lost art...

Geez, why even write on here? Honestly, I wouldn't want anyone I know or care about to read this stuff anyhow. My words are raw and perhaps a bit too honest...
It's been a long time, my friend. I speak to no-one, but writing has always been a friend and receiving of me. I don't write nearly as I did in my youth, I guess it's an art form that dies when not used. Kind of like drawing. Or conversation. Thinking. Yes, the brain grows weak and adapts to the environment and company it is immersed with. That being said, being surrounded by idiots (liberals, hoosiers, ect) causes seemingly irreparable brain function loss.
Ok, not all Hoosiers are idiots. 50% are idiots. 40% are ignorant and so poorly educated that I feel the need to dumb myself down to converse. 9% are kind, adventurous, and interesting-- unfortunately, they have all either left the state or are in the process of doing just that. That leaves the remaining 1% of Hoosiers that I have not met. I don't know where they are or how to find them. Maybe they are poor, misplaced souls like myself who live draped over their AC in the home and their dog is the best company they've got.
If you can't tell, I hate Indiana. In 10 years, you can ask me where all I've lived and I'll list the states off... Washington, Oregon, Texas, Tennessee, Kentucky, and heck, I'll even say Iraq. I'd prefer to not recall Indiana and the (hopefully only a) few years wasted of my life in the wretched state.
Ok, I'm not an entirely miserable person. My life has actually improved some within the past year. I've had to fight every inch of better I've obtained, it hasn't been easy.
Kenny has improved allot. Health wise, that is. Still some PTSD, but hey, we can actually go to Walmart now without me wondering if I'll have to abandon the cart and spend the night in the ER with the poor boy. Sitting in church is still difficult, it's hard enough for myself much for Kenny. I don't care for malls, and he hasn't stepped foot in one since he's been home.
I am now pursuing a degree in art, which oddly enough was a default to social work. Don't get me wrong, my grades were just fine in social work... I just didn't have the interest anymore.
My health has deteriorated quite a bit since living in Indiana. The arthritis in my knees is worse. (the constant click-click-POP!) of my knees drives me insane. The pain is pretty intense as well. Thankfully, the nights where I wake up from my sleep crying and screaming from the pain is not often anymore.
I just pray that the Lord will heal me of this arthritis... I can live with Chrons, but I need my joints and every limb. I have many mountains yet to hike, and beaches to run. God knows the Pacific Northwest is one of my greatest joys... I need my health.
The Lord has blessed me. Through trial and error, I finally see a light at the end of this journey that pretty much began in 2003, when I joined the military. I just wait for the day I can pack my stuff, dog, ferrets, husband, and head back to my home. Own a home, maybe with a little property... and start a family near my family. Not too much to ask, right? Seems hard enough right now.
So, as the early morning closes in on 0320, I will end this. Not for anyone, but for myself. Home is sweet, despite sleeping on the futon and this AC lacking house. The sweet pine-scented air, salt-tinted ocean breeze, and the love of my family breathes life into this weary soul.

A Year From the Last...

• I had completely forgotten this blog that I'd started awhile back. I find my last post was a year ago on this day. My love was across the world, and here I sat dwelling in my own sorrow and selfish nature. I suppose not much has changed since then. He is now back from Iraq and in his home-state visiting family and friends. I'm across the country in my home, because I could not handle the changes. I'm a needy creature, I realize this. All I wanted was ONE day, just one day of me and him. "Anna and Kenny" time. No noise, no distraction, no phones... I haven't had the moments opportunity to fall in love with him all over again. That "second-honeymoon".

We live with another couple and a zoo of animals in a house less then 1000 sq ft. I cannot breathe. (and literally as well, since everyone smokes) I have no purpose nor privacy, so I find myself lying on my bed and reading or drawing the hours away. Occasionally, he will come in and see what I'm doing... I'm not as social of a person as he is. Maybe, I want more then the minutes of talk leading to slumber every night. In conversation, I ramble on and then hear his gentle snore. Sometimes, I get up and go watch the news until the wee hours of the morning- slipping back in bed before he wakes and realizes I wasn't there all along.
More often lately, I turn to the wall and let the tears fall. I love him and want him, but his energy and mind is drained. I know and hope that our life will once again mesh in to the beautiful union we once had. We are perfect together, and all our weaknesses are balanced out by the strength of the other. I love my Kenny, I am perfect for him and he is good for me.
Tonight, I think a year back on this day and don't recall much. I'm certain I was lonely, most likely he called. He sent me a gift here to the house today. I saw FedEx and ran to the door... tore the box open hoping to find a cute stuffed teddy bear holding chocolates, or maybe some sexy lingerie. I tear the boxes apart and to find cheeses, apples, nuts, and a small box of chocolate. No love note. Was he serious? Didn't he know I'm on a diet and can't eat cheese anyhow?? The apples were soft and the pears crunchy. I knew he hadn't put a moments thought in this gift... which made me angry. Food? I waived my irritation and called him anyhow, thanking him for the box. (He had just received mine... which had been well thought-through and lovingly packed)
His voice is so sweet on the phone, it melts my heart. He was glad the box got here on time (since I leave for him in two days, anyhow) He really hoped everything in the box, and he said Isy helped pick it out for him. Ah. Two individuals who's minds revolve around food. This whole box is starting to make sense. I got off-subject, not really wanting him to know I can't eat anything in it... we chatted, and I told him that I loved him. I'll try not to be so bitchy, I promised. (Just been dealing with some sad issues of the heart lately)
I admit in hating myself some days, and I don't want to be the only one hating me. There must be something wrong with me-- but when he treats me like a queen, I am offended. I don't deserve him. He can do better, and what would hurt is if he ever believed me to say that and think it be true.
I don't feel this way often, only when I'm terrified of the future-- which, has been often. The box of cheese and apples offended me and made me bitter. Me thinking, "He must have had more important things going on then thinking of me while purchasing that gift." Not even a note!
When I heard his voice, I melted and in my mind I see him pouring over pages of gifts online, trying to decide which one to give me. He seeks Izy's advice, and I now have a bowl of apples.
I love him. He isn't the romantic type at all... he forgets dates and events. He doesn't catch a clue, nor can he read my sly, but implied requests.
He snores and denies it... (although, he's woken with some pretty nasty bruises on his ribs) I had poked and pushed him about his sleeping all night long!
He scrapes the cheese of my pizza and melts soy cheese on it, so we can enjoy our favorite food together. His hands are soft and tender. He never raises his voice with me.
Once, while he was out in the field he came home late one night and walked through the front door in his gear. He held out a fistful of wilted daffodils that he'd picked and kept safe. He said he was sorry they weren't daffodils, but "buttercups", and that hopefully I'd still like them. I fell in love with that man again, for the thousandth time... right then.

He's home. I'm here. It has seemed forever ago I sat and worried over him on this very bed. Clutching my cell phone through the nights, in desperation... that I would never miss a call.
Soon, we will have our own place. I need me some Kenny time. Just him, me, and the ferrets.
Nothing is perfect, I don't even get what I really want out of anything. I do happen to be married to Kenny, and that is enough. I could not go on without him, and do not survive well when apart.
In time, we'll see where we go...

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.