Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Books I need


I first came across this book while shopping in Savannah with J and K. Of course J found it absolutely apalling that I would even find such a book amusing, while K thought it was pretty funny (the difference between the sexes). I don't know... maybe it is just me (but I kinda doubt it)... from the time we are very little, there is just something in girls that finds great enjoyment in tormenting (physically or psychologically) little boys simply because (as the more intellectually advanced sex) we can.

I recently found out that the author of the Boys are Stupid book has since come out with Girls are Weirdos (but they smell pretty). While the title does not sound particularly flattering representation of the prettier half of humanity, it is actually just a confession that guys do not understand us at all, but they are attracted nonetheless and in the end the fact that we smell (and look) pretty overrides the fact that they think we are rather strange.


Anyone who knows me at all knows that I am often irritated by the entire male population. I think these books are PERFECT because sometimes laughing at boys is actually more fun than tying them to trees and making them eat worms (not that I would ever consider doing such a thing). =P

Friday, May 23, 2008

I should not watch the weather channel!

I can't help it... as I sit here freezing, I get very jealous when I see other areas of the country enjoying temperatures in the 90s and 100s. I think it is time to go back to Iraq.

Monday, May 12, 2008

A week in paradise...


Crystal-blue water, beautiful sunny days, soft sand, amazing flora and fauna, and of course... 7 whole days with my Mom and sister... doesn't get much better than that!
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Snapshots of a FABULOUS week in the sun!

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Tuesday, May 06, 2008

I miss him so!

There are days I can forget. For years now I have been a couple hundred miles away from where he lived, I was used to not seeing or talking to him on a regular basis, but each time I drive back to the state I still claim as home, I am reminded all over again that he is gone... forever.
The other day I took my scissors out of their case (I had a haircut to do) and quarter dropped out. I knew immediately what it was. I remembered putting it there last summer just before leaving for Iraq. It was a drummer boy quarter. Grandpa always collected them, telling us that someday they would be worth something more than 25 cents. I had put that quarter there so I would remember to give it to Grandpa when I went home next. I'd always cut his hair and he'd tell me what great job I did - that I was much better than his barber. The day I put that quarter in my scissor-case I didn't know I'd never cut his hair again or have the chance to give it to him.
It may seem silly and rather unimportant, but it is the little things - reminders of the things I didn't do or say that make it hardest. There is never a good time to say good-bye, but at least a bad time is better than never being able to say it at all.