Position: 34 29' N x 121 58' W

Currently Digging: Nothing. I hate Thanksgiving.

I didn't want to get up this morning. If it weren't for the fact that it's an all-overtime day on account of our national "Thanks For The Land, Injun" celebration, I wouldn't have.

Well, that and the fact that I get fired if I don't show up to stand my watch.

But aside from raking in the OT hours, I don't do holidays. And it's not blanket misanthropic not-a-team-player shtick, either. Every individual holiday has it's own special reason for why I don't give a shit about it.

The exceptions are the New Year's Eve Boozefest, and Halloween, which is a good excuse to step out in the old bondage gear without getting funny looks from the general public.

My distaste for Thanksgiving is all my mom's fault. I think it goes back to the family gatherings of my youth, when we'd have as many people over as possible, and mom wouldn't let us start eating until everyone present had been given the opportunity to deliver a long-winded list of everything they were thankful for.

And God help you if you didn't mention baby Jesus.

"And thank you for baby Jesus," mom would remind me sternly. Often.

Several hours later, we'd start eating. But only after an equally long-winded prayer summarizing everyone's individual gratitude. It was, if you ask me, a horribly inefficient manner in which to deliver necessary vitamins, minerals, and fuel to the body.

In addition, I'm not really thankful for anything. Life fucking sucks. The sooner you admit it, the sooner you can get around to doing something useful. Like sitting around waiting to die.

Plus, the whole, you know, the me and the vegetarian thing...and the turkey...you get the picture.

I got the watch call on my phone at 0720, reminding me to turn to for overtime if I wanted it. I didn't. Had trouble sleeping last night. Maybe got 3 hours of solid rack time.

But I don't go to sea to sleep, so I got dressed, slugged back some coffee, and went out to work.

Workworkworkworkworkwork.

Can I die yet?

It turned out to be not so bad today. My project involved beating the Hell out of some stubborn bolts with a sledge hammer to loosen them up. After that, I got to take a Saws-All to some rusted-out steel grating we were cutting free to throw over the side. And I like Saws-Alls. They're all motorized and manly and they cut the living Christ out of stuff.

I went through three blades. The three blades went through about 8 feet of reinforced steel. Aces.

All in all, it was a good couple of hours out on deck. Good, sweaty, manly, hammer-swinging, motorized metal-cutting hours. Guess I'm kind of glad I got out of bed this morning after all.

Lunchtime rolled around, which left me somewhat less than thrilled. You know, because of me and the vegetarianism and the turkey and...well, yeah.

But sitting on the counter next to the salad bowl, was the last thing I was expecting to see: a cheese ball. One of those naval orange-sized orbs of processed cheese spread covered in almond slivers that my tongue loves so much but my cholesterol level detests. Surrounded by crackers (nothing more than a vehicle for the impending cheese ball orgy in my mouth) and celery stalks. But really, who eats celery when there's cheese ball to be had?

(low, guttural sounds of ecstatic gluttony)

Allghlahhaglagh...

I am a slave to you, tasty Cheese Ball.

If it were up to me, we'd have a national holiday celebrating the birth of my Cheesy lord and savior. Which is also ball-shaped.

(more orgasmic man-noises)

Surprisingly, I didn't eat the whole thing. But I was tempted to. I had to stop because the Cheese Ball spoke to me. Not out loud - that'd mean that I'm crazy. I mean in my heart. It spoke to me in my heart.

Cheese Ball: Jb!
Jb: Yes, Lord?
CB: Honor thy mother and giveth thanks!
Jb: Awwww, man! Do I have to?
CB: Do it.
Jb: But-
CB: I said DO IT!

Fine. Okay. Fine.

Fucking FINE.

*sigh*

Okay mom, you win. I guess I can take a brief moment to express some gratitude. But just this once.

My brief Thanksgiving poetical:

I'm thankful for the Watch Call,
And for the Saws-All,
And most importantly,
For the motherfuckin' Cheese Ball

-Jb
CEO FTW Inc.
11.24.05