Okay, seriously. Someone is going to have to mail me some proper coffee. Heck, a bean grinder would be sexy too, if you’re so inclined. If you don’t mail a grinder though, I need ground, delicious coffee, Splenda, and… really, that’s about it. I suppose I could use a mug too, but I can pick one of those up just about anywhere.

Really, though, I want to reiterate why I’m here.

1. Plan X. Money. Funding the initial stages of freedom.

Contractors in Iraq are a refreshingly honest bunch. While we all have secondary reasons for being here… adventure, patriotism, education… we’re also honest about our primary motivation. Cold hard cash. We’re here because we know that we can make shit-tons of money doing what we do, as long as we’re willing to accept a small bit of danger. I can’t speak for anyone else, but while money -is- my motivation, the love of money is not why I want it. As I’ve noted before, money buys a good deal of freedom… freedom from debt, initially. Freedom from working, eventually. And at the most extreme levels, money can buy freedom from some laws. I’m here for freedom through the almighty dollar.

2. Superhero Training. Background story, fitness, toughness.

Continuing with the honesty track, I’m also here to give myself a better background story. Calling myself a computer technician is all well and good… but if I can add “computer technician… who has served in Iraq as a mercenary,” I feel more awesome about it. And heck, being here means I have an unprecedented chance to add the fitness and the toughness that a superhero technician needs to fit the superhero title. I love that I have that chance… I simply hope that I can live up to my goals.

3. Brain training. Make stateside income count.

Breaking through to freedom from debt and adding those skills are both useless if I don’t train my mind as well. If my ultimate goal is freedom from work and responsibility, and I want to make that happen as soon as possible, I need to get my brain trained so that my baseline income in the United States is higher. For every $1 extra I make in the U.S, I make at least $3 over here. To put it in terms of yearly increases… if I were to get a $1 raise for certification, I’d be looking at an extra $6350 a year over here. if i were able to score a CISSP or a CCIE, I’d be talking massive truckloads of cash.

4. Addiction. I like adventure and danger.

I really do. My mind slips into a different sort of thinking when I’m doing those things that I know I ought to be doing. Adventure, travel, rescuing people from certain doom… I do those things well. Those it is mostly a side benefit, I do excel when I’m in hard situations. I might bitch about it, sure, but I still excel.

Finally, I’ve added a list to my blog of stuff I would really, really like to have here. Some of it I’ve marked as one time only, and some of it I’ve marked with either quantities or “just send it!” For example, good coffee, you can just constantly send. I’ve also noted stuff that I cannot have or prefer not to get. Please don’t send those items, as I’ll either have to throw them away (contraband), give them away (stuff I don’t want / won’t eat), or send them back.

Thanks if you send me things, though I hardly expect it.

Oh! If you need my address, just e-mail me. I don’t want to post it on the Internet, thanks.

I’m not going to epic post, this Friday, because the rules* are that I need to be traveling to do that. I’ll try to share something moderately juicy, though, because I know what sells on the Internet.

A typical warning: This will contain things that may offend you. Don’t read it if you’re a little bitch what can’t take it.

(The rest of you, come on in.)

Sexsi Stuff (Because that’s what you want to read)

* People willing to show off their “assets” to someone they might actually meet have my respect. Excellent FIPlication!

* Seeing the assets of people I know is… actually… pretty hot. Well, the girls anyway.

* If someone were to masturbate to me, I would probably consider it a compliment.

* ….but I don’t necessarily need to know about it unless you’re willing to post your admission publicly.

* I’ve decided that if I am going to ask and you’re gonna deliver, I can do the same. Fair is fair in perversion and blackmail!

* I have seen more of my Twitter pals partially naked than I saw partially naked girls in High School. But then, zero is an easy number to beat.

Adventurer Stuff

* I consider my going out of the country a way to epic montage; I plan on coming back smarter, more knowledgeable, fitter, tougher, and more attractive.

* My life is, to me, a role-playing game campaign without the fast forwards. I have no intention of living a mundane life.

* I am proud every time someone is inspired to awesomeness by my batshit crazy antics.

* I still intend to save the world. Just wait and see!

* I make the rules up as I go, really. Shh.

….

….

…no, wait. I forgot. My plan is viable. My plan is WORKING. And being honest with you? It wasn’t horribly impossible. Anyone could… can… do what I am doing. No, I don’t mean going to Iraq, though that is part of my plan. I mean, anyone can break free of the mundane, and it ain’t even that hard to do. You simply have to understand that YOU WILL NEVER GET RICH / FREE / SUCCESSFUL IF YOU DO THE SAME OLD SAFE SHIT EVERYONE ELSE DOES. I’m sorry for the caps, but that shit NEEDS to be in caps. Again. YOU WILL NEVER GET RICH / FREE / SUCCESSFUL IF YOU DO THE SAME OLD SAFE SHIT EVERYONE ELSE DOES. Are you hearing me? Dropping 5% (matched by your employer) into your mutual funds isn’t going to make you rich. It might let you retire reasonable well when you’re old, but you’ll be working your ass off until then. Moving up the ladder at Mediocri-Co is not going to make you your fortune or grant you your freedom.

You. Need. To. Take. Risks.

You. Will. Have. To. Endure. Hardship.

Those risks can be physical, financial, mental, whatever. What is important… and what is going to buy you your freedom… is the fact that your average human is not going to ever, ever take those risks. It isn’t that they don’t want to be free, understand… it is that the safety net they’ve become accustomed to is too comfortable to surrender. They’ll not (for lack of a better analogy play on the trapeze of life without the net because it is SCARY.

And yeah. It is. But that’s why i call myself a Feral Human. I reject domestication. I thrive in risk and adventure.

I’m gonna be free.

I hope you’re there too. If not, though, I understand. If everyone were Feral, we’d have to take it to a whole new level.

So here’s my plan, subject to change, all rights reserved, free to use and abuse:

1. Gain a sizable base capital.
2. Grow said capital until the residual money is capable of supporting my lifestyle.
3. Attain financial and thus social freedom.
4. Continue to grow capital and help others break free.

Feel free to adapt to you own ends… and heck, if I can help you break free… let me know!

My tentative date of departure is July 6th, so any random confessions, hatred, offers of debauchery, and face punches should be delivered before then.

I’m sure that all but the most clueless of you have figured out that I am headed to Iraq for a year, to support a client for buckets upon buckets of beautiful, beautiful cash. I’m sure that most of you have surmised that said plan is part of Plan X… but you may have the impression that the trip overseas is the sum total of Plan X. That is… not… quite… true. Plan X does begin with the trip, and the money gained is definitely a major part of the first part of the plan, but really… Plan X is simply my most epic implementation of the Fuck It Principle ever.

That’s right… it all comes back to FIP.

One of my major goals, decided when I lost my last job, was to put myself in a position where I’d never have to worry about being subjected to that sort of thing again. I wasn’t angry at the company, understand… I just did not worrying about finding a way to get money for my lifestyle. So rather than wish and play the lottery and sit around vaguely disappointed every time I lost,* I put a plan into motion in which I’d never have to worry about working for someone else again.

Plan X.

Plan X did, and does, evolve as I gain new information and find new paths to take. Plan X is an -idea- and a -goal-, not a line by line plan of action. Should I need to adjust mid-stream to reach the goal, I will do so without feeling like a failure because the goal is the same and the idea is the same and ultimately, any path to victory is a victory, right?

One of the most pleasing side effects of MY Plan X, though, is that it seems to be bleeding into the consciousness of others. I think… I -hope-… that people will look at my Plan X, see that it -can- work… that life does not have to follow the predetermined lines of acceptability that people have drawn… and take it upon themselves to craft their own unique Plan X. I’m tempted to be cynical and note that lip service is easy, but action takes work… but I’m not in that kind of mood.

I’m in the kind of mood to think that people can, and will, do what they have to do to be happy, successful, and free.

But I guess…. I guess… I can share a few leftover tidbits. But you bastards need to start participating too.

The Leftover Sexsi

- I have had two lap dances in my life. Both of them were meh and somewhat awkward. I would much rather watch a woman receive a lap dance. I’m weird.

- I have advised a girl on oral techniques to be used on girls. You know. Uh. Dental care. #notreally

- Skirts are awesome. For reasons that ought to be obvious. If they aren’t, ask.

- If you’re a girl, I could probably find stuff about you I like. Don’t ask, though, I may not tell.

Effed Up Personality

- I love spreading deviance, whether sex or views or just plain chaos. It’s fun! I feel a wee bit devilish when I do it, too. Good thing, though, is that most of you seem to enjoy swirling in the chaos.

- I also dig hardship. I will put myself in difficult situations because I can. Plan X is pretty much ‘Chad’s Hardship, Extreme WTF Edition.

- I am more popular now than I have ever, ever been. I am not sure if I like it or not.

- I still like looking out of the window of a plane and I’ve flown like, 10,000,000 times. Give or take.

- The Fuck It Principle? Yeah, I take it very seriously as far as my personal development is concerned. As far as you are concerned… if you’re applying it and trying to do better, I love you for it.

Bad Habits

- I love vice in moderation. Smoking, drinking… I do both to safe, yet fun levels. Smoking I do very rarely because I like the dizzy half nauseous buzz I get.

Weirdness

- I cannot cannot stand to not shower, or at least wash my face daily. I find it oogy. Which is funny, because I like slightly dirty girls.

- I like the word oogy.

- I have nothing else.

* – you don’t need me drunk to get me to share, I’m just a classy information whore.

Sometimes, applying FIP means refusing to take the easy way out.

Sometimes, FIP isn’t fun.

Case in point. I know a number of single women (who are awesome, incidentally, if you are a non-scumbag and you’re looking.) As a married guy and non-douche, I do get to hear some of the horror stories about how guy A was trying to play Girl X while Girl Y thought that she also had something with Guy A, or that Guy B is a complete and utter child and isn’t worth the hassle… or that Guy C is an alright guy, but too bad he is totally into Guy D. In other words, I have a pretty good baseline of how girls view the guys in and around my social network. Sometimes, I hear enough about a guy to establish his M.O. Seriously, though… if I know enough about a particular guy to establish his M.O. then the guy is probably a tool.

So.

Yeah.

I hear some things post-bar concert one night. I see some late night exchanges. I hear things from ANOTHER source. Then I read something online which has all the earmarks of the same damn guy. So… I sit, I think, and I watch the situation.

Sure enough. Same guy.

And see, this is where FIP gets hard. It would have been easy to walk away and let it be, and let things play out in time. Because I mean, they always DO play out in time. But you know what? That not only makes you a shitty friend, it makes you an accomplice. It makes you a coward. For me, it also violates my own personal interpretation of FIP. I am a sucker for a damsel in distress… and I do like to “white knight.” So I gathered my facts. I said something. I broke a heart, but… and I guess this is a consolation of sorts… I prevented worse down the line. And hell, I did serve the whole truth concept, so there’s that.

Sometimes, living up to FIP is hard, but it is always, ALWAYS worth it.

Okay, okay. Yeah. I am shy. I have suffered, and continue to suffer, from a lack of self confidence. Thanks for pointing that out.

So. I know this. I don’t like it. My choices are to do something about it, or to not do something about it. I am doing something about it. So, the little ways I have been more assertive (that I can think of:)

- Have you ever wandered around a store looking for something because you didn’t want to ask for help? Me too. Not anymore, though!
- I ask for food the way I want it, even if the option is not on the menu. All they can do is say no!
- I totally hugged a guy. To be fair, hugging a guy is probably easier than hugging a girl, though. Maybe I should hug some girls?

Yeah, yeah. Minor league, right?

Fair enough. I also:

- Got quite assertive in my professional life, where there was a situation that was not playing out how it should have. As in, took people outside and laid it out for them.
- Chose to stop bashing myself needlessly. End like, 20 years of needless garbage.
- Along those same lines, I have taken your compliments seriously for once.THANK YOU.
- Told some of my friends how much I appreciate them. I have not been good with the squishy emotions, traditionally.

I’m going to continue to work on these things. I mean… what is the point of putting FIP into print if I can’t use it to help myself too?

Speaking of. You CAN call me on it if I am being an idiot about these things. I may get pissy, but if you’re right I promise to apologize later.

So, here’s a little bit of FIPtastic truth.

I don’t care.

No. Seriously. I don’t care.

Look. The world is full of people who are willing to accept wrong for right to make those self-important people of the world feel good about themselves. I was, until relatively recently in life, one of those people. For many reasons, though, barriers have been breaking down in my mind and I’m just more willing to stand up and say “fuck that shit” (though I do tend to be more diplomatic about it) when someone needs to stand up and say “fuck that shit.” I am willing to tell you when you are wrong. I will tell the truth if the truth needs to be told, even if the truth is going to suck ass.

I’m tired of playing the happy dance game and watching things that need doing never get done.

That’s not to say that I’m going to nitpick every time I disagree, or every time someone makes a mistake. I mean, why pick on someone whose scope of influence is self? When it bleeds over and causes issues for me though? Oh yes. I am going to confront people. I will say “sorry, but that is incorrect.” I will be arrogant, and damn your assessment.

So here’s… not a promise, but a goal. I will strive towards greater competence and more honestly when it comes to getting stuff done. I will continue to tell people they are wrong or they are messing up when they are… well… wrong or messing up. Don’t like it? Find someone else to ask.

Ha.

I asked a question of my internet friends and pals via Formspring concerning masks. The exact question was:

Everyone wears masks. Do you prefer life behind your masks, or are you itching to shed those masks?

So, in fairness… my answer.

I live life behind my masks. I don’t prefer it, necessarily, but it has become a survival mechanism…. or maybe I’m just fooling myself and my masks are what I use to keep my distance from people who I don’t, as a rule, relate to very well. I know I used to be worried about offending people with my real self, but I’m not worried about that anymore (well, not so much.) Now, I just keep the masks up out of habit and convenience. I suspect (or pretend, probably) that most people would be scared away if I were completely, honestly true.

Well, actually… I’m worried that the people I give a damn about will be scared away. No offense, rest of the world, but I could give a crap what you think about me. You do not matter in my life, I do not care about you. I’m probably a true sociopath in that way; I just… don’t… care… what happens to people I have no vested interest in. If you recoil in horror, so be it… but the few people that I like… yeah, those I don’t care to lose.

…yeah, yeah. I know. I’m supposed to be living up to FIP. I am trying, remember? But some things, they need to be eased into. Revealing my true self is one of those things. I mean… if you know me, you know that my mask can slip, and… wonder of wonders… I don’t think I’ve terrified anyone that I care about. But even when my masks are slipping I hang on to some shreds of humanity civility normality.

But (as the president would say) let me be clear. I am not lying, per se. The masks aren’t me pretending to be something I am not so much as they are subduing certain aspects of what I am like (he says as the semantics meter pegs.) I just… figure that it is easier this way.

…..but.

I am finding that every time the masks slip, I feel…. good. I feel great, actually. No, fuck that. I feel wonderful. I feel real and powerful and fucking deliciously deviant and feral and all of those good things that I suspect no one who is tied to normality ever, ever feels.

So then… why bother with masks? I’m currently reviewing that question in my head, and wondering how the brainmeat that is usually so logical decided to create such an illogical situation.

Considering my current motivation as far as distance running is concerned, this is probably a good thing. I am always, ALWAYS off peak in the winter. I can push through, but the combination of short-ass days and the cold (and delicious holiday food) make keeping in peak-for-me shape difficult as hell.  It’s a personal issue, and I’m getting better at managing it… but I still have not figured out that magical formula that will push me through the shit winter months without lagging.

So, to summarize: Shamrock Half Marathon <– Cancelled. 12 mile run <– Not cancelled, but delayed. I may shoot for the Rock and Roll Half. We shall see.

So… plan scrapped, moving on, working on training program to fit my current needs.

FIP Exam Tip: Applied FIP Principle in this case is honesty to one’s self and acceptance of personal responsibility. It is a minor personal failure to have to scrap the plan, but a bigger failure would be to continue on and give it a half-assed effort.

FIP Exam Tip 2: Recognizing one’s undesirable traits as undesirable is the first step to fixing them.  The second step is proactive action.

On the bright side, this means I can ditch the current training model and go with what I’ve been planning on doing after March 21st anyway! I’m going to go back to interval / speed training. I’m kinda… really… slow at the moment. I’d like to get back to running sub 8 minute miles, at the very least. I’m no speed demon, but I can be better than I am now.

Enough.

Let’s talk about school and certifications. I am (to reject humility and wallow in pride) fucking AWESOME when it comes to studying. I am about a week and some change ahead of schedule with my “12 in 12″ plan, with two of the planned 12 tests already passed and out of the way. I suspect I might actually be ready for the next one in three weeks, putting me WELL ahead of schedule.  This, of course, leads into my goal of being rich. While tech certs alone will not make me independently wealthy, they work to get me into a place where I have money to risk on further acceleration.

So far, I’ve done the 70-646 course (a harder course in the AD* of life) and Security+ (a test that proved that since I rejected the idea of taking it 3 years ago, I have become many times more awesome) with 70-640, 70-642, and 70-647 in my definite future.

Enough.

Work? Work is work. If you’ve talked to me before, you know you will get fuck-all in the way of complaints or compliments out of me about work… at least online.

More? More later. I have a lot to say, but it has to wait until I have less projects in the works.