static. No place is, of course, but this place.. new projects always seem to start before old projects start winding down. The pace is hectic and frustrating and builds up a lot of stress in you over time.

Still, I am at the way station on my way out of country, and I can't wait to begin the rest of the journey!

I am coming home. I love my girl, my family and my friends, and I cannot wait to see them all.

Oh yeah, taking the girl on a Carribean cruise while I'm home, so there's that, too! Going from total do it yourself to toal pampering is gonna weird me out a bit at first I think. However, I will struggle to endure the deep tissue massages and cocktails with little umbrellas and walks on the beach with my love. I will soldier on!

Regards,
-Bouncer-

It's been a while

It's been a while, hasn't it? Been a very long, very hot summer which is finally coming to a close. It feels like I spent the entire month of August and most of September with my head down, just trying to endure.

I don't mean to whine, I know many others have it tougher. Still, it's just an experience you have to live through, there's really no way words can do it justice. High stress and high temps make for a zombie like existence where you just keep walking along slowly with no destination in sight. Just keep moving baby, keep on moving.

But the weather, has turned. It is cooler now, in the mid-90's during the day and into the mid 80's at night. And once again, it feels like light jacket weather when it's below 92F or so. Which is, again, weird. It's just not ..right. The leaves on the trees are turning and drifting down onto the armored vehicles. Which is weird, because it's still 94F and yet the tree has decided it's autumn. I wonder how it'd react to 50F in the States. Probably drop all it's leaves at once. Fwoosh! Like that.

And the girl and I are toughing it out. It's not easy on either of us, the seperation. Still, I'll be home for an R&R soon enough, and I keep myself busy with thoughts of that, so that I don't get all depressed all the time.

And I turned 40 while over here. That, was.. feh. 4-0. Officially old n' stuff. But I don't feel it, anyone who knows me will tell you I don't act it, and I don't want to be it. So I'm not going to be. So nyah. Still, it was nice, they had a mini-party for me and a there was cake and stuff, plus, my family sent me cards and my girl sent me an awesome hand made birthday card. That's why I love her. One of the many reasons, actually. I mean, does YOUR girl MAKE you a birthday card? No? Ha! Sucks to be you! :p My girl rocks!. Nuff' said.

I was taking the mini-bus into work today, and I saw a very odd thing. They use bomb sniffing dogs out here, and they transport them in dog carriers on trailers attached to the back of vehicles. So we're pulling out of a compound, and this vhicle with dog trailer goes by, and it's being chased by four local/wild dogs. It was like a dog race or something straight down the middle of the four lane road. It's just another moment around here that makes you shake your head or rub your eyes to see if you're really seeing what you think you're seeing.

I am happy the weather is turning though. Finally. It makes everything easier. Still cannot WAIT to get out of here for R&R though. Cannot wait to see my girl, and my family, and my friends. Cannot come soon enough. I'll try to write a little more often now that I'm leaving the zombie zone.

Regards,
-Bouncer-