2142: In the grand tapestry of life, I found myself intertwined with the promising paths of Alex and Andrea, two sisters who have etched their names as prominent streamers in the Chess domain. My connection with them began when I lent my support to Alex's nascent business venture upon her graduation from Stanford in 2017—a project that also saw collaboration with Marina's efforts. Marina, too, has sharpened her Chess skills to nearly the caliber of a Grand Master, while I humbly remain at the beginner's level, having once been outmaneuvered by Alex in a game played in her former residence, long before her current home in New York. Andrea, with whom I’ve played a few rounds, might have also crossed Chess pieces with Marina. The sisters' meteoric rise to fame is reflected in their status as prolific streamers, with their net worths frequently discussed alongside other notable figures. Though my interactions with them have become more sporadic, marked by the swift pace of their online engagements, they continue to recognize me, a testament to my peculiar knack for standing out, even in the digital crowd. Chess, a pastime I first embraced as a Junior High librarian's assistant, remains a distant yet cherished memory, much like my belated but passionate pursuit of history, which came after years of fascination with the sciences and nature.
2022: It felt as if it might be out of place to mention to the Senior Enlisted Advisor for the Space Force that his former supervisor, Sir Eric, a retired SMSgt, sends his regards. I had the honor of working under Sir Eric, a man of meticulous habits, especially in the way he organized his desk. I recall a particular request where he had us convert a corner into a standing desk—a project that didn’t quite go as planned. The USB extensions were so taut they caused the monitors to topple over, and I found myself stepping in to rectify the situation, a pattern that became familiar in my role. It wasn’t for lack of effort, but rather a growing understanding that even the smallest tasks required careful thought. My former civilian supervisor, an Army veteran, would often talk about the camaraderie that comes from being "in the trenches," a bond that truly can’t be matched. When the Chief spoke of roles within the Force, I wholeheartedly agreed with his perspective. He argued that roles shouldn’t favor just 12% of the total force, but should benefit everyone. His insight on recognizing and compensating technical experts—like our skilled Technical Sergeants—made perfect sense. Tonight, as I prepare to watch the meteor shower, I can't help but chuckle at the thought of possibly getting irradiated by cosmic energy!
1848: When I first in-processed, I had the good fortune of meeting Page. She sat across from me as we completed paperwork, and I lent her a pen. I quickly tackled my in-processing checklist, finishing within three days, eager to begin house hunting. A house I had reserved before arriving had been rented out, and to my surprise, even sold. A scheduling mishap had cost me my spot, and fate, it seemed, had other plans. Remarkably, the house I missed out on became Page's, as she and her family moved in after the previous tenants were reassigned. Life's strange coincidences, though common for me, were at play again. Had I not spent that extra day with my family in Florida, or left earlier instead of seeing my nephew off to school, I might have secured that house with its garage. But then, Page might not have stayed, and everything would have been different. I could have avoided the storm, and perhaps met my ex and child as planned. Yet, such thoughts are best left untraveled. What matters is the precious time I spent with my mother, sister, and nephew, reminiscent of our time together during my promotion in Key West. The journey, though long and weary, was filled with purpose, as I followed my heart to where I was needed most.
1833: For a time, Scott Manley chose not to partner with the streaming platform Twitch, focusing instead on creating YouTube videos and pursuing various other projects, including music, teaching, and educational endeavors. When I first encountered him in my chat during a stream, I had no idea of the luminary he was. Yet, like many in the Kerbal Space Program and space community, Scott possessed a genuine passion for sharing knowledge, regardless of one's experience level. Perhaps it was my dad jokes that initially caught his attention, but it wasn't long before I learned, through a friend named Eric (known as EJ_SA on Twitch), that the great Scott (a playful nod to the movie quote) was indeed remarkable. I once had the opportunity to volunteer as security at the Space Launch Complex, and there I noticed the back of a familiar head, accompanied by a cheerful, thick accent—Scott himself. [I still treasure the coin presented to me by a Colonel at the SLC in gratitude for our service.] It's rare for me to feel starstruck, especially in the vast realm of space (pun intended), but meeting Scott was truly an experience to remember. Hailing from the San Francisco Bay Area, Scott now streams on Twitch, educating both adults and children across multiple platforms. He holds several degrees and has taught numerous university courses over the years. Speaking of celestial events, Scott and others have kindly reminded us that the Perseid meteor shower will grace the skies tonight from 00:00 to 05:00 PST.
1739: For those concerned about X and the security of its platform, rest assured, it is managed by a lean but capable Cyber Security team, a subcomponent of a broader subset that oversees the automation tasks typically handled by a larger staff. The phrase "more with less" was a refrain I heard often during my military days, and though it remains challenging, the technological advancements we now possess allow us to become those high-speed troops, effectively managing and timing processes to be in multiple places simultaneously. This capability is something I witnessed firsthand as I advanced in my career, taking on more responsibilities with each promotion. Recently, I had the privilege of sitting with our Chief for the Space Force before he embarks on his next adventure, one involving well-deserved fishing. His words struck a chord when he reminded us that if our motivation stems solely from the belief that we have a job to do, we are destined to fail. It is not the tasks or ambition that should drive us, but rather the care we extend to one another. Success lies in the understanding that we are part of a profession, not just a job, and that our true measure comes from lifting each other up, rather than striving to be better than the next person.
1712: In a bid to ensure she knew she hadn’t slipped my mind, I reached out to Page, asking when she’d like to venture out to witness the meteor shower. To my surprise, a text reply came asking, "Who is this?" Confounded, I responded, "Isn’t this Page?" Only to discover it was her stepmother on the other end, inquiring whether I was courting her daughter. I assured her that such notions were far from reality, though I struggled to spell my words that night, perhaps a symptom of the oddity of the situation. The stepmother then noticed that my area code or the last digits of my number resembled one belonging to one of Page’s troublesome exes. I found myself explaining that I was not the person she feared, offering a phone call for reassurance. It turns out Page’s family had re-engaged with her life, presenting her with a new phone, likely spurred by our recent interactions. The once silent rift between them had begun to heal, a subtle yet profound effect of our growing bond. Though I don’t yet have Page’s new number, her stepmother has now warmed to me. While it feels a tad unusual to communicate without Page’s introduction, I’ll wait patiently. As much as I enjoy the company of others, particularly mothers, it seems I may watch the stars alone once more, but even in solitude, the sky’s beauty remains—though it would’ve been lovely to share, even if it wasn’t Marina.
0457: In the heart of the farm, where tradition and the past wove their tales into the fabric of daily life, my ex was raised by a man we affectionately called Pa. His kindness and resilience were evident, for he stayed when others might have left, choosing to raise a child whom society viewed through a different lens. The community was deeply religious, bound by old customs, yet Pa's heart, though eventually failing him, was strong and steadfast, a beacon of virtue. On one of my visits home, I split my leave between my biological family and this extended one, not wanting to forget either. One night, a cry pierced the stillness—Marina was missing. The panic reminded me of a time long ago when my sister wandered off at the beach, her small footprints leading me to her. Marina's trail was similar, and as I followed, I sensed the land's ancient pulse, as if those who once roamed it guided my steps. I found her asleep by a tree, surrounded by trinkets she had gathered for her mother, her dreams entwined with the land's history. It was a night of meteor showers, and beneath the fading stars, Marina had traced constellations in the earth, echoing stories of her Grecian heritage, stories I had shared but never shown.
