haha! my doggy has eyes like Ganesha!
Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2003 - 7:53 p.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Pretty doggies and Pretty Girls are not always What they Seem
Needless to say, I stayed away from her (she was banished outside) for a few hours til she had licked a bit, and then I scrubbed her whole face with soap... ewwww, imagine the drool dangling from those lips and then her shaking her head inside... ewwww again. Now she is cleaned up but she will not kiss me for a week I swear! And to think I worried about her rep when those people thought she was lying in her own piss. That would have been NOTHING compared to this. eeew and double triple ewww.
Has anyone seen the reports accompanying the release of the tell-all book by the Iraq War heroine Jessica Lynch?? She says the US army/media conglomerate both staged and made up most of her miraculous rescue. Apparently they didnt have to tear down or bust through any doors... they opened it and walked in. There were no Iraqui soldiers or commanders at the hospital, and they had apparently attempted to return her to the Americans the previous day, but were shot at. Apparently she didnt shoot valiantly until she had no ammo left before she was captured. She said she did not fire one shot. Not one. She put her hands over her face, went onto her knees and was captured praying. She was not shot, she had some injuries from when their jeep was overtaken (ie broken bones).
She says she cannot deal with having been made out to be this great warrior heroine when she did nothing but get captured and rescued. Brave honest girl.
Tom of Vermont is continuing to press my "not ok" buttons. He described some wonderful woman who he says is a lot like me: highly intelligent in a useful sort of way (?! vs a nonuseful sort of way?), witty, verbally adroit. But then he added that he had spoken to her about me, and she had said "oh, yes, I was like that in my 40's... people couldnt take me for long". OUCH and again OUCH!! Gee, "people can't take me for long". Well, it is the first time someone has said to me "I was like that in my 40's"... usually this is reserved for people who are 40 to say to people in their 20's... "I was like that in my younger days..." Mea Culpa. urk.
I guess I can say "I was like that in my 20's... people couldn't take me for long"... :) deep sigh. I dont know if it is "taking me for long", it is how i interact with them. Some people can take me all day and all week. Because I am not on edge with them, and thus not snarky or defensive or overexplaining or overapologizing. If I feel like I have tons of time, I tend to be quieter too. With ob (yes, people, yet another "with ob" reference!! see why I'm not ready for a new relationship!), I always felt like there would be a "next time" and so even though we sometimes crammed the last days of a visit with a todo list (things like "fuck with the red dick", "play with wax", "eat at the Middle Eastern restaurant"... really not a bad todo list), I always felt there was lots of time to just veg. To sit in a bar and relax. To fall asleep in the middle of a movie. To lounge in bed. And we didnt get on each others' nerves.
So, Mr. Sagittarius Tom of Vermont is just not helping my comfort or vulnerability level. I feel like "cringe cringe", wondering what will come next. (undoubtedly this is what ob felt like in the last month of our relationship when I started pointing out how she was fucking up). Shades of my mother saying on my second day of a trip to visit her from across the country:" When the wench is not around you miss her, but when she is here, you get enough of her pretty quickly". Now I would say, that just means my mother and I don't have very compatible personalities in a way, rather than I am to be rationed out like evaporated cane syrup. A little drop will do ya, a spoonful will make ya gag. No, that is one of the gifts of friends... realizing that there ARE people who like you the way you are. People who actually talk, INSTEAD of me asking them to talk, or waiting for them to talk. People who drop by without an invite. People who laugh at my jokes instead of telling me I'm not funny. "T'es pas drole" tu sais. Yes, the old flame who called me up the other day always made me feel funny. Because we are funny together. We understand how to be funny, bouncing off of each other, because we are compatible in that way. Even if we havent talked for years. We are goofy and it works.
Speaking of him, I think that he has gone back to Gaspesie. He said he'd probably call for coffee on Sun or Mon, but didnt. He is that way. We bump into each other on the street, have an impromptu coffee, talking about everything in the world for the next 6 hours (yes it's happened). And he disappears for three years. He calls me up out of the blue from some small town hundreds of miles away. We catch up. He disappears for another 5 years. He shows up to paint my kitchen and start a painting business, and then a month later just doesnt answer the phone anymore. Phone is disconnected 5 months later. He calls me again in a year.
I could never go out with him because he is the sort who appears, disappears, appears, disappears. Like fog on a highway on a clear day. Enjoy it while it's there, have no expectations, and certainly don't count on it. But it is nice to get along with someone just like that and it is always the same and I dont feel like "too much"
I shall now go make my quiche piedough. mmm. later!...
Hah, it is only moments later: 9:10pm
Re what a soldier is saying to his country when he signs up:Turns out the ex-soldier is named Paul Fussell, and he has written a book about his experiences as a WWII infantryman. Here is information from the Tampa Tribune:
THE BOY'S CRUSADE: The American Infantry In Northwestern Europe, 1944-1945. By Paul Fussell. Modern Library. 184 pages. $19.95.
I think more people should listen to war veterans and less to filmakers and politicians.
WHooo WHooo (hypnosis sounds):Do my SURVEYS!!! WHOOOOO WHOOOO!!!
0 People have left cute, callous or caring comments on the wench's wordiness!!
ps, you'll need to email me for a username and password
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily