Glorious.

I RETURN.

Everything's glorious, and I've decided to buckle-down and commit to joining the Navy in particular. The Guard's just too flaky with its support. I've taken two practice ASVABs and I figure after the third, I'll saunter in like I own the place and hope for the best.

Over the span of my trip, I've gotten a little soft with regard to my work-outs. I'm in the habit of doing them again, though, so I think I'm in the clear. Tonight I'll see if my run-time has suffered at all.
On a similar vein of topic, I've come down with something - I woke up with golf-ball tonsils and tea and the likes doesn't seem to have helped. I probably got it from that angry Chinese woman on my flight home, demanding a transfer to First Class with her husband. She was the only person cycling oxygen at an abnormal rate.

CONTAMINATOR IDENTIFIED.

Ana had a date recently. You have no clue - not an inkling - as to the SHEER VOLUME OF MY UNFLATTERING MAN-SQUEALS released. So many. I think I may be in an irrevocable MAN-SQUEAL DEFICIT. Ana has been one of my greatest friends for like, ages. Several forevers. She's a strong person with a flair for art, music, and fashion that is unrivaled. I sincerely can state I've never known someone with her capacity for it. On occasion, I worry I'm the only person who sees these things, and now that I'm not, I'm immensely proud to learn that  

ANA IS WINNING AT ROMANCE.

Hell yes, Ana. I'm so happy for you. 

The only picture I think adequately expresses my approval is this:

I've also taken to compiling a few small games that I'll be able to play kind of, well, regardless of where I'm at, 'cause of their low demands on computers. The newest addition is one I'm hoping to be a bit like .flow if not more puzzle-centric. It's the mildly acclaimed Ib, pronounced "Eeb".

If you'd like to Follow Along With Me I've taken the liberty of uploading it for you.

I've not a clue what it's about, but I know it takes place in a museum and that it's supposedly quite intense. .flow was glorious because I'd leapt into it both feet at a late hour with no clue what to expect. I'm hoping Ib will be quite the same. It'd interested me, but not enough to play until I saw an artist I enjoy - Hounori - draw some fan-art of it.

Hounori's pretty interesting. I've always liked his work. He's side by side with Onikobe Rin as my favorite, though I think Onikobe still takes the cake at the end of the day. I find Hounori's pictures of himself and his wife and kid to be particularly interesting. Most people don't put themselves out there like that.

Did I mention Hounori Also Does Shirts? He's got a tea-themed one and an RPG themed one.

They're both pretty awesome, and I'd like to get them someday, but right now I just don't have the extra money to be slinging around. Actually, I do, but after my ASVAB, I'd like to pay New York City a visit.

See, I've got two friends - Alex and Claire - who live in the same district of Queens and I figured I'd hitch a bus there and treat them both to a meal. Alex doesn't know what he wants, so it's entirely possible we might just get take out and call it good, but Claire and I have decided on Flan.

I'm bitchin' with Flan, but I have trouble with the Caramel.

If you've never made Caramel, I'll tell you it's deceptively simple. You spoon a metric ass-load of sugar into boiling water, and then - like rice - you don't stir it. You let it sit there and boil until it's brown. However, you need to do it at a PERFECT RATIO OF SOLUTE AND TIME. See, too much, and it'll sink to the bottom of the pot and burn. Too long and it'll actually cook too dark, at which point it looks like caramel, but tastes a lot like ass. If you undershoot it, you wind up with a sheet of congealed sugar over your Flan that resembles a thin dinner-plate, and a watery caramel-flavored syrup.

That said, I think I'm just going to buy a bottle of Dulce de Leche and call it good. If you get it out of the Spanish Goods aisle, you can get it canned for like, a dollar.

I've gotten some mail out, by the by!

I've got some slick bottle-caps from my stay out in the Mojave, and I've begun making them into fashion pins without delay, so I've given a few of the cooler ones to my good friend Agustin! 

I've a bunch from Topo Chico, but I'm afraid all the others are Puerto Rico bound. 

If you'd dig wearing a bottle-cap from a Spanish mineral water company, hit me up, and I'll pass one up your way! I've got four left, or so. I might have a few others hiding in my suitcase or backpack.

In conclusion, I heard Ride Captain Ride on the way to the Airport. It is glorious, and I'll never forget it.

Uncanny - or perhaps curiously auspicious - for a Navy boy bound for a new land. 

God, isn't it funny how things work out?