� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
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I realize some holidays are less important than others, but c'mon, they can be just as fun. Remember as kids we used to love going down the halls at school spying for anyone not wearing green so we could pinch them? Or we'd try wearin' green, but not so conspicuously that if we were pinched, we could pinch that person back ten times? Heck, I still wear green every March 17th! Though I'm grown, I still love to show even the smallest holiday's spirit. "The wearin' o' the green!"
Last Thursday an email came quite unexpectedly into my unsuspecting hands. I have no idea who brought it to the bowling league; all I know is Shari showed it to me and I was left with it even after it had been passed around by all the ladies there. What goes around, comes around, I guess you could say in this case. *winks* Perhaps this is my good fortune for the day...
This email is funny as most of the emails I post are, however this one is more for our mothers' generation than for ours--I'm speaking for the 20-something age group here. And it's quite timely as we may, unfortunately, be going to war.
Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children; we would gladly suffer or die to protect them and their future. We'd like to get away from our husbands, if they haven't left already. And for those of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to lose.
We've survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain of Afghanistan with no food at all! We've spent years tracking down our husbands or lovers in bars, hardware stores or sporting events...finding Bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a new government? Oh, please...we've planned the seating arrangements for in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years...we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced enough husbands to know every trick there is for how they hide, launder or cover up bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money, and we know how to seize it...with or without the government's help!
Let us and fight. The Taliban hates women. Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes over their godforsaken terrain.
I'm going to write my Congresswoman. You should, too!
But no, when I was 14 or 15 the Gulf War broke out. It was short, yes, but it brought war close. And I realized as long as man ruled the Earth, there would be war.
My stepdad has been in the Navy, so was my maternal grandfather, and I believe an uncle was too. Paw Paw, as a doctor, has served for the Navy, Army and Marine Corps. And now my brother is a part of the Army Nat'l Guard Reserve, and Kjerstina's brother, Gunnar, has joined the Navy. War has taken on a new meaning for me, especially if we go to war. Because now it's personal. People I know could be shipped off to fight; they could even die.
I once came across another diarist's site surfing D*land. She had adopted a POW and has his history up as part of an effort to help find and remember him and other POWs or MIAs. I thought it admirable and patriotic at the time. However, now that I have someone possibly at stake...I want to do something that may help as well. So I've adopted a POW or a MIA. I will know within the week whom I have adopted and will have a page up in their honor. If you are interested in adopting a POW or MIA as well, you can check out this site. It makes me feel good knowing I've done something good for my country.
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