JJLexi

I think you meant: "People with the summer off need office jobs, too." :)

Its the only one with the cookie crunch!

Happy Birthday! Don't party too hard!

Ok, who put Commander JoNs through the dryer!?

Thank you, I'm glad someone completely understands where I'm coming from. Furthermore. This was the opening game of probably one of the more important non-world cup months for the U.S in recent history. With games against Costa Rica and Honduras in WCQ and games against Italy, Brazil, Egypt, and possibly Spain in the Confederations Cup within the next two and a half weeks, this was the month in which they could have made a statement to the world that the U.S has taken that next step into the elite of the soccer world by catapulting themselves into the top ten in the world rankings. But once again they proved that they are just not quite ready to make that step, and its completely frustrating to me as a U.S Soccer fan. I see that I've broken the rules by staying on topic for two consecutive posts, let me fix that. I can't eat Sushi here in Ohio. Not after living in California. It just doesn't taste right out here.

Why do you go out in a 4-3-3 with two inexperienced outside backs on the road on a fast surface in a place you've never won before? You're just asking for the opponent to open up the field on you for quick strikes and places your offensive chances solely on counterattacks which will never materialize because your midfielders are forced to compensate for your outside backs, leaving no opportunity for a fast transition. I just don't understand Bob Bradley's strategy tonight.

JJ sat up in the bed, unable and unwilling to fall asleep, even for the short nap that he had planned. He was tired. Tired of the nightmares, tired of the stress. There had to be something that could help him. Some sort of cure or treatment. He took a seat at the small desk next to his desk, running his hands through his corded hair. "Computer" The computer beeped. "Pull up all records from. . ." JJ thought about it for a moment, trying to recall where he could find some sort of answers to his problems. Starfleet Medical would probably not have anything yet. But he should have access to Sovereign records from here. "Computer, do you have any information from the Sovereign Medical Institutes?" "Affirmative" He paused for a moment. "Pull up scholarly articles from the Sovereign Neurological Institute." "Unable to comply, too many entries, please narrow your search." "Choose those dealing with Deharmonization." The computer beeped in compliance, downloading 7 articles to the console. The first one on that list was the one that caught his eye. He touched the screen, pulling up that article and began to read. Short and Long Term Neurological Issues of a Mental and/or Biological Nature Linked to Deharmonization in Brythtons. Rmi Bloi, Baron of Ymal, Honored Doctor of the Sovereign Neurological Institute Yn'na Ddi, Honored Doctor of the Sovereign Neurological Institute Abstract The Sovereign Neurological Institute conducted a longitudinal prospective cohort study to track and map neurological problems that may arise due to Deharmonization. The study consisted of 240 Brythtons; 120 males and 120 females. Of which, 60 males and 60 females had been previously assigned duties which required Deharmonization. The participants were tracked over a period of 30 years. The study concluded that all citizens who went through Deharmonization suffered immediate minor hypothalamic and frontal lobe trauma. Such damage leads to a host of disorders and health issues, including lack of sleep, loss of appetite, decreased mood, nightmares and severe headaches. More severe cases included seizure disorders, dementia, partial paralysis, schizophrenia, and gradual loss of neurological functioning resulting in death. Methods to combat or prevent these issues are currently being studied. Lack of sleep, loss of appetite, nightmares. . . That was it. That was him. A sudden chill went up his spine has he read the next sentence over again. Seizure disorders, dementia, partial paralysis, schizophrenia, death. Those were facts that were conveniently left out during the selection process. He skipped through the article to the individual case assessments, he found he self reading about a male participant simply known as "Deharmonized Male Participant # 12" which was shortened to "DM12". DM12 served as a spy against the Breen Confederacy, staying in Breen territory for over 3 years. DM12 claimed that during his assignment, there were few times where he slept more than 5 hours at a time, as he was consistently interrupted by vivid nightmares, much like JJ had been experiencing. About 2 years after his return to the Sovereignty and his subsequent enrollment into this study, his brain scans began to show signs of neurological deterioration. Within another year, DM12 began to suffer from short-term memory loss. 3 years later, he was institutionalized for displaying increasingly violent and erratic behavior. A little over a year after being committed, he suffered catastrophic neurological failure and died. DM12 lived just over 10 years after his initial Deharmonization before dying. What scared JJ the most about DM12's story was how the descriptions of the early symptoms seemed to match his own. But that was only one case, one instance. That could possibly be just a coincidence. He continued browsing the case studies until he fell upon Deharmonized Female Participant # 44, or "DF44". DF44 was a scout pilot. Her scout suffered an electrical malfunction while in warp, killing her co-pilot instantly and subsequently Deharmonizing her. She was rescued 2 days later and a Sovereign search and rescue party. Upon her return, she began to have nightmares, and her appetite had begun to suffer, again going into detail describing symptoms much like JJ's. The initial brain scan done upon her enrollment in the study, which was done 5 years after her Deharmonization, showed decreased neurological functioning, which was highlighted by a significant drop off in her motor skills. Not 2 years later, DF44 autonomic functions suddenly failed, killing her instantly. Again, this lady showed initial symptoms much like JJ's. JJ couldn't read any further, becoming sick to his stomach all of a sudden. The stories of their deterioration were difficult to read, as they seemingly suffered needlessly through unimaginable personal hells, enduring a punishment doled on them by some merciless and unfeeling evil. JJ closed the article and turned away from the console, his fear of his own mortality strengthening with every mental image of those two Brythtons suffering. If he would have known this he would have never volunteered for this assignment. But it was too late, the damage had most likely already been done. "Computer. Attach that article to my medical records to be used as reference." "Authorization code needed." "Lexi Foxtrot Uniform Delta" The computer beeped in compliance. JJ just sat there for the remainder of the time he had before duty, unable to shake those images.

I'd just like to know how you got Firefox and Java to jive. I can't seem to get that.

I asked for Tzenkethi sauce at a Greek restaurant today. This is the third time I've done that.

.... Gotcha

There is a pair of snapping turtles living in the pond behind my apartment. I named them Donatello and Raphael. Donatello is the bigger one.

Underwear Seems Silly, Really

JJ emerged from the counseling session both uncomfortable and unassured.. He hadn’t really spoken much during the session. He was more looking for a cathartic moment through listening to the troubles of his fellow “survivors”. Instead of finding clarity, comfort, his feelings of loneliness were only reinforced. The walkway remained fairly empty. There were some new crew still filtering in to the living quarters, but most had settled in and were enjoying the last scraps of leave they had left. The leave had been anything but enjoyable for JJ. He had spent most of it sleeping or meditating, venturing out into his quarters only for food. His nightmares still endured, even if not in as vivid of detail as the first one. Once again, he sought the protection of his quarters. At 21 C, the Reaent felt like a sauna. His skin was getting blotchy from his constant sweating, and the cords of his hair became a tangled mess after every shift. He needed to consult Doctor Matthews on this, as having a lighter uniform was most definitely not enough to maintain any sort of comfort. As the door to his quarters opened, the blast of cool air enveloped him like the soft embrace of a long lost lover, with the beads of sweat tingling coolly across his skin. It reminded him of home, in a way. JJ closed his eyes, suddenly finding himself suddenly finding himself back home on Nbyuyt hill, overlooking the Grand Ocean of D’luga. He recalled the seabreeze, and how the air felt against his face as it would blow in the fog. He would do the same thing during the winter in the Sea Cliff district in San Francisco on Earth. Now here, on the Reaent, the closest thing he had to that memory was opening the door to his quarters. Commander Ridire had called a senior staff meeting which was to begin in less than two hours, plus all leave had been rescinded. JJ believed that they would probably be underway not much longer after that. They would no doubt be off to a new adventure. Once that would hopefully leave the events of the past to become no more than distant haunting memories

Okay people listen up! In this economy, we needed to cut down on costs, so we decided not to upgrade our coffee makers this year! Instead, here is how we are to make coffee. You place the grounds in the filter just like normal. Then, instead of a coffee maker, you place the filter into the breathing tube of this standard issue gas mask, like so! You get a cup of hot water and proceed to pour the water down the filter and. . . .Presto! Fresh coffee!

Yesterday marked the third trip in a row where I had to sprint through an airport to reach my connecting flight, only this time it was with my wife in tow. With my wife in tow, that means there was checked luggage. With checked luggage and 5 minutes to go from gate to gate, that means I have to make a stop at the airport when the 2PM flight lands today to pick up our bags. First of all, $100 for each additional bag to check past the first one? Are you serious? Thank God we only had one each. Second of all, why did the TSA force by wife to throw away her lotion when a) there is Body Shop not 10 yards away from the security check point, and b ) between the aforementioned body shop, the duty free shop, and the countless other stores, I can easily buy enough supplies to fashion any sort of household explosive? I don't get it.

Hey baby! You want to know what its like to ride economy style?

As I sit here listening/watching this OH SO INTERESTING webinar on how to use twitter for recruiting. I have come to the conclusion that twitter is -the- most unnecessary tool in the history of the internet. Sam, I think the instructions on how to clean your macbook fan would have more practical use.

"There is no Kansas, only Zool."

The Chamber of Honored Guests in the Hall of the Grand Duke was larger than most dwellings in the Sovereignty, and carried amenities that Jyrd Lexi could have only dreamed of owning, even as the son of a Count. It was upon entering these chambers the night before when he began to slowly realize the magnitude of what he had been selected to do. Thousands of Brythtons before him had gone through the Ceremony of Deharmonization, however only a handful had ever had the ceremony conducted in their honor in the Hall of the Grand Duke on Brythtia. The very thought that he would ever march down that historic aisle had never crossed Jyrd’s imagination. He stared into the full length mirror, straightening the tunic of his dress uniform. The dark green crest of the Sovereignty shone prominently in the middle of this chest, set against black border and a white background. His brown dress pants had been pressed and ironed and pressed again. His shoes, polished until he could see his own reflection. Over Jyrd’s shoulder appeared his father, Alstar, Count of Flyria. Dressed in his Sovereign Corps dress uniform and in full decoration the older Lexi, dwarfed his son. As a child, Jyrd often wondered if he would ever be able to match his father’s accomplishments in life. By the look in the Count’s face, Jyrd surmised, he finally had. Alstar Lexi draped the guest of honor sash across Jyrd’s shoulder. “I’m very proud of you.” He told his youngest son, “You have brought more honor to this house than I or any of your ancestors. Our descendants shall sing songs in praise of your name.” “You embarrass me father.” Jyrd replied. “I am just one person, I feel as if I don’t deserve this sort of fanfare.” “But you do, my son.” Alstar told Jyrd, draping his arm around his son’s shoulder. “Indeed you are just one, but you are one who carries the name of the Song in to a brave new world. You will be the face and the voice of all the Sovereignty to an Empire far greater than any we have ever encountered. In a way, our future depends on your actions.” Jyrd looked down towards the floor. Ever since the announcement of his selection, he had tried to ignore the constant hype that had seemingly engulfed him. But as the days went on past his selection, he began to wonder if it was all still hyperbole if everyone believed it. Carrying the expectations of billions of fellow Brythtons was a daunting thought, no matter how simple the task seemed. He looked up to see his father gazing down at him, tears welling up in his eyes. “You look as if you believe this is the last you will ever see of me, father.” “There is always that possibility, my son. As a soldier, I acknowledge that.” Alstar said. “You must come to that realization as well. The path to Heaven will be closed to you out there, by yourself. You must accept the fact that you may never see those you love ever again, in this life or the next.” Jyrd blinked. He had always figured that he would come home. He couldn’t see the Federation placing him a forward area. He had always thought that they would place him in some semi-administrative position on Earth or on one of the other more heavily fortified planets of the Federation. Yet the pain in his father’s eyes was real. They carried a sorrow he would probably only begin to understand when he became a father. Putting his hand on his father’s cheek, he matched eyes with him. “I will return to the Sovereignty, father,” he said, meaning every word of it. “And I will see you again, in this life or the next.” Alstar caressed his son’s hand, and kissed him on the forehead. “It is time.” he said softly, choking back tears. “You depart immediately after the ceremony. May your Sacrifice be remembered for all time.” With that, he walked out of the chambers, leaving Jyrd to gather his thoughts. Jyrd watched as his father walked out, a lump beginning to form in his own throat. He refused to actively acknowledge the fact that this would be the last time her would ever see his father. However, his father was right, there was that chance. In that instance, Jyrd wondered weather or not he had said all he had wanted to say to his father. He had now lost that chance. Outside the doors of his chamber, the Sovereign Choir had begun to sing. It was now time to say farewell. As Jyrd stepped out of his chambers, the he could begin to make out the words of the verses being sung. The first section of the choir sang the traditional opening hymn. The second section sang of the exploits of his family. While the third section sang of Jyrd himself and of his Sacrifice. The very sound of the Sovereign choir singing about him and of his family sent a chill down his spine. He took his place at the entrance of the grand hall, awaiting his cue to enter. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to become immersed in the moment. Despite the skepticism toward the grandiose nature of his treatment, this was a highly spiritual event, one that only the likes of the most worthy were to receive. Jyrd was honored and proud to be considered amongst those. The singing stopped, giving way to a low, graceful hum. The doors to the grand hall opened, and Jyrd stepped forward, beginning his march towards the center altar. The hall was full, meaning nearly ten thousand had come. The white walls shone even brighter than normal as the sun lit up the entire hall through the many sky lights. Jyrd could see Grand Duke Oyril standing in the center of the hall adorned in his crown and ceremonial tunic, holding the saber of the Sovereignty at his side. Jyrd could not help but feel nervous has he marched down the aisle. Out of his peripheral vision, he spotted his family sitting in the front row. On the other side of the aisle from them sat a group of Starfleet military officials; a human one-star admiral and his adjutants, a human Captain and a Trill Commodore, as well as the Federation Ambassador to Brythtia and her staff. The rest of the hall was filled with a mix of thousands of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, all here to celebrate an occasion in which Jyrd was still not sure he understood all the pomp and circumstance behind. As he reached the center altar, the low graceful of hum of the sovereign choir died down. Jyrd fell to his knees with his head bowed and his hands firmly behind his back, which was customary for the ceremony. “Jyrd Jryme Lexi, son of Alstar, Count and second heir to the chair of Flyria” the Grand Duke said, placing the saber on Jyrd’s left shoulder. “Today you embark on a solitary journey. A journey which will silence the Song. A journey that will close your path to heaven.” The Grand Duke paused for a moment, moving the saber to Jyrd’s right shoulder. “Only the bravest dare accept this journey, and only the strongest survive. Do you, Count of Flyria, accept the noble task that has been set before you by the Honored Council of Dukes?” Jyrd took a deep breath, quickly recalling his line. “I accept this task with the greatest of honor, and the most sorrow of hearts. Although my path to heaven be lost, and the beauty of the Song be silenced, I choose to serve the Sovereignty, the will of the Honored Council of Dukes, and the graces of the gods.” Jyrd felt the saber lift off his shoulder. “Count of Flyria,” the Grand Duke began “Let the gathering of your family and peers bear witness to your acceptance. May your name live on in their hearts and minds.” With that, the choir began their low graceful hum again. “Count of Flyria,” the Grand Duke began again. “Take this time to acknowledge the Song. Embrace it, let it take over your soul one last time, for you may never bear witness to it again.” Jyrd closed his eyes and began to meditate. Almost instantly, his mind became overcome in a sea of color and sound as he let the Song take over. In that moment, he could feel an overwhelming sense of hope and pride sweeping through the crowd, most all of which was directed at him. Suddenly, he began to realize why so many people felt the way they did. In this perilous time, he had become a symbol. A symbol of the Sovereignty that stated their intent to step onto the greater galactic stage. A symbol that showed that even in these uncertain times, the Brythtons were a strong and proud people willing to take major steps that could affect their place in history. The choir silenced again. “Rise, Count of Flyria.” The Grand Duke said to him. Jyrd did so, fighting back tears. The Song still rang strong in his mind. Within the hour, however, that wouldn’t be the case. Within the hour he would be on a Federation shuttle heading toward Earth, heading further and further away from the Song, and his path to salvation. “It is time, Count of Flyria.” The Grand Duke in a low voice which still echoed throughout the hall “Though you depart, and your part in the Song be silenced, your name will not be forgotten.” The leader of the Sovereignty let the words linger for a few seconds. Then with a solemn nod, he turned away. Jyrd could her the sounds of the congregation doing the same. As he turned towards the exit, he could see the backs of thousands of Brythtons. Turning towards his family, their backs were turned towards him as well. He could see his mother wiping tears from her eyes and his father’s fists clinched, as if fighting back his own. Jyrd wanted desperately to speak with them one more time, give them one more embrace. But he couldn’t. Not now, it was too late. The tears began to roll down his face as he walked down the aisle towards the exit, each of his footsteps echoing loudly through the silent hall as he made his way down the marble pathway. A few seconds later, he was out of the Grand Hall. The courtyard was empty save for a lone shuttlecraft and a Starfleet Lieutenant. The Lieutenant approached him has exited the Hall. “Cadet Lexi?” he said, stopping a few meters from him “I am Lieutenant Wanamaker. I’m here to transport you to the Colorado for your trip to Earth”. Jyrd managed a nod, to choked up for words at the moment. The Lieutenant fell his step beside him as they walked towards the shuttle. From the open doors of the Hall, he could hear the Sovereign choir beginning to sing the closing hymn. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew them by heart already. It was three simple lines, repeated over and over: Though he departs His Song lives on In all our hearts. The choir became more and more feint as he walked away, becoming completely inaudible by the time he reached the shuttle. Within moments after he was seated, the shuttle took off. Jyrd stared out the viewport, watching the Grand Hall become rapidly smaller as it faded into the planet-side. As the shuttle reached orbit, he could feel it fading. The Song was growing weaker and weaker. Jyrd clinched his fists, trying desperately to clasp on to it in his mind. . .until finally. . .it was gone. He let out a mournful scream, falling to the floor. He grabbed at his hair, sobbing loudly. For the first time in his life, he was truly. . .alone.

Can I get: "The meanest, prettiest, baddest man lowdown around this town" I'm an eighties movie nerd.

I was driving today and this guy pulls up next to me with the top down on his Ferrari F430 (How anyone can afford that in Dayton, Ohio, I haven't a clue). He looked over at me in my dented '02 Toyota Tacoma and just gave me that "See? I'm better than you" smirk. I felt like rolling down my window and shouting something. Before I could though, redemption came in the form of birds. At least five of them on the wire above us decided to relieve themselves right over him. I saw four falling piles strike in various places on his ultra expensive upholstery while the fifth one landed square on his forehead and proceeded to, very wetly, smear down his face. All of a sudden, I felt alot better about myself.

Congrats! Yer all edumacated like I is now! But seriously congrats from someone who just recently suffered through it. :-)

This'll keep those blasted Dingo's off my beach!

There should be an unofficial STSF event that takes place at some ungodly hour to appease the insomniacs much like myself.

His shift was over and leave had started. It was an uneventful, even boring one at that. JJ had hoped it wouldn’t be. He needed something to take his mind off of. . .well. . .his mind. Most of the people on the bridge had been working on decoding the mystery of the events that had unfolded just over a week prior. Captain Michaels had been relieved of his post and Commander Ridire had taken his place. With Dr. Smith sliding up into the position of XO which Ridire had consequently vacated. In other words, there was much going on that he couldn’t really participate in. JJ didn’t much understand or really care for the military politics of Starfleet. In the Sovereignty, those in the military were viewed as warriors. Warriors were above the minutia of the political world, and those with title who held seats at any of the councils were instructed to check their political stances at the door when they put on that uniform. The Federation was different, however. And that would take some getting used to. He removed himself from the bridge. He chose to forgo supper, as his appetite was lacking this particular evening. Instead, he opted to retire to the security of his quarters. His quarters ran a lot cooler than the rest of the ship. Humans tended to operate in hot temperatures. His uniform was made of a thinner material in order to allow him some semblance of comfort for JJ, but at the end of the day, it still felt good to retire to a normal temperature. Above his bed hung a pair bronzed Ynn’ala branches arranged in a “V” shape. The Ynn’ala tree was indigenous to the Brythton home-world. From it came the most common Brythton fruit, the Na’al, which literally translated into “fruit of life”. It was an integral part of Brythton society, as it was found in many Brythton cuisines, and was the source of the most common nectar in the Sovereignty. The tree itself had a variety of uses. Its leaves were used in canopies and in rope, and its wood was still commonly used in many structures. The “V” shaped branches were significant as they formed the symbol of Ynn’al, one of the prominent demigods in Brythton society. She was the goddess of strength and resiliency, and the patron goddess of the Lexi family for generations. JJ had always thought it to be a challenge to live up to her. Falling to his knees, he said a quick prayer, asking for Ynn’al to bestow upon him her strength. Afterwards he stood up and laid down on his bed. He was tempted to take a quick nap prior to exiting. His record of sleep still remained poor, so he thought it might be prudent to gather some energy before wandering around in the hot summer temperatures that Starfleet considered “normal”. He removed his uniform and slipped into his bed, dosing off much quicker than he anticipated. TBC sometime this week.