Well a little over a week into the new year and nothing new as of yet.

Thus far I have stuck to my exercise program and I have also yet to stray from my resolution to not consume fast food. I've also read 70 pages of the first novel in the Modern Library's 100 Greatest Novel list and so just have about 800 pages to go before I move on to novel no. 2.

I'm also still unemployed.

I had an interview today that I think went well--but then I think they all go well. We'll see. Maybe I should join the armed forces. Yeah right as if they'd have me.

A younger buddy of mine left for Marine bootcamp the other day. I went to his going away party at the local VFW Hall. It was touted as a family affair so I *almost* brought my wife and kids. I'm glad I didn't. Turns out the hall is separated from the bar by a piece of carpeting so really it would have been inappropriate to have children there.

Anyway, I'm hanging out and I see an old buddy from High School that I haven't seen in 10 years or more. He was a cousin of the kid going to bootcamp. Last I had heard he had become a career Armyman. He was looking huge: about 6'4 and full of muscle. So I go over and say hi etc and at first he can't remember my name. Says he recognizes me and after reminding him he remembers and more memories of times spent hanging out and skating come back to him. He apologizes for not remembering and tells me, Yeah, I just got back from an 18 month tour in Iraq. After the second car bomb attack I noticed that my memory started to waver, he explained. 

We stood by the bar and he went on to describe the feeling of being hit by a car bomb. He said it was like a shockingly painful wave coursing through your entire body. He seemed a little dazed just explaining it. Then, suddenly, we heard a crash from the 'hall' area and saw a table being overturned and bodies thrashing about. One body we both immediately recognized as his little brother. He jumped to attention and entered the mele yelling. I quickly followed suit quietly attempting to restore order. His brother and some huge hick were rolling around the floor, people were screaming, I tried pulling people apart, somebody on the hick's side pushed me, I pulled him off the pile, and then I notice my friend from the Army's aunt trying to restrain him from pounding a terrified looking hick. I went over to assist as best as I can considering his size. I'm looking at him yelling Mike! Mike! No! and he looks at me and it was like he didn't recognize me again. Like he was in another place.     

I can truly say I support the soldiers.

But can't support the trauma of war.