Something about the recent comments over at Wyatt’s has gotten my gears grinding a bit today, and sometimes when my gears grind, I produce more commentary.

Of course I find the story about hecklers attempting to hijack a citizenship ceremony to make it a political protest to be despicable. But it was the comment about over 4,000 people losing their lives that tweaked my brain.

Those people didn’t die for George W. Bush. No matter what insanity people spew forth. Despite the fascism claims. We are not talking “Dubya’s Army”, “The Bush Marines” (heh, heh, bush), “The Crawford Ranch Air Force” or “George’s Navy”. (Though I hear that those are actually the names of Lego sets that George W. Keeps in the Lincoln bedroom.)

People do not join the military to show how much they love the guy in charge, see? Many of those killed joined several administrations ago- there are still folks who are on active duty today that joined back when that bonehead Jimmy Carter was in office! Hell, if I’d done according to plan after high school, I would have joined while Clinton was still in, and my desire to serve my country had absolutely zero to do with that jackass. And don’t take issue with the jackass part, kids. He’s a Democrat, that’s their symbol. I didn’t come up with it. I also am not responsible for his behaving like a jackass- braying loudly and trying to mount anything that moves. Hah!

It’s truly about wanting to serve the country, the friends, neighbors, families and strangers that we see each day. Wanting to be there when the shit hits the fan (heaven forbid) and stepping up to do that duty regardless of who you voted for in the last election. People don’t get that. I don’t think there will be a huge influx of new military recruits if Obama gets elected, folks- nor will there be a bunch of troops getting out if he does. The people who are willing to put their lives on the line are not doing it for one man… but all of the men, women, children and old farts of our land. While that vast number may include the politicians of this nation, it is not solely for their benefit. I doubt they could say the same for their so-called “service”. It’s all about money and power for them.

And people wonder why I dislike politics so much.

Okay, I will try to keep it as rage-free as I can.

Kate recently asked about how things are going here in Italy.

My reply:

Let’s just say it’s not remotely as fun or interesting as it looked on paper.

The idea was pretty neat: Lazy B. gets stationed in Italy, and our little family comes here, we travel on the weekends and see the sights, we get to take trains through the rest of Europe, and basically have a great time, experience some European culture, eat great food, blah blah blah.

How it worked out so far:
Stationed here… Lazy gets the shaft from new unit.
Little family gains another member, which is good, but house stays the same size, which is crowded.
Weekend travel? Gas prices skyrocket- if gas was costing you eight bucks a gallon, would you go for a Sunday drive?
See Europe? We still are waiting on the baby’s passport. Paperwork involved with having a baby outside the U.S. is horrendous.
Culture? The damn Italians protest us. Never mind that we can’t do anything about being here, and that their own elected government is who they should complain to if they don’t like the U.S. base. They make it uncomfortable for the families of folks who are only here doing their damn jobs. Thanks, jerks.
Food? Italian restaurants don’t have a lot of space for big strollers, and I have yet to see a high chair anywhere. With all our babies and so forth, it’s a huge production just getting in the door.

So yeah, I am really disappointed with the whole experience so far. We weren’t accurately informed of what to expect here, for sure…

…yet I sometimes think to myself that if Lazy were to get stationed in Japan, I would love to go. Meh. Probably not though.

Propagandist/professional douchebag Michael Moore is at it again.

He illegally used Michael Yon’s photo (we know the photo, now, don’t we?) on his “let’s all give Obama a handjob and the Oval Office” website. I won’t link to it. But here is the story at Michael Yon’s site. I mean, we know that Moore has no shame, but he apparently has no regard for the law, either.

This is my outrage for the week.

Oh, it was alright, I guess. I had enough to eat, the kids were not atrocious little monsters, and I didn’t lose any cookware or accessories.

Said hi to my Battle Buddy and marveled that it was five years ago that we were slogging through mud together in training, laughing at our awful PT-uniform tans, and getting caught by the drill sergeant folding our laundry in my bunk after lights out (it was also a minor gigglefest, and the D.S. even thought we were a bit amusing). Five whole years. Now I am a hermit, some unknown crazy woman who is married to some soldier and who never leaves the house- and my battle is a first lieutenant in the company my husband is in. She’s pretty kickass. I’m proud of her!

As for myself, it became horrifyingly apparent that I really have got to make an effort at our next post to be more involved in stuff. Of course here, I spent months not getting any information at all from the family group, and my husband spent a year tasked outside the company, so it wasn’t simple to make contacts with the other spouses.

It’s not that I’m really that mean. I do have an awful temper but I am highly skilled at behaving myself around acquaintances. I only feel comfortable raging and burning in front of close friends and family, like any civilized fire-monster. I just don’t like making friends anymore. It’s complicated, awkward, and alien to me. Folks try to be really nice when you move to a new post, with all their “Hey just call if you need anything,” line. I feel like I should just tell them straight out:

“I’m not going to call you. It’s not because you’re not a very nice, pleasant person. It’s because I don’t like asking people for anything, I don’t like calling people in general (ask my mother how often I call her!) and I feel that after 30+ years of life, I should be able to handle my own difficulties. Of course I can’t always, and there are days when I probably really DO need help from some nice person that I really don’t know, but the fact is- I am not going to call you. It’s not you, though. It’s me.”

But that sounds like some kind of breakup. Maybe I should get business cards that just say: