...it might not be much better, but it certainly couldn't hurt.
So; I'm still alive. I know it's been some time since I've updated this, but I did warn you that it was random - and that I have an absolutely horrible track record when it comes to journals, blogs, diaries, and anything else that one is supposed to write in on a daily basis. To update the concerns from last time; the ship is back in the States (currently in a shipyard in Norfolk, VA, as a matter of fact, so I am actually home - a wonderful thing), I did make my goal of 50k words for NaNo, but once again failed to bring the novel to a satisfactory conclusion and then stopped work on it. I did add a little bit this past week, but I haven't a clue yet as to whether or not this is an indication that I'll actually pick it up again.
As far as my recent activities, I just flew home from San Diego; my cousin Curtis died recently from injuries sustained in Iraq, and my parents and I flew to California for the funeral, and to provide what help we could for his family. Curt was a couple of weeks older than I, and his older brother died last year - I'd only met them a couple of times, but their father is my favorite uncle and I hate watching him go through all of this. Funeral vigil and service were very sad, not something at all I'd like to go through again - but then, nobody ever said they were supposed to be pleasant, and having fun wasn't what I was there for.
That said, I'd like my funeral to be a hell of a lot more entertaining - held in a cabin in the woods somewhere, by a crystal blue, and very deep, mountain lake. I'd like an old fashioned wake all night, with whiskey, dancing, and song, and as the sun rises I'd like for my body to be laid in a longboat, with a backpack behind my head, a sword on my chest, and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. Then light the boat on fire and push it out in the lake. An Irish wake, a Viking funeral, and no crying.
Sounds like a plan to me.