May 19 2003

Hungry Hungry Ferrets

Nice to know that it’s not just the steel-fanged ferrets in my head that pull this shit. Wonder if shoving a cheese sandwich up my nose would provide sufficient distraction for the ferrets such that I could get a good night’s sleep?

What the hell, I’ll try anything once. Twice if I like it. But then there’s the whole issue of inflamed sinuses and dribbling crumbs out of my nostrils in my sleep. I’d probably end up dreaming that my body had been invaded by an army of croutons who were massing for a final attack on my cerebral cortex and then I’d start thrashing around in my sleep and whack my injured elbow against the nightstand and wake up screaming and cussing and then the neighbors would call the cops and complain and a SWAT team would show up to rescue me from an obvious hostage situation and I’d blink the wrong way and get shot to death while trying to escape to freedom. Probably better if I avoid cheese sandwiches altogether, but maybe I should sleep in the bathtub tonight, just in case…

May 15 2003

Home Again, Home Again

Kim du Toit has posted Captain Steve’s last message from the sandbox.

Too bad not all our people can come home yet, or ever will. I’ve gotten all the names from Adopt-A-Platoon for my soldiers (Army Engineers in Baghdad), and am slapping together care packages with a little help from friends and family, in and around not babying my right elbow nearly enough. For all three of you who haven’t heard me whine about not being ambidextrous, my right elbow was squished a while back when I was viciously attacked by my kitchen counter (a conspiracy was afoot – it was clearly in cahoots with the pile of laundry I was carrying). Lots of phone calls to local nail salons later (I was in a little bit of shock from the pain so it made sense at the time) I figured out where the closest ER was and how to get there. The kind folks at the ER mocked and irradiated me, then informed me that I have contusions (no fucking shit!) and a teeny hairline fracture (yay me). Gotta love the blunt force trauma stuff. DayngerGrrl is so in da fuckin’ house. I now have an impressive array of Ace bandages I switch out with much muttering and creative cursing when I get too bugged by the way I last wrapped my elbow, and am working on an ulcer from popping more than one Advil every three days (I declined a cast, as I’m right handed and live alone – not always the brightest bulb in the lamp, now am I?). Hey, at least there’s no meatflap to release into the wild this time around.

Apr 23 2003

Ya Fellaheen…

From an interview Oriana Fallaci took after Gulf War I: “I did what soldiers do.” While I trust her as a source, I am reflexively cynical when moved, and this is heartbreaking, if true.