today, thursday... any other day

Valentines Day sucks.


the end.

life in the far right lane

I have decided, that in all of my years of social gathering and extended family/friends... I have not a soul to call "friend".
I take this statement back, only because it is false. Only now, in my current state of misery- do I let myself believe this true.
If I were to randomly choose anyone on my phone log, and call them- I'm certain that person would answer and be relieved to know that I am alive. I find myself turning off my phone more often now... I don't wish to "chat" with anyone. If it be an emergancy or of some importance to me- they'll leave a message. I won't be that person who relieves them of their guilt for being such a shitty friend.
Maybe I'm the shitty friend. I don't even answer.

It's Valentines Day tomorrow. He forgot Valentines last year. It is more believable to me now, 'cause in Iraq today has no date nor time. I'll forgive him... maybe he'll feel a bit guilty when his most recent package arrives and he finds it full of pink, love, and mushy stuff.

Oh, I also have decided that Washington State drivers are idiots. More specifically, the Seattle/metro area drivers. If you wish to follow the speed limit, please move over to the right lane. The far left is for those who need to get somewhere-- on time. I did see a car on fire on the side of the road the other day... that was cool. I smelled burning tire and gas... briefly I was somewhere else rather then battling my way through traffic where there really shouldn't be any traffic.

Alright. Enough bitching. I need to get my life in order, find some excuse to leave the house- other then attending a pointless "appointment".

I feel as if every day is slowing down... 24/7 dragging on much longer then it ought to.
I might tempt a cop on I5, but my life is the far right lane. Going nowhere fast.

boredom vs. creative

Alright, I am absolutely, utterly bored. I sketched this of my hand... ferrets would have been cuter, they just don't sit still very well. Not bad for someone who hasn't opened up a sketchbook in years...

Maybe one day I'll draw and paint for a living. You know, after I become a millionare.

forgotten

I knew the details before most even knew what happened. I begged my nco to let me head back to the chu's to check on 1st plt, for I know that they had been out on mission that night. Being the bitch she was, she said "no"... so I came up with some excuse to run to the aid station- there I found someone who could give me the details. She had signed the death certificate... but couldn't give me any details, other then the fact he was a young, caucasion PFC. I made a slight, determained detour on my way back and stopped by the chu's. God forbid I was caught somewhere I shouldn't be... her wrath was of the devil himself.
One of the guys in the platoon was blindly walking around and mumbled some sort of unaudible anwser after being asked "who it was". It was then I found him in his room, curled up in bed... I gasped a sigh of relief. Then realizing, just who it had been.

Not for a moment do I regret that past 5 years of my life. Yeah, some things I would have done differantly... but in all, I am a better being now, then I have ever been before. It's unfortunate I have had to learn all I know now, within the circumstances that have led to this point. A thrill seaker I am, ignorant I am not. I had a pretty good idea what I was getting myself in to when I signed my life away... if I only knew then what I know now. I say this yet again, only that ignorance is blind, but innocence is precious.

Perhaps I need a job. A life or sorts. My whole life has been revolved around this uniform I wore, and the details in between. I eagerly threw my boots over the wire, but my Class A's still remain crisp in my closet. All those ribbons... and what to show for? I find being a veteran of retired nature, doesn't grant you any special pass or leverage in this civilain life. Obviously, getting blown up, shot at, and saving someone's life isn't a marketable skill.

My back aches, my knees are swollen... and I don't feel near the vibrant age of 23. Again, I have nothing to show for- but memories wished to be forgot, poor health, and a few rows of colorfull ribbons that I really have no damn idea what they're for.

In regards to the opening of this blog... where I was poorly recalling that event. Well, he was a soldier I knew and he fell from a blackhawk. He wasn't even my husband, nor in my battalion... but I knew him. That was enough.

The fear I experienced then... of "not knowing", is still great. I had to know. I asked questions, I sought counsel... I doubted anwsers. It frustrates me not being there now, and knowing all what goes on. I only hear "second hand" info... and whatever my husband choses to tell me.

Yeah, my military stint sucked. It hurt. It still hurts... but I'd do it all over again. If it weren't for Uncle Sam I wouldn't have the motivation to be productive, know more, and see the big picture. I can't say whether I agree with us being in Iraq or not. Doesn't seem right that they all died for a people that are not deserving of our sacrifice. Who are we to extinguish evil? It has existed since the begining of time... and will continue to thrive until this world as we know, will end. Are we ignorant to believe we have that much of an impact on evil? Or do we continue our war there so that the remaining good, might continue to live on in innocence and prosperity?

Oh yeah, I met the love of my life in July of '05. Love came out of all of this... it was worth it.

the days are long, but nights even more

her child was dying, all I could do was photo her pain

I use to journal through-out the years, once I got my hands on a computer "blogging" soon replaced my pen and paper. Often times in Iraq when computers were scarce or rarely working... my friend and solace became pen and paper once again. A few times all I had was a napkin from the untouched MRE meal... (except that pound cake) Pound cake is excellent.
I've been having a diffacult time sleeping since I left the military. Many a nights, I lay in bed tossing and turning... not able to sleep, but too exhausted try anything else. I lay there and the realities of the last 5 years play through my head. Kind of like a damn movie ya can't "pause" or "stop". So, often when this happens I'll turn on the light near by bed and write away my pain, frustration, and any other bothersome thought. Some writings I am too ashamed to keep, so they get burned the very next day. It helps though, it really does.
Perhaps my intent to blog this is that I may bore myself to sleep... for my life is not nearly exciting enough to keep my eyes from dimming.
I wish I was still in Iraq. That's where my mind is right now. Of course, watching 3 seasons of House MD. doesn't help any... at one time in life I contributed to the wellbeing and health of my soldiers. Don't get me wrong, I don't enjoy bandaging a burn blasted leg while gettin' shot at- but my heart is there, and someone has got to do it. When CSM came up to me and said that "you did a good job, he might just get to keep the leg." It felt good. Maybe for once, I did something right and it was for someone else.
So, my mind runs with the pack... and I am laying in bed with my aches and pains. Aches, which in fact medically retired me last month. Evidentally, I was of no use to the army any longer.
Alas, such is life. I must find a new occupation of time spent and energy.
Oh well. Guess I'm gonna go and attempt sleep. In hopes those dreams aren't my past, and of the day prior wishing slumber.