Saturday, December 31, 2005

Goodbye 2005!

Last year, I was able to ring in the new year with my boyfriend. This year we are celebrating New Years Eve thousands of miles apart, not to mention 14.5 hours apart. He has already rung in the new year, playing Halo with his buddies in Afghanistan. (Halo seems to be the adult version of the bouncy house: it used to celebrate every occasion...or perhaps every occasion is an excuse to play Halo...I fear there will be an Halo-withdrawel once the guys come home.)

I can remember discussing new years' resolutions with people last year, and I can remember not really being that interested in the discussion since I didn't feel like a new year was beginning for me. For me, it was a rather difficult time leading up to the eventual departure of my boyfriend on his deployment. I felt that my year started at the end of February, and in a way I still feel the same this year. For me this year hasn't been measured from January to December, but rather from the beginning to the end of the deployment. For me, this year is not yet over. For me New Years Eve means that we are on the final stretch of the deployment, we are nearing full-circle.

Last year, I was able to spend the New Year with my boyfriend, but not the rest of 2005. This year I will gladly sacrifice spending New Years Eve with him, to spend most of the rest of 2006 with him.

Happy New Year!

Friday, December 30, 2005

Naive American Teenager "vacationing" in Iraq

Okay...I don't really know what to think about the American kid who went to Iraq, and thought he was going to do some immersion reporting. All I can say, is that this kid is definitely a product of America. I mean, only someone brought up in America would think: hey, let me just fly to Kuwait, take a taxi to Iraq and interview a few people...and um, at age 16. I love the quote from the AP guys, who expressed his reaction when Hassan walked into their Green Zone office and said he wanted to work for them:

"I would have been less surprised if little green men had walked in," said editor Patrick Quinn.

I mean, running away is one thing...not telling your parents about your crazy idea to go to Iraq for a school project. I love the quote from his mom:

"I don't think I will ever leave him in the house alone again," she said. "He showed a lack of judgment."

You can say that again. I honestly don't blame the parents. Some children are just like that. My youngest brother was like that. And the rest of us were normal, or relatively. At age 18 months he climbed onto the roof, got my mother's attention, and then jumped as she screamed...and just laughed. And he was always off exploring the world on his own, at age two...they tried with chain locks on all the doors, and were so exasperated that my father finally said to my mother: we either have to tie him up like a dog in that backyard, or hope for the best. So they took the latter course, and today he is the most conservative of us children. (He did have many incidents that he luckily survived, like being attacked by wild dogs at about age three, and requiring minor reconstructive, some day I need to write a book about my family.)

This isn't like drugs, where you can say: well, the parents should have seen the warning signs. Who in their right mind would have thought, my kid planning on secretly going to Iraq for his school project?

Some children just have an independant streak, and lack judgment.

I digress. Thank goodness the story has a happy ending:

Hassan's dangerous adventure winds down with the 101st Airborne delivering the Fort Lauderdale teen to the U.S. embassy in Baghdad, which had been on the lookout for him and promises to see him back to the United States this weekend.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

'Twas the season!

So after getting everything out in my pity party post, I wanted to share pictures from my great Christmas.

My nieces were, as usual, adorable.

Modeling their presents from their favorite!

The above mentioned auntie scored!:

Gorgeous black pearl earring from my boyfriend. He has such great taste, but then again, that's not such a surprise, 'cos he chose me and my sense of modesty...;-)

From the excitement with which my niece is running towards the ocean you would think she rarely gets to go in.

Every girl worth her fashionista salt know that fake fur is a "do" for beach wear this season.

Wrestling with their dad (my eldest brother).

Pity Party

A friend remarked to me a few days ago, well, in a week we'll be able to say the guys come home next month.

When I look at the counter, and see that there are approximately 58 more days until one year has gone by since my boyfriend left, and would usually mean the end of the deployment, it is hard to grasp.

It seems that the closer the finish line gets, the more it feels like a mirage. I am excited, but I am also tired, exhausted. I feel like I am in the last few miles of a marathon, but absolutely spent. And even though I have made it this far, I almost feel like I don't have the energy to complete the rest.

But I am literally sick and tired of it all. I'm sick and tired of the minimal level of communication. I am sick and tired of worrying about my boyfriend. I am sick and tired of having to put on the face of the supportive girlfriend, and trying to convince pitying people that a year apart from my boyfriend isn't as terrible as they think. I am sick and tired of being so optimistic to everyone, when inside I am constantly worrying. I am sick and tired of nodding in pretend agreement with people that "time flew by" this year. I am sick and tired of pretending to be this strong person, just so my boyfriend doesn't feel guilty or helpless. I am sick and tired of being frustrated. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Less than two months to go...

Update: There must be something in the air, because Erika has a similar post today.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Mele Kalikimaka…

…is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day!

Some people believe that for a Christmas to feel truly like Christmas, there must be snow. But that’s not the truth at all.

I have spent every Christmas in memory, except for one, in Hawaii. The title of this blog belies the fact that I have spent one third of my life in Hawaii, one third in Los Angeles, and the last third, and increasing majority of my life, in Germany. I grew up here, and the rest of the United States just went under the nebulous title “The Mainland” for me. The only thing I cared about on the mainland was Disneyland. Everything else was pretty boring: the beaches were cold, there was too much cement, and flip flops were frowned upon as everyday footwear.

Hawaii has so many elements of nostalgia for me. On the flight over to Kauai my best friend from kindergarten and first grade was also on the plane. Although I hadn’t seen her in 20 odd years, I immediately recognized her. The mother of my elementary school art teacher was also flying over. Hawaii is very very small town.

The weather is fabulous, and I already have the beginnings of a wonderful tan. We have opted out of having the traditional Hawaiian Christmas tree this year, in favor of the, pre-lit, pack-out-of-a-box kind. This Christmas my mother and I have decided we are going to cut corners where we can, and spend more time at the beach and doing things we want, rather than unpacking and packing up Christmas decorations.

Tomorrow my eldest brother will come over with his daughters and wife, and most probably dog too, and we will eat Christmas lunch together. Because of our European heritage we will be having duck, brusselsprouts (thank goodness I am old enough to be able to refuse to eat them) and roasted potatoes. Green beans with almonds, baked yams with pecan topping, and pumpkin pie will be the “American” elements rounding up the meal.

And afterwards we usually unpack the presents. After oohing and ahhing over them, we all get into our swimwear and go to the beach.

For me, a Christmas without sand, just isn’t Christmas.

Mele Kalikimaka everyone!

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Oh, man...not again

Can you remember this?

Now the Italian "justice" system is going after a US marine:

Italian magistrates have placed a U.S. marine under official investigation for murder over the killing of an Italian agent in Iraq earlier this year, judicial sources said on Thursday.

Intelligence officer Nicola Calipari was shot dead at an improvised U.S. checkpoint on a road near Baghdad in March as he was accompanying an Italian hostage to safety.

While the U.S. military exonerated its troops of any blame, Rome said nervous, inexperienced American soldiers and a badly executed road block were at the root of the shooting.

Um...I doubt that Marine was inexperienced. If you look at pictures of the car, there are only a few bullet holes. It wasn't a nervous trigger-happy reaction. The Marine was following the procedure, and the car was speeding through the check-point.

So let me get this straight: Italy pays a ransom to release Segrena, aiding the enemy. And now they are investigating a US soldier for the murder of an Italian agent after the release of Segrena?

Priorities=not straight.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

From Wall Street Journal Reporter to Marine

I have often thought, not seriously, about joining the military. How different my life would be from now.

This guy didn't just think about it...he did it:

When you live abroad long enough, you come to understand that governments that behave this way are not the exception, but the rule. They feel alien to us, but from the viewpoint of the world's population, we are the aliens, not them. That makes you think about protecting your country no matter who you are or what you're doing. What impresses you most, when you don't have them day to day, are the institutions that distinguish the U.S.: the separation of powers, a free press, the right to vote, and a culture that values civic duty and service, to name but a few.

I'm not an uncritical, rah-rah American. Living abroad has sharpened my view of what's wrong with my country, too. It's obvious that we need to reinvent ourselves in various ways, but we should also be allowed to do it from within, not according to someone else's dictates.

But why the Marines?

A year ago, I was at my sister's house using her husband's laptop when I came across a video of an American in Iraq being beheaded by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. The details are beyond description here; let's just say it was obscene. At first I admit I felt a touch of the terror they wanted me to feel, but then I felt the anger they didn't. We often talk about how our policies are radicalizing young men in the Middle East to become our enemies, but rarely do we talk about how their actions are radicalizing us. In a brief moment of revulsion, sitting there in that living room, I became their blowback. [...]

The next morning I found myself roaming around the belly of the USS Intrepid, a World War II aircraft carrier museum moored a few blocks from Times Square, looking for a Marine recruiting station and thinking I'd probably lost my marbles. The officer-selection officer wasn't impressed with my age, my Chinese language abilities or the fact that I worked for one of the great newspapers of the world. His only question was, "How's your endurance?"

Well, I can sit at my desk for 12 hours straight. Fourteen if I have a bag of Reese's.

He said if I wanted a shot at this I'd have to ace the physical fitness test, where a perfect score consisted of 20 pull-ups, 100 crunches in two minutes, and a three-mile run in 18 minutes. Essentially he was telling me to pack it in and go home. After assuring him I didn't have a criminal record or any tattoos, either of which would have required yet another waiver (my age already required the first), I took an application and went back to China.[...]

I made a quick trip back to New York in April to take a preliminary physical fitness test with the recruitment officer at the USS Intrepid. By then I could do 13 pull-ups, all my crunches, and a three-mile run along the West Side Highway in a little under 21 minutes, all in all a mediocre performance that was barely passable. When I was done, the officer told me to wipe the foam off my mouth, but I did him one better and puked all over the tarmac. He liked that a lot. That's when we both knew I was going for it.

I hope he keeps on writing...

(via HomefrontSix)

Monday, December 19, 2005

300 Days!

300 days down, only another 65 give or take to go!

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Divided in their Grief

I found this article in the Los Angeles Times about a soldier's widow and her husband's family:

After a young soldier dies in Iraq, the rift between his pregnant widow and his parents deepens. Mourning brings them no unity.

[...]Each American casualty on the battlefields of Iraq rips at the fabric of families at home. Grief is universal. But beyond that, the ripples are unpredictable. Patriotism can be stirred or extinguished; relatives united or torn apart. No family is unchanged.

The article is an interesting window into the lives of the members of a fallen soldier's family and is a reminder that long after the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan are over, many families will still be hurting and missing their soldier.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Care packages

I have been back home for about 36 hours...but have already packed 5 boxes for care packages. While in Germany I only order things online to be sent from US sites, since the postage from Germany is prohibitive.

Thank you, US Postal Service!

Golf and Guns

I got an email from a friend deployed to Kuwait right now. In July 2004 he returned to Germany after a 15 month deployment to Iraq. Having experienced the rigors of a deployment to Iraq, Kuwait is almost paradise, albeit a pretty boring one.

He often sends pics and recounts the mundane details of, by his account, his "idle life" there, and today I got an email with pictures of his room...and had to laugh at this picture:

He writes:

I really like the picture with my rifle and golf clubs. I think that sums up my experience in Kuwait thus far. I really don't know anything about golf but I plan to learn something while I'm here. Also, golf clubs are fun because, as a friend here said:
"There's not a whole lot you can do to inspire more anger in other people who are working than hitting golfballs. Not standing outside smoking, or even sleeping in your chair. Nothing screams "idle" louder than a guy outside hitting golfballs."
I thought about it and I think its true. I should be a pro at hitting sandtrapped balls by the time I leave here.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005


Taco Bell. Beef BBQ Ribs. Target. Sephora. Ross Dress-For-Less. Sunny weather. The Pacific Ocean. TiVo. Newman's Own Microwave Popcorn. Ranch dressing. Dr. Pepper. Wheat Thins. Flip-flops. Shorts. Sunglasses. Cheap postage for care-packages to deployed boyfriend. Blockbuster. The National Enquirer. Cosmo. Pitchers of margaritas. Nachos and salsa. Coldstone Creamery. Pancakes with syrup. Eggos. Mummy. Daddy. Family.


I'm flying home tomorrow!

Kerry's Terrorizing of Kids Comment

Kerry has been getting a lot of flack for his comment a few days ago, basically dissing our troops in Iraq:

And there is no reason, Bob, that young American soldiers need to be going into the homes of Iraqis in the dead of night, terrorizing kids and children, you know, women, breaking sort of the customs of the--of--the historical customs, religious customs.

Um...and he was on the debate club in Yale? Sheesh. If this were Bush, everyone would be reaming him for his lack of verbal eloquence. But instead we are reaming him for the content of what he said.

I digress. Basically, American soldiers are terrorizing kids AND children...(hee hee, it's fun to continue to beat a dead horse). However, it reminds me of a post from CB, back in the day, where he described a raid, in the dead of night. And how the children and wife of the detainee were screaming, and everyone was really distressed. And he said he felt very sorry for them, especially the wife, who was screaming: “what am I going to do?” But he ended up saying the husband was an IED builder and was responsible for the deaths of many people. So even though the soldiers were “terrorizing” those children, their father put them in the position to be “terrorized.”

And obviously, there are cases where they terrorize kids of innocent people, cases of mistaken identity.

A few year back, on a very rainy night in Los Angeles, there was pounding at the door of my brother and sister-in-law's house. At 4AM in the morning. My sister-in-law got out of bed, and looked out the window, and saw that policemen were at the door. So she opened up. The police started yelling at her, and asked if a man was inside and was he armed? She was very confused and said, yes her husband was in the house, but he wasn't armed. And the hustled her out to the squad car. By that time my brother got up, and he was pretty much butt nekkid, and the police then screamed at him to get on the floor, and trained their guns on him, and handcuffed him.

Long story short. Because of the rain, there was some mechanism in the telephone that disconnected it. And in Los Angeles, if something like this happens in certain cases it immediately alerts the police about possible case of domestic violence.

So my brother and sister-in-law were “terrorized” by the police. Sure. It was a mistake on the part of the police. It happens often. However, in comparison with the amount of times that police respond to true domestic violence calls, and other issues and save the day, this is practically negligible. Yes, there are issues of police brutality, and there are cases where the police get the wrong person, and yes, these mistakes can't be ignored. However, to discredit the police overall and focus only on those cases?

The media loves to show footage of American soldiers busting into houses (if they can get footage) and screaming children (and kids...), but why do they not show the shocking aftermath of the suspects' labors? Somehow screaming kids, next to the aftermath of a car-bomb with body parts everywhere doesn't compare.

Context is everything. It reminds me of this:

A few strokes at the edit bay and voilà, The Shining is a feel-good family film.

However, Kerry does concede that terrorizing will happen...he just says “Iraqis should be doing that.”

So really...the terrorizing isn't a problem for Kerry after all. He just doesn't want American soldiers doing any dirty work. He thinks the Iraqis should suck it up, and already be dealing with the whole problem themselves. I mean, according to the wisdoms of Ted Kennedy: “If America can train the best military in the world in 13 weeks, why can't we train the Iraqis in eight or 12 or 15 months to fight and die for their country?"

And I must counter with: how does Ted Kennedy get re-elected again and again?

And with comments of the likes of Kerry's one really has to wonder if he understands the values of propaganda...I mean, his picture is still hanging in the Museum of War Remnants in Ho Chi Mihn City, so he should.

Basically, yes an occupation is not nice, and yes, our soldiers may scare children often. But in the overall picture, there is a lot more good stories about soldiers and the general public than bad. Focus, people!

Sunday, December 11, 2005

New Set of Wheels

I know that this has been linked to often already, I have to link to it too. And yes, you will get a big lump in your throat, and need to wipe your eyes.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

More great advice from Some Soldier's Mom

Some Soldier's Mom has a great post up about what to expect and how to prepare yourself for the deployment of a loved one.

I love Arnold Schwarzenegger

I was cringing, just cringing watching this clip...but it was fabulous...I actually clapped...this clip is for all Arnold lovers and haters alike.

It will make you positively gleeful!

I can NOT believe that that clip did not make it out into the public earlier.

(via Katiedid.)

Oh, shouldn't have

I am a gossip whore. And one of my favorite things is when actors get political:

Gwyneth Paltrow has once again taken a shot at the United States while talking about the resolve of the British people after the terrorist attack in London on July, 7. Paltrow, who lives in London, says she was amazed by the locals' courage in the face of adversity after the coordinated attacks on the London subways.

What was said:
"I find the English amazing how they got over 7/7. There were no multiple memorials with people sobbing as they would have been in America. There, they are constantly scaring people but at the same time, people think nothing of going to see a therapist."

WWTDD's Response:
Alright, listen you condescending b*tch, first of all, you're an idiot. Second of all, you're an idiot. Thirdly, you're wrong. There were plenty of memorials for the 52 people murdered on 7/7. Not as many as there were in America for the 2986 people murdered on 9/11, but there was a pretty good reason why. Can you guess what it is? I just gave you a hint! And while you're furrowing your giant brow in a clumsy effort to think, maybe you can also recall your beloved England when Princess Diana was killed. Those pictures in your head are called "memories" and they're going to reveal images of multiple memorials with people sobbing. Maybe it'll also dawn on you that you named your damn kid Apple. Sure, 'Apple' is shorter than 'Please Yank My Shorts Over My Head And Beat Me Till I Pee On Myself', but it was pretty much the same thing.

Reminds me of MAD Magazine's Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Can she be on my team?

The last thing a military wife, husband or significant other wants is pity. They want support, respect, a helping hand occasionally. But pity? No.

But what do you do when someone voices that in their opinion your loved one is "a sick bastard for liking the military".

I just loved this story.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005


Polls crack me up. I find them interesting to a certain extent, but most of the time, unless the poll is about me and my behavior (never known one of those though), I just shrug my shoulders. It's not like I read it and think, "gee, I am in the minority here, I should change my beliefs."

Dilbert Blog sums it up best:

You’ve probably noticed that opinion pollsters go out of their way to include as many morons as possible in surveys. That’s called a representative sample. And what it means is that the opinion of Einstein, for example, counts as much as the opinion of the guy who thinks The Family Circus comic is sending him secret messages via Little Billy.[...]

My point, if I can remember it, is that it’s dangerous to inform morons about what their fellow morons are thinking. It only reinforces their opinions. And the one thing worse than a moron with an opinion is lots of them.[...]

The only polls I want to see are ones that exclusively includes the people in the top .01% of intelligence who are also highly informed on whatever topics the polls include. Let’s call those people the Well-Informed Super Geniuses. If most of the people in that group have the same opinion, and it’s different from mine, I’m willing to change my opinion.

Californian Quagmire, Part II

I read this comment at someone else's site yesterday and felt the need to elaborate on my post from a few days ago.

Lets see: US Census puts the population at 35,993,799.

I don't have a good way to estimate our presence there, but I think we would all agree 200,000.

2,394/35,993,799 = 0.00665% as a murder rate.

905/ 200,000 = 0.453% as a murder rate.

One of those numbers is 68 times bigger than the other.

Stupid point to make and the politics here usually has more ingerity as a conversation.

Maybe we should worry that really bad math like this is considered a good agrument. And if I wasn't supposed to be getting ready for work I am sure I could come up with equally bad stats for the left.

I weep for education in this country.

Yes, obviously, the rate of homicide deaths in California is lower than the rate of deaths of coalition soldiers in Iraq.

However, I don't see candlelight vigils for the 2000th death each year in California.

I don't see people protesting criminality in California as loudly as I do see them protesting purported crimes of the US in Iraq.

Are those deaths unimportant? Or is it because the rate of homicide is so low, that their deaths become negligible? Are 2,300 deaths just considered nothing? Not to me. Not in a democracy where law and order should rule.

How come CNN doesn't have a page memorializing their deaths?

Those deaths in California are truly “for nothing,” and I think it is hypocritical to supposedly care about the deaths of our soldiers in Iraq, and have candle light vigils for them, but pay less heed to the needless deaths in one's own state.

They don't care anymore about the 2000th homicide of a California resident each year, than they do about the 2000th death of a US soldier in Iraq.

They only care about their own selfish political motivations and dishonor soldiers in doing so.

Last night, by sheer coincidence, I received this email from a friend:

If you consider that there have been an average of 160,000 troops in the Iraq theater of operations during the last 22 months, and a total of 2112 deaths, that gives a firearm death rate of 60 per 100,000. The rate in Washington D.C. (among others) is 80.6 per 100,000. That means that you are about 25% more likely to be shot and killed in our Nation's Capitol, which has some of the strictest gun control laws in the nation, than you are in Iraq.
Conclusion: We should immediately pull out of Washington D.C.

So there is a mathematically correct comparison....even though we are comparing a metropolitan area to a country. However, still same as above: where are the protest marches all over America for the homicides in Washington each year? Protesting those needless deaths?

Monday, December 05, 2005

Iraqi Wedding Traditions

I always love Neurotic Iraqi Wife's posts. I first discovered her sometime this year in spring, butI never delved that far into her archives...that is until today. And I came upon an interesting post about Iraqi wedding rituals, and NIW describes her own wedding. Then end just had me cracking up.

Iraqi media relations

Sminklemeyer's take on the whole "US paid for and planted stories in Iraqi newspaper" scandal:

Almost every word spoken by a professional to the media comes from a strategic platform that benefits their position.So with that being said, it’s become known that we are paying to place articles in Iraqi newspapers. According to this article, politicians are gravely concerned. I wonder if they were gravely concerned about the paid VIOXX articles in Newsweek.

The rest of the post provides interesting insight from someone who was actually in Iraq, and worked together with the Iraqi media.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Never been better!

A friend of mine said to me today, only 11 more weeks!

And it struck me: when my boyfriend first left, I used to count the weeks, and check them off. Every Tuesday, was a further week. But after about Week 9 or 10, I stopped doing it. At that point, I had “gotten used to it.” And now 40 weeks later, I have gotten beyond used to it. This is just plain normal now. Him being gone.

Like I already mentioned, the deployment is now longer than our relationship was before he left. So, even though right now sucks, I can honestly say, our relationship has never been better. I mean, yes, we have communication problems, in fact, I could start an alternative blog called “Issues I have had with my Boyfriend because of Deployment.” Yes, I miss him terribly and wish he were back.

But still, we are so much closer than when he left. The leaps and bounds we have made in our relationship, in closeness, in trust, and in understanding this year, far surpass the foundation we had built in the eight months of dating before he left.

The eight months where the deployment loomed before us, the eight months where we enjoyed each other's company, but were both sufficiently intimidated by the future separation that we preferred to just enjoy the moment, the little time we still had together.

But at some point during the deployment, there was a tipping point, when we both realized that we were going to make it through to the other end together. That I would be standing there at the homecoming ceremony, and his wouldn't be another story of a Dear John letter. (Not that I didn't have my moments where I was worried I might get a Dear Jane letter...crazy, I know, but the mind plays crazy tricks on you sometimes).

And since then, it's almost been like a snowball, gathering momentum, and getting bigger and bigger the further it rolls. So, where for other couples this year may present a year of absence in a longer relationship, for us this represents the core of the relationship, and by default, the best it has ever been.

Which is just really ironic. So I think I might start counting weeks again, the countdown to "Even Better than This."

Saturday, December 03, 2005

The Californian Quagmire

We need to pullout of California:

According to the report "Crime in California 2004," compiled by California Attorney General Bill Lockyer, there were 2,394 reported homicides in the Golden State last year. That compares with 905 deaths of coalition forces in Iraq, chiefly Americans and Brits, during the same time period.

Non-PC Christmas in the 'stan

I don't know if something is in the air there, but in a weird coincidence two soldier bloggers out of Afghanistan posted today about their annoyances with the PC-craze with regards to Xmas: Firepower Forward and Hookerpilot.

Mr. Jolie-Pitt

I think Brad Pitt is such a sh*t. Seriously.

When he was together with Aniston, he couldn't make the time to go to the filming of the last episode of Friends to support his wife, and now he is Angelina's lapdog following her all over the world, and it almost seems like he is becoming her nanny.

Not to mention that super-insensitive photo spread of him and Jolie in W-magazine just months after he and Aniston had split.

I hope she eats him up, and spits him out. Karma is a bitch.

Factoid Moment

Got tagged by Sue:

Here are the directions: Write 5 random facts about yourself, and then list the names of 5 people whom you in turn infect. Also, leave a post to these people letting them know they have been infected

Five Facts:
  1. I leave hot water in the bathtub after taking a bath in winter until it gets cold, because as it is still hot, it works like a radiator and gives off heat.
  2. I jiggle my foot sometimes while sitting, and also in bed, before I go to sleep.
  3. I think my boyfriend is so hot in uniform. [Out of uniform too, but he has asked me to keep this blog as clean as possible...;-)]
  4. In a fit of rebellion, I finally got my ears pierced 2 ½ years ago, at age 25. At this rate I will be getting my belly-button pierced when I am 40.
  5. I think that crock pots are severely underrated by my generation.

I am tagging AlliCadem and WaltonCad. 'Cos I know they liked being tagged, and I have no guilt...;-).

Friday, December 02, 2005

The apples of my eye

I am an fact, five times over.

When my eldest brother's wife had their first daughter, I was so excited. I went with my mother and father to pick them up from the the airport to see her for the first time. I had my camera with me, and my father had the video camera. And we waited at the gate (pre-9/11 obviously) for them to come out. And they were among the last to leave the plane. And when they came out, my brother was beaming with pride, as was the happy mother, who was carrying the 3 week-old baby in a Baby Björn strapped to her chest. And she was covered with a blanket, because she was sleeping.

When they came over to us, my sister-in-law pulled the blanket off so we could see her. And I cried. Now I don't mean tears of joy, which I wiped away laughing. I mean, I just started bawling there. At the gate. There was just so much emotion there. Seeing my brother as a father, this tiny little life that I was instantly in love with, long before ever meeting her. How tiny and small she was. I was just overwhelmed. And embarassed. I couldn't stop crying. The whole way back from the airport I was a bundle of emotions.

I got better after that. The next day, I tried again. And this time I was able to hold my niece without letting my emotions get the better of me. Now I don't cry when I see my new nephew or nieces. But I am so in love with those guys. And now that they are no longer babies, but little people, it is even more fun. Their sense of humor, their honesty, their sisterly-love for each other.

And they are just adorable. I mean, gorgeous. I got this picture from my brother yesterday, with the note: "Check out my beautiful daughters." So in turn, I say: check out my beautiful nieces.

Can't wait to see those girls again in just a few weeks!

And um, this girl is only six, and has a better sense of fashion and poise than I do. I tell my sister-in-law, she reminds me of the girl I always used to hate in school, just too perfect (except for the fact that she just lost another tooth):