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veterans day, and other stuff
Thursday, Nov. 11, 2004,

"The market is "free", which is to say savage. Psychology has divorced higher purpose and married Prozac. Religion has become the province of fundamentalists people whose rock-hard faith is matched only by their boneheaded politics.
~Andrei Codrescu, January, 1996



VETERAN'S DAY, 2004
For the men in my life who served--
Thanks to my brother, Army M.P 1981-1984
Thanks to my husband, USAF Nuclear Weapons Tech 1977-1981
Thanks to my old boyfriend B., Army helicopter mechanic,1982-1986
Thanks to my friend J., Army Stryker Brigade 2001-current (Just rotated home from Mosul)

And all the new "old friends" I made at the 5th Fighter reunion in August...Skip, Jammer, Karen, Hogan, Dan, Bill, Tom, Scott, and all the rest. Thank you.

Thanks to everyone who served and serves, be it in the 50 below cold of North Dakota, fighting the cold war back in the days when we fully expected the Russkies to come down over the North Pole, (Like my husband) or in the 120 heat of Iraq, fighting a hot war where you don't even know who the enemy is on any given day (Like J.)



It's a cold and windy, evil November day today, and I hate it. I loathe this god-forsaken windswept prairie.
Every winter is another icy knife in my heart. It turns me into a helpless, weepy pile of jelly. K-Reist, will somebody help me get the fuck out of here?!

Never mind. The jesus-bangers have all the warm places, anyway.



Gonzales is, in my opinion, another disastrous choice for AG. You know, every time I get to thinking that struik* cannot possibly be capable of sickening me any more...he makes another decision that makes me throw up a little in my mouth.


Actually, I'm feeling marginally better today. The worst is over for this month, and I had my maintenance therapy yesterday, so I hurt less. I'm freezing, though, and that always makes me cranky.


Dinner last night was okay. It was nothing to write home about, but the roast was fairly tender and the veggies got done. It all tasted good.

We ate early, then ran over to the Northside Library so Spouse could go to some Train Club thing. I just hung out in the stacks and checked out a bunch of stuff. I needed reading material pretty bad. I got an assortment of humor, poetry, mysteries, straight fiction, and biography--something for every mood.

When we got home, I tried to catch up some on the dishes, did some wash, puttered around, and went to bed.

BLTs tonite.



I found C. Howard's Violet candies at the Walgreen's last night. After my appointment, I stopped at the drugstore for nylons, allergy pills, and some other stuff, and they had them by the register! Probably the weirdest thing I love--flower-flavor candy. But they remind me of my maternal grandmother, and I just think they're neat.


It looks like Arafat is really dead this time. They've been doing the Franco thing for a week now, so it is about time they made up their minds about it. And he's not only merely dead, he's really most sincerely dead.

I will not mourn the father of modern terrorism. The man invented the suicide bomber. Unfortunately, he never utilized the concept personally.

I'm glad I'm not Jewish today. Because I get to believe in Hell, and enjoy the thought of him roasting there.
Hey. I never claimed to be perfect.









* struik is Dutch for a name so repugnant I cannot bear to write it in English.




Reading: �The Dog With the Chip in His Neck", Essays by Andrei Codrescu


Listening: XM, �Seventies on Seven� and "Comedy 150"


Beading: Not, not, still not.



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