I googled myself, and now I think I'm going blind

Because I care about you, the taxpayer, I spend a lot of time at my federal job, where I am the communications officer for my battalion. I lead 12 highly motivated Soldiers (and one dud, but that's another post...) and we are a streamlined, efficient machine, dedicated to communications excellence. Because of our efficiency, I spend a lot of time on the Internet, and frequently will browse around looking for information on my favorite topics. And thus it was, early one afternoon, that I googled my name. The first two hits are this blog. But then I saw this guy:


What? Yeah. My dad is all over the web, in three languages. That's depressing. You'd like to think that you make a difference, and it ends up that all you need to become a web icon is a larger than average forehead.

There are some other Waldo Galans out there, too. For instance, I also saw this guy:


This gentleman's name is Waldo T. Galan, and he's from Mexico and Texas. He apparently recently passed away, which is sad. The world needs more Waldo Galans.

At first I though this was just another guy blessed with an awesome name like Waldo Galan. But then I looked closer, and started noticing similarities between him and my dad. Well, mostly one similarity: Forehead Size. I don't believe this is a coincidence.

So someone tell me- do you all think I'm related to this guy? Am I doomed to have a giant forehead? And how can I become so efficient that I don't even need to show up to work?

An open letter to writers on strike

Dear Striking Writers:

I am writing on behalf of television and movie viewers everywhere to tell you that we are disappointed in your decision to stop writing and instead strike. I think I speak for everyone concerned when I say that your unwillingness to continue working in spite of conditions you think are "unfair" and "cheating you out of money you've never had before and wouldn't know what to do with if you had it" is making things pretty hard for us, the common viewer. I am, of course, speaking of tonight's last episode of "the Office."

Let me give you a completely hypothetical example of how this strike could affect a person. Say, for instance, that you are a Captain in the military, and that you loved watching the Office. And then, say, you found out one day that the show you loved to watch, because it made you laugh and gave you something to talk about with your coworkers, your comrades, literally, in arms, well, say that show was canceled without any kind of plot device telling you that it was going to happen. If that happened, you might be so frustrated that you said really hurtful things to your Soldiers, causing them to not be able to focus, causing them to fail to complete a seriously mission-critical task, causing the national security to be compromised, allowing Al Qaeda to attack, and causing American Soldiers to be killed. So you see, your strike is killing Americans. And puppies.

Please, writers, be American Patriots. Start writing. Write the Office again. Or I'll report you to Homeland Security.

Love, Waldo

names have been changed to protect the innocent

Greetings, one and all. I am posting yet another one in my series of (nearly) annual blog entries. I intend to make these much more frequent, so we'll see how that goes.

You may have noticed that I changed the name of the Blog. It was formerly "title goes here." It is now "wandering thoughts." I did this for a number of legitimate reasons. Firstly, I thought that three years was enough time to come up with a title. Second, I like the multiple meanings implicit in the title. See, I am going to be deploying to Kuwait in approximately two months and so, in addition to my thoughts wandering around my brainal cavity, my head and brain themselves will be wandering around the world. Multiple meanings. That's the kind of economy the whole world should adopt, so we wouldn't be wasting resources. Studies have shown that if we could all adopt that kind of economic mindset, gas would cost 80 cents per gallon.

So I'm on vacation. This is the first vacation I've taken this year. We left El Paso and drove to California to spend time with family. Also, we were able to attend a movie screening for my good, close, personal friend and movie star, Chris Clark. His movie is called Stalking Santa and its available in Wal-Marts across the land RIGHT NOW. We saw it at a fabulous theater in the Grove mall in Los Angeles. Here's the pic of the front of the DVD:


As you can probably tell from the cover, it's awesome. I'd also like to think that my influence has been felt in the making of this movie, but that's probably not true. Here's a funny story that happened, though. As we were leaving, we were accosted by some random girl who told my wife she knew her. "I know you" she said, which was confusing for us because we had never seen this girl before, ever. Ends up, she knew Jen from the Blogosphere. Her name is Emmy, which is probably the right spelling but who knows (E, I'm sorry if I misspelled your name), and she is very nice.

So that's my brush with celebrity. I gave Chris Clark a hug, met someone new, and saw an awesome movie. I am still in the LA area for another day, so we'll see if I meet someone else. The writers' strike is on now, so I'm sure I'll meet a writer at a restaurant somewhere, as he brings me my Dr. Pepper and burger.

That's all for me right now. I will post again soon, I promise. Have fun out there in internet land.

I heart dirt

Yeah, it's been like months. I know you guys have been checking daily, wondering when I was going to post something, and I know that I have been daily shattering your fragile dreams and hopes by refusing to post anything. It's hard, I know. But please bear with me. I will post new things now and again, so you're just going to have to keep checking back.

So, updates. Let's see, what are the big ones? Jen and I are still married, mostly because I never seem to come home long enough to annoy her significantly. Gigi is still too cute for us to kill (although she's apparently pushing the envelope with Jen. More later). I am still in the army, and got promoted to Captain. That's right, Cap'n G. All that means is that I am doing the same work I was doing before, only now I'm just underpaid, not criminally underpaid.

Another update, for those of you who may not know, is that in the beginning of 2008 I will be deploying to the middle east for about 15 months. We're going to Qatar or Kuwait, so it's not going to be too dangerous.

As a result of the upcoming visit to the sandbox, we are spending significant amounts of time in the field. Luckily, since I manage all the communications, I have hooked myself up with email service and am able to write stuff. Also luckily for me, all the other communications stuff is working now, so I have time to post something.

I feel like I'm rambling because the six hours of sleep I got yesterday are making me delirious. I love my cot and tent.

Back to being in the field... All the time we are spending out here in the field is what drives the title of this blog. I heart dirt. Not only do I heart dirt, I heart it in my nose, ears, eyes and mouth. I heart it in places that we don't mention in polite socitey - places that a wet wipe will just not clean effectively. I heart it in my food and in my clothes, and especially all over my computers and phones. Dirt is really great.

One great thing about dirt is that when you get it wet, it turns into mud. We have had some pretty significant rainstorms out here this past two weeks, and let me tell you, that mud is really something. I mean, dirt is awesome, but when you add water, it just turns into this viscous slime that sticks to everything and turns into cement when it dries. Oh, and when it gets saturated, it forms puddles where mosquitoes breed (in 24 hours or less - seriously) and then come into our tents and bite us in our sleep. And let's not forget, we just had the first case this year of West Nile virus documented in El Paso... not five miles from where we are camped. So at least I've got that going for me.

And the greatest part of the whole thing is that I am going to be living in this same dirt for at least two weeks out of every month between now and October, and then fly for 18 hours to go live in foreign dirt. Yeah, it's dirt on an American military installation, so it's technically not Foreign per se, but it's close enough. I will fill requests for foreign dirt for anyone who wants some. Heck, I will send you some of our fine local dirt if you want some too, just so you can see why I heart dirt so much. I heart dirt.

My new favorite GOB

So, I was at the mall (the Cielo Vista Mall in El Paso, TX, that is) and I saw the job I want to have when I retire. Jen can vouch for this.

No sooner had we walked in, than we saw two (yes, two) uniformed security guards moving forward in some kind of bizarre formations... on Segways. For those of you who don't watch Arrested Development, you should just go to the corner and do the Running Man until you're good and sorry. And then go to this web page: www.segway.com

So these guys beg these questions:

1. How fat/lazy/crippled/retarded do you have to be to need to use a Segway Human Transport System to get around the mall?
2. What do you do if someone, I don't know, starts running?
3. What do you do if someone goes upstairs?

But because I have been trained to provide solutions to problems, here's what I recommend:
1. Lose some weight. If this is not an option, or if you have some kind of thyroid issue, then...
2. Install some kind of turbo. How sweet would you be if you could hit like 50-60 mph on a Segway?
3. Also, install a jetpack. This would go a long way toward that flying car concept we were all promised we'd have by the year 2000 (see the Jetsons)

Then, of course, there's the combat application. Paint it camo, add a machine gun and a grenade launcher, and you'd have the ultimate weapon. Put a couple of midgets on there, and you'd be the scariest army in the world.

That's just what I think, though

Just to recap

OK, Jen's been gone for four days. Here's the recap:

day one: Soccer game, wallowing in filth, no sleep. See post below. Lunch: tuna Lunchable. Dinner: hot dogs (microwaved, eaten on white bread), ice cream for dessert. Bedtime: 1:45 am.

day two: worked late, came home, fell asleep in uniform on the floor while watching Spin City. Woke up approx 7:30 pm. Rented "The Longest Yard" remake with Adam Sandler. It's actually really funny. Dinner: steaks and salad. Bedtime: 12:30 am

day three: left work at about 5:00, went home. Fell asleep on the floor watching Spin City. Woke up approx 8:00 pm. Watched House, Criminal Minds, CSI. Dinner: Golden Grahams and a Coke. Bedtime: 1145 due to early basketball game.

day four (ongoing): Teleconference with Korea at 5:30 pm, will arrive home approx 7:45. Woke up to go to the game, but the dogs escaped. Spent 2.5 hours looking for the little sons of guns throughout the neighborhood. Missed the game. Boss is angry with me. Lunch: sandwich at applebee's. Dinner: to be determined (probably popcorn or chips and salsa).

This is how pathetic I am. Please help.

I am useless

I'm a wreck.

Jen went out of town today. This means that I am on my own, left to fend for myself in the bewildering world of cooking and paying bills, doing my own laundry, getting a decent night's sleep, and basically taking care of my personal hygeine.

Not to say that I am some kind of chauvinist. I realize that Jen (who does these things because she is a wonderful person) is not bound by some kind of traditional gender role into doing all of these things. I am just saying that, left on my own, I am a complete mess.

Just a little illustration here- last night (night one) I had a soccer game. It went til 9:30 pm, after which I went home. A normal, functional adult would go home, drink some water, take a shower, and go to bed in order to get up at 5:30 am and go to work. Notice I stipulated a normal, functional adult. What did I do? I naturally stayed up until about 12:45 watching CSI reruns and wallowing in my filth. Then I took a shower (give me some credit) and went to bed. I couldn't sleep, though, so I read until about 1:45 am when I finally crashed. This is not good. Today I am a complete mess and have had to resort to Monster Energy Drinks to keep myself awake and functioning at minimum capacity.

The ONLY good thing about this is that if I have to work late, I don't feel like I'm missing out on family time. But that is small consolation for being a social retard when I'm on my own.

And the thing about it is, I don't know how this happened to me. I am a guy who has gone to live on his own before, deployed to various corners of the world, runs a staff section and is responsible for all of the automations and communications needs of a battalion of 650 personnel. I am not without skills. I just completely fall apart without my wife.

Pathetic, huh?

It's About Time

Yeah, so I have this blog that I haven't touched since January? December? Whatever. I had a thing.

What's new with me, you may ask? Well, let me tell you... not a lot. I've got a new ten pounds on me, and a new appreciation for a full night's sleep. Oh, and I play soccer now (that's "football" if you're a pretentious fop).

Here's something... I was contacted by a relative of mine that I have not spoken to in literally 25 years. I cannot use this person's name or anything because they don't want other members of the family finding out about them, but it sure did come out of the blue for me. I have now picked up an e-relationship with this person and we are catching up. It's weird. But really cool. Families are forever.

Continuing on with stream-of-conciousness, it's midnight and there are still people playing ORGANIZED SOFTBALL at the field behind our house. Midnight. On Thursday. COME ON!! Because naturally this means that the park lights have to be on and that means that it is like daylight in our bedroom because the light shines in the bathroom window. What is really going on?

And to finish up randomly, I have a list. Top five metal songs that when you hear the first eight bars, it is instantly recognizable and you physically cannot stop yourself from making the devil fingers and bobbing your head:

5. Thunderstruck, by AC/DC
4. Ironman, by Black Sabbath
3. Hell's Bells, also by AC/DC
2. Dead or Alive, by Bon Jovi (that's for Jen)
1. Welcome to the Jungle, by GNR

We could go on like this all day. Give me your list of songs. Include pwer ballads if you would. I'm trying to win an argument with a buddy.

-w.

what's wrong with you people??

OK, so I'm reading a blog that was written by a young (12) girl. There are some posts on there that are NOT written by a preadolescent boy, but instead are posted by some sick SOB who has dirty ulterior motives in mind. Here is my question: Where are the parents? Why do the parents not regulate what goes on in the crazy Interweb thing all the kids are doing? To make myself feel better, and to rant insanely, I am going to give a couple of points that you people should follow.

Point 1: (Most important) The computer goes in a public place. No kid gets a computer in their room. Computers are great tools. However, with the amount of really nasty people on the internet right now, and with the amount of horrible places to visit on the net, we as families should remove the threat by ensuring that the computers are in places where we can see what's going on on them.

Point 2: Password protect the monkey out of that thing. No one should be able to get on the computer without parental permission, and the only people who should know that password are the parents. This makes sure that the parents know when the kids are online. And this leads me to point 3.....

Point 3: Learn to use the History tab. The History shows you what web sites have been visited day by day. You can get this by pressing the History button, or you can use the drop down URL bar. Parents (using the password) should be the only ones who delete the History. If it's deleted on a day when you didn't BOTH agree to do it, then you know that someone in the house is deleting it because they don't want you to see what they've been looking at.

Point 4: Kids have no expectation of privacy. Did they pay for the computer? Do they pay for the house? Are they your kids and do you love them? Then you have the exclusive, permanent, and inalienable right to spy on them and search their stuff- physical and intellectual property. If they cry, tell them to suck it up. If they hate you, at least they're not being molested by some mullet-wearing, moustached perv in a minivan. You're in charge. Be in charge.

I guess that's it. Please be responsible adults, and if you can think of other tips, please post them in the comments. And if you know or suspect something is going on with someone, let people know. Start with the parents and go on to the authorities. Do your part.

My Hero

This blog is basically an homage to my wife. She's totally my hero. Let me illustrate:

She's a hottie, and she's a great cook. This hasn't changed since we were 18, other than her cooking skill has improved. She married me when she totally shouldn't have, setting herself up for at least two years of "we're way too young for this." Then, she stayed with me even though I joined the Army. This is significant because she had broken up with a guy before that who was going into the Naval Academy, thinking that she didn't want to be with a military man. While I was in the Army, she moved with me to Monterey, CA, causing her to have to take a year off from school and when she got back to school, they had gotten rid of her program, which she really loved. She's been by herself almost half of the marriage because of my job, and still likes me. She gave up a job that she liked, great neighbors (nayvors), a nice house, and the intermountain west to come to El Piss-o and not be able to find a job. And most recently, even though it drives her insane to be in the house all the time, she stays at home to take care of Gigi.

Those are just some of the reasons. I know I totally married up- she's more educated, smarter, more spiritual, and a better parent than I am. I really don't know what I bring to the relationship other than astoundingly good looks and a mediocre income. I'm lazy, I don't really like to pick up after myself, and I'm really not interested in doing much other than watching TV at night and playing with the baby. Yeah, I'm a catch. And through it all, she stays with me, and was even suckered into marrying me in the Temple, sealing her to me for eternity. Boy, did she get gypped.

I know that she works harder than I do, because I can go to work and have time to do things like post blogs (yes, your tax dollars paid for this. You own an infinitessimally small part of this blog- probably the "s" in "small") while she has to be "on" all the time for Gigi. Plus, work for me is fun (most of the time) and I get to see some of my friends. Meanwhile, she's at home. I know this, and I want to publically say that I appreciate it.

So basically, Jen is the coolest. That's what I'm trying to say. I love her, and I appreciate her, and she's my hero. Maybe I ought to tell her this more when I'm at home, instead of saving it for a public forum like the Internet. I don't know. But at least it's out there now, and everyone knows it.

-w.

Summer Movie Mayhem

Ok. I haven't seen a lot of movies recently because of the whole baby thing, and so I thought it would be a real treat for me to go with the guys to see a movie this past Friday while Jen was having some sort of girly party (pillow fights? lingerie? No man knows.)

So we went to see Transporter 2. Now, I really enjoyed the first one, as implausible as it was. It was just believable enough to make it cool. I mean, someone really did drive the car, and there was a lot of butt-kicking action. So I thought that the second one would be more of the same.

Here's the thing. I am an easy movie audience. I can suspend my disbelief to lengths that really frustrate Jen. Wild driving? Check. Crazy acrobatic Kung-Fu stylings? Got it. Dragons and magic and physics-defying antics? No problem. Really, about the one thing that really gets to me is when there is some kind of realism in the plot, to where we're made to think that this is the "real" world, and then someone pops up with a magically never-ending magazine of 9-millimeter bullets, which then someone proceeds to dodge. Yeah. I'm a nerd, but ballistics is where I draw the line.

So in the interests of full disclosure, I will list my five least believable moments in Transporter 2.

1. OK, so there's a bomb on the bottom of Jason Statham's really really really cool Audi. He happens to see it in a reflection in the puddle over which the car is parked. So far, so good. So the evil villains let him go, thinking to get some distance between themselves and the bomb. Well, Jason knows, so he drives all-out onto the beach, finds a convenient ramp, and guns it. You guessed it, turbo-boost up the ramp, which turns the car over in midair. He then catches the bomb on the convenient hook of a crane that is just right there, the car continues its roll, and he lands perfectly without destroying his axles or exploding his tires as the bomb, hooked onto the crane, explodes.

2. All right, so this crazy psycho chick wearing a lab coat and some skank lingerie who has the body of a 7-year old boy unleashes with two TAC-9 submachine guns. She has two 30-round magazines. In my elementary school, we learned that 30+30=60, not 360. Nevertheless, she never reloads. Argh.

3. In an attempt to get the antidote, Jason Statham dives out of a third-story window.... onto a taxi. Then gets up and runs away. I am kind of an expert in falling down, and there's NO WAY.

4. While trying to get at the Russian scientist (yeah, it's a cliche. Haven't you seen the pattern yet?) J.S. is running down a fire escape. He's being shot at, and dodges the bullets. Now, you're saying "Neo dodges bullets, and Jason Statham is like 900% cooler than Keanu Reeves." Yes, but here's the thing: they explain it away in the Matrix by saying we're all basically meat batteries for a computer, whereas the Transporter exists in the "Real" world of Miami. Remember what I said about suspending disbelief? There you go.

5. In the drug dealer's mansion, J.S. and crazy psycho 7-year-old-boy lady are having a fight. Well, Jason's sort of standing there, while the girl is swinging from Mardi Gras beads and trying to hit him. I have seen MANY kung-fu movies, and that was the suckiest scene that ever sucked. It was terrible, and very anti-climactic.

Those are 5. There are more, but I'm too depressed that I paid eight dollars to see that crap. It's entertaining, but either rent it or see it at the dollar movies. If you're going to do it in El Paso, though, make sure that the pimply-faced teen usher Gestapo don't see you with your own smuggled-in treats, or they'll make you give them up in an embarrassing scene right in the middle of the movie.... so I've been told.

OK, now you. What are your least believable movie scenes? Remember, it has to be set in the "real" world. I know broomsticks don't fly. However, if you can explain it away using the rules of the "imaginary" world the movie is set in, then go ahead.

The Running Man

Let me just tell you how much I hate running. I probably run about 15-20 miles a week in a normal week, and I hate running. I'm not a bad runner. I'm actually pretty average. The problem is, I can think of at least 5 unpleasant things I would rather do than run. As a matter of fact, here's the list:

1. Go to the dentist. I don't floss, so going to the dentist is painful for me. I would still rather go to the dentist than run four miles (the normal run here in C Battery). The dental clinic here has a technician who is at least 100 lbs overweight and has man-hands, so you feel like someone's trying to cram sausages in your mouth and then poke you with sharp metal things, and you know what? I would STILL rather go to the dentist than run.

2. Clean the garage.

3. Sit through a three-hour meeting. I have a superior officer who is my Battalion Executive Officer. I'll call him Chuck. He will happily talk for three hours about NOTHING, and then expect us to know everything that's going on in the Battalion (that's a lot of people and events). He also loves Power Point. By contrast, it takes me about a half hour to run 4 miles. The meeting is better.

4. Speaking of Power Point, I would rather make up a 45-minute Power Point presentation about ANYTHING than run. I would rather do a presentation about running than actually run.

5. I would rather eat crappy Mexican food and get the runs than actually run. At least with the runs, I'd get some reading done.

Yeah, I'm lame. Here's how lame. I was feeling motivated the other night and so I got on the treadmill, thinking that I would run while watching one of my favorite shows, The Closer. I set it to a 9-minute mile pace (very slow) thinking that I would run 4 miles and the show would be just about over. I did two miles easily, and could have run more with no problems, but I was so bored that I just quit. Not because I was tired or hurt or anything, but because I was bored. Lame.

How do you feel about running?

Yeah, I've got a blog too.

Yeah, I've got a blog too.

My wife has one, my friends have one, and now I have one. Give it up for peer pressure. My first posting is just a desperate plea for people to read. I promise to do my best to make it interesting or funny, but at the end of the day, I just want people to read it and post stuff.

OK, so a little about me. My name is Waldo. Yeah, insert stupid joke here. I guarantee you that I have heard every single "where's Waldo" joke, and even most of the Van Halen "Hot for Teacher" references. I am married, and have been for eight and a half years. My wife's name is Jen, and she has a blog called "elpasorepresentyo". I am an Army officer stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas, in the scenic city of Occupied Northern Juarez, otherwise known as El Paso, TX. I work in the Air Defense field, so don't bother lobbing a tactical ballistic missile at me, or I'll have to shoot it down. Jen and I have a little daughter named Georgia Grace (GiGi) who is by far the prettiest baby in history. I'm sorry, I'm sure that you all love your kids, but empirically speaking, GiGi blows them all out of the water. Link to our website at http://galanapalooza.hopto.org

Anyway, Jen and I moved out here from Utah. At this point, I want to send a little shout out to Jen. She is the coolest, most supportive, most wonderful person ever. Also, she's a great cook and a little hottie. She quit a job and left a house where she had friends and some awesome neighbors in order to come down here to the desert and swelter along with me. Then, once we adopted, she decided she didn't want to work in order to raise GiGi. She rules.

Continuing on, I expect to be here in El Paso for the next couple of years at least. It's a fun time.

Ok. Now you all post something. If it's original, I'll take a where's waldo joke. If it's not original, expect to get mocked. Try not to be profane, because who knows who's going to read this.

Ready... GO.
-w.