Wicke and I change a tire in the

sand... this REALLY SUCKS!

TOP PICTURE: Lt Albaugh,

Wicke and I, headed back to

Kuwait after months in the

Iraqi desert! Bottom Pic:

Wicke and me pose on the

hood of our Command post

post truck.

After spending many weeks of total boredom in the Iraqi desert, just waiting for the ok to go the hell HOME, we were FINALLY given the go-ahead to load up and head back to Kuwait, to begin the process for Re-Deployment back to the U.S.

None of us got too excited about actually going HOME at this point. I'm not sure why. Maybe because we were just too used to the military way of good things going bad at the last minute, and the 'hurry up and wait' process, so we were prepared to just have a better life at Camp Doha where there was REAL food, tents, laundry facilities, and PHONES!!!

All of us were thrilled to be just DOING something and GOING somewhere! It took no time at all to break down or site, load up and head out. Lt Albaugh, Wicke and I were in the back of a Humm-V for a change. Usualy, Wicke or I were driving the commander and XO, but both of our trucks were down for repairs so we got a free ride into Kuwait, which was a nice change! We all sang the entire trip in! We took turns trying to remember all the words to our favorite songs,oldies, country, etc. We'd make stuff up when we'd forget. It had been MONTHS since we'd actually HEARD any music since every one's batteries had long since gone dead.

All I wanted was a HOT SHOWER and some french fries.. ohh and a COLD PEPSI! we were all salivating over the thought of being totally CLEAN for the first time in over 100 days!

Not having a shower in that long was a huge thing. we had put up make shift showers, where we'd pour a few gallons of water in it, and let it drizzle out on us through a hose. (Even THAT had taken us over 2 months to get! Before that it was just 'hit the hot spots with baby wipes)

As we pulled into Camp Doha, I think we all felt like going a little nuts! We all took showers, did some laundry and ate a HUGE meal! Our tents had these HUGE industrial size fans in them, actual WOOD flooring, and lots of space compared to how we had been living. It was really freaking spectacular!

There was a movie theater, a small P.X, fast food chains, but dang it, everyone was out of ice. we were still in heaven though!!!!

within 24hours we all felt like shit. Thank GOD the port-a-johns were directly behind our tents!! Having real food hit our systems like a freight train!! I spent more time running for the shitter than I did enjoying the damn food! But I sure did enjoy the food!!

A few weeks later we had the inspectors come to check our bags, and loaded them up onto trucks. We took all our equipment, trucks and such to the wash racks and loaded them for the ship to head for home, but still we didn't really feel like WE were going home.

The temperature was still about 130 degrees during the day and 100 at night. It was better where we were, but still not home. We had plenty of time to call home, but many of us didn't call much. There wasn't anything to SAY. We didn't know when we were coming home, we didn't have any news... and it hurt to talk to our family. It was easier to just not do it. Maybe it doesn't make sense, but even I avoided calling my kids. They always cried because I couldn't tell them when mama was coming home.

When the day came that we were actually going to load up on the buses to go home, there was no excitement. The night before I had nightmares that we were just about to climb the steps to the plane,then my commander told us we had to get off the plane because we had new orders to go back into Iraq. It felt so real, that I totally expected it. I think everyone else did to.

We got onto small buses with black curtains on the windows that would take us to Saddam Husein International airport. We were told not to look out the windows for safety sake. We all just chatted and joked like usual, like it was just another day. We arrived at the airport which had been turned into a makeshift PX in parts, but our buses let us out on the runway where a HUGE airplane awaited us. The pilot, co-pilot and all the flight attendants were standing by the flight of steps waiting to welcome us. As we marched up to the plane, they began to cheer, waving tiny flags, jumping up and down, yelling "YOU'RE GOING HOOOME!!"

We filed onto the plane, now beginning to get a little more excited. I sat by Lt. Albaugh, and both of us were ear to ear with huge smiles at the way the plane was decorated! They had signs up saying 'Welcome Home!' and 'Thank You Soldiers!' and ' Way to go USA' We ended up sitting in FIRST CLASS!! the seats were the most comfortable EVER! we played with them as we waited for take off. They reclined back all the way, so they were like BEDS! we had little t.v.'s in front of each chair. TELEVISION!!!! YIPPEEE!!

The pilot came on over the loud speakers and gave us a speech that I barely remember. He told us he and his flight crew were really proud of us and proud to be taking us all HOME! that's when the chills crept up my spine. Maybe it was going to happen? He told us all that the flight would last 24 hours and where the layovers would be and what the weather was like.. NOT AS HOT AS IRAQ!!!

He said 'ok troops, are you all ready to gooooo HOOOOOME???'

The engines rumbled, the plane shook as we moved down the runway, My heart sped up, Lt. Albaugh looked over at me, her face mirrored what I felt.... she was ear to ear grinning!! we grabbed each other's hands and I whispered 'holy shit LT, is it really happening? are we for REAL fucking going HOME?" She gulped and nodded. I don't think she could talk.

The plane lurched and lept into the air, and we all simply ERUPTED into cheers! Screaming, yelling, shouting... WE WERE GOING HOME!!!

ok I'll admit it, I cried. I think most everyone else did too. At least a little bit. Tears of happiness, excitement, joy, and being totally overwhelmed by it actually happening.

A little while later, the flight attendants came around with snacks, and they got some of the guys dressed up in makeup, scarves, jewelry and aprons! They had them hand out the snacks and drinks! We were all cracking up, just really enjoying something FUN for a change!

I went into the bathroom and almost died laughing. There was a small sign over the toilet that read "Flush over Iraq, or Hollywood"

We slept a lot on the way home, but awoke when the pilot announced that we were over El Paso. I looked out the window at the brown desert, and just stared we were home.

We got the news of the ambush on the 507th several days after it happened. Nobody knew if there were deaths, p.o.w.'s or mia's. for sure, We just knew there were some or all of the above. We KNEW these soldiers. They shared our barracks back home and were our maintenance company. During this deployment we weren't attached to each other, but suddenly war was oh so very real to us all. This had hit us all very hard.



We talked amongst ourselves about who we knew, wondering if they were ok or who was alive pr not. Eventually news came down that some were ok, but there were several M.I.A's ( missing in action) ...some thought to be dead and others who were P.O.W's. I was more terrified then, than at any other point of the entire war. What wold these people DO to our brothers and sisters? Especially to the women. My boys became more protective of me.. Always making sure my weapon was clean and I remembered the hand to hand combat techniques we'd been taught by our infantry boys.



My Chris was especially worried, and one morning, not long after the 507th ambush, we prepared to roll through a small town that was said to be especially hostile. Chris came to my truck to see me. We were about to leave, and I was siting there in silence, just thinking about what might lie ahead.. He is a calm, quiet man, and his voice was intense as he told me what to do. "Babe, if things go wrong, I want you to listen tome ok?" I could only nod "keep the truck running as long as possible, and shot anything or run over anything and anyone that gets in your way. If your truck is disabled get out and run. Baby, don't let them take you alive. Fire 3 shots then take off running in another direction for 100 seconds. Fir anther 3 rounds and take off in another direction. That way they can't find you by your gunfire. Keep shooting and running until you get away From the town or where the fighting is. IF you run into anyone, use your weapon as a club, use your bayonet, and use your fists, feet, teeth if you have to." He had me by the arm, squeezing me tightly. I stared at his face, so full of emotion, ans something I'd never seen before. I think w were both scared this would be the last time we would ever see each other alive. "don't let them take you prisoner. You use those last rounds if you have to."



I had put 3 spare rounds in my pocket several days before. The rounds went into my pocket as a preventative measure in case I got caught up in a battle and used up all my ammunition without realizing it, and had none left to use on myself. It was my intention not to be taken P.O.W. I would take out as many as I could, but I would take my own self out if it came down to that.



"Be careful" he whispered "I love you and I WILL see you soon." I choked out "I love you too" and grabbed him by his flack vest and kissed him quickly. I couldn't have given a shit less who saw us at that point. "take care of yourself" I yelled as he walked away into the early morning darkness.



I became someone else that day. I was totally prepared to kill. I knew I could pull that trigger and take down anyone no matter if it was a an, woman or child.. I shut off all my emotions and just scanned my sector, looking for any movement.. We saw burning buildings, and even a few dead bodies in burning trucks. All was quiet ad dark. I was so eerie. So totally quiet. No movement, no sounds... nothing. I don't think I breathed the whole time our convoy rolled through the town. We made it through and we all felt a sense of relief and the tension was lifted for a while as the sun came up. That was one of the most glorious sunrises I'd ever seen. It seemed to be a celebration of life with all its fiery colors and the way it set the whole, huge sky i=on fire. The joy of being alive lasted only a little while, then it was back on the road fora long convoy.



Several days later we got the news of the 507th. I heard it in the command post and took the long walk to my platoon to deliver the sad news. "we just got word on the 507th" I said. Everyone gathered around, asking questions. By the look on my face, they quieted down quickly. "there are confirmed P.O.W's We know they are Miller, Johnson, and Lynch. "faces fell as I told them "there have also been confirmed KIA's.. Kiel and 'Pie'. We still don't know about the others." 'your sure 'Pie' is dead?" came the question. that's when a tear slipped out "yeah I whispered. 'She's gone' We all stood there in silence as I dried y eyes. All I could think about was that she had probably promised her 2 kids she would be coming home. I cried quietly as sgt Masce came and hugged me. I walked off to be alone, and to get a grip on myself. I decided I would just deal with it later, once I was safely home. I couldn't afford to let my fear or sadness rule me. It just wasn't part of my life at that time. I had to put it away, so I did. Much later after I was home I shed many tears for my friends and even those I didn't know too well. It could have easily been us. I felt guilty for coming home and for being happy. Those feelings still creep up on me when I least expect it. I want to do something ;for those who dies. But what do you do? How can I tell their families ho sorry I am that they lost their soldier? How do you convey what you feel? maybe I will find a way through this book. If I Can keep their memories alive in a way, then maybe it will help ease the ache someone feels for them.

Me and my weapon, "Harrison Ford"


I only cried 3 times the entire time I was in Iraq. That's quite a feat for somone who can get choked up over a good commercial. But like I've said before, I became somone else while I was there. I simply stopped being a mother, a daughter and a woman. I wasn't a sister or a girl or a woman. I wasn't even Becky or "Laddie" I was just a soldier staying alive so I could keep my battle buddies alive so we could go home.

Ive spend many more tears since I go back to the safety of my home, but then I just couldn't afford to lose it. The first time I cried was when I got my first letter from my kids. We hadn't gotten ANY mail for over a month, so when we DID, it was so wonderful! I sat on my cot beside my truck, holding my letters, feeling my heart ache for my children. I missed them suddenly- DESPERATLY and realized I hadn't thought of them in a few days. I had purposly put them out of my mind because I didnt want them in this place. Then all of the sudden, there was that loopy scrawl of my baby girl on that envelope with tear stains on it. She'd circled them and writtten "sorry I cried on the letter" I opened it and began to read...
"Mama I miss you SO BAD! Thank you for making me do right and telling me you're proud of me. Thank you for always driving me to school and kissing me goodbye in front of my friends even when I pretended I was too embarisd to kiss you back. You are the best mom in the world and I love you. Please come home safe. I will pray for you every single night. Love your doter, Kayla."
The one that really got to me the most was from my middle daughter, Courtney. She was 9 at the time, and helped her little brother Hunter with his message also.
She wrote "Dear mama, I bet it is scaree where you are. Do planes crash into bildings? Do they shoot at you much? Every night we pray for you. Hunter always prays the same thing. He says 'dear god pleez dont let my mama die.' I think it's kinda funnee. Love you, Courtney."
Well I didn't think it was funny. It tore my heart out to think of how all of this was affecting each of my children. They were watching the footage of 9/11 and wondering if all that was still going on where their mom was. They were scared I was going to die and never come home, not understanging where I was or when they would get a phone call or a letter from me again. I couldn't reasure them I was ok. No child should have to worry that their parent is not going to come home alive, but this is the life for so many kids. They had their own little life of terror, fueled by not comprehending or fully understanding and added to byb imagination.

I sat there in the sand and tears slid down my face. I tried not to let anyone see. We were all in our own little worlds of pain and lonliness at that point. Wicke had gotten a letter from her family who was keeping her baby. She came over to tell me about her news. "Hailey has 2 teeth, I can't believe she has teeth already! and I missed it!" I squeezed her arm and we sat in silence for a bit. Then we folded up our letters and I put mine in my pocket. I decided then and there I wouldnt re-enlist. This wasn't the life for me or my kids. I'd do my job and be proud of what I'd done, but I didn't want to do it forever. This was going to be enough for me.
I didn't read that letter again while I was in Iraq, but I carried it with me in my pocket for a long time. I'd touch it every now and then and pray "Dear God, please don't let their mama die"... and he listend.

During the convoys, the differences between male and female really became apparent. There is no way to be tactful about it, but it was the "Pee" issue. Iraq is the FLATTEST place I've ever seen in my life. There isn't a bush, a stick or a hill to hide behind to 'do your buisiness. And as we travled across the miles and miles of sand, we could'nt wander off from the safet of the vehicles.

The guys could just hunker up to a vehicle and undo their fly. The females had a whole mess of crap to go through to go pee! My flack vest and L.B.V. ( load bearing vest), which held 2 full canteens, a bayonett, 6 full magazines of ammo, a first aid kit and my gas mask. This heavy vest came down several inches past the waist band of my pants, so I had to take both of those off, then undo my pants, and of course there was no 'hunkering' for me! During convoys we were almost always in hostile areas, or where the threat was unknown so we assumed it was hostile. The safest way to relieve ourselves was to do so inbetween vehicles while other's 'pulled gaurd'

I drove a Humm-v full of R.S.O.P. soldiers, and 4th Infantry soldiers who had been attatched to us when we arrived in Kuwait. The 4th ID soldiers were our security. They were just as good at pulling pee gaurd for me as my own guys were! Each time we'd pull over to re-fuel, I'd get out and ask 'Ok boys, who's pulling pee gaurd this time?" somoen would groan and moan and get down, put his back to me, pull out his weapon and pull guard while I did my buisiness. The others would politely turn their heads. As the weeks and months went by, we pretty much forgot to be embarrassed or annoyed by our bodily functions. Not a day went by that I didnt see somnes bare ass out in the wind and sand. We all just looked away when it happned.

Once when "Whee" was pulling Pee Guard for me during a convoy, it was really windy, which results in the pee going totaly sideways, and soaking your leg or left or right boot if your not fast enough to crab -turn -around. So as Whee starts pulling guard he is yelling at me "Ladd, I SWEAR TO GOD if you get ONE DROP on me I will BEAT YOUR ASS! ONE SINGLE DROP LADD! NOT ONE DROP! That became the mantra of my truck for the next several day ( not ONE drop Laddie) haha very funny guys.

But seriously, what more can a girl ask for? How many people have had a truck load of men willing to stand guard for them while you're at your most vulnerable?

Me, in 'Full Battle Rattle'

We all made promises to each other. I knew my back was allways covered, and that I would neve go hungry or thirsty. My greatest fear was bieng left behind nd being a p.o.w. I told Spc Peed "don't ever leave me out there ok" Now, 'Peedy' is a big ole guy, over 6 feet and not a boney fella either. He told me not to worry. "Ole Peedy will carry you with him if he has to Ladie, but what if I get shot and can't get away? What are you gona do THEN?" I told him I'd drag his big black ass all the way home if I had to, but I sure as shit wouldn't leave him behind either. We shook on it and just sat quiet. Sometimes you said enough and don't need to say any more.

our R.S.O.P. Team. Im 5th from the left in the front row. This was taken in Kuwait the day we left for Iraq.

We'd been in Kuwait for about 2 weeks when Chris and the other's on supercargo finally arrived. I was SO happy to see him again! We wer'ent able to speak to each other, which was AWFULL, but a few of our friends knew we were 'dating' so we let them in on our secret, and they helped us pass letters back and forth to each other. It was strange, after leading a regular dating life, to have to basicly ignore each other, and communicate only with love letters, smuggled to each other through friends!! We also devised a 'signal' that meant "I love you". I'd pat my heart with my hand and he'd do the same back at me. Sounds so corny, but I'd see him walking across the site, and I'd slap my chest, and he'd grin at me and smack his chest back. Some days it really was the only thing that made me smile.

Some things I'll never forget. Some have no real significance to anyone but me. Others are remembered by all of us in Echo battery. There were nights that I was just happy to have made it to that sunset alive...then I'd realize that I may not live to see the sunrise. It wasn't as if safety came with nightfall. The day wasn't over when the sun went down. The enemy didn't clock out at a1700 hours. You never knew when it was going to end or when it was safe, or when it would be all over for you as a person in this world. We all came face to face with our reality and shook hands with it. I felt better sleeping with my boots on, and one hand always touching my weapon. Living this way was a very new way of life for me, and I became a very different person.

On the way out of Kuwait into Iraq, our R.S.O.P team was the first leave. We loaded up our hum-v's and in 'Full Battle Rattle', headed out. As we walked across site to the trucks, Sgt Lopez yelled 'Eye of the tiger Laddie' ( My last name was Ladd then, and everyone called me "Laddie or Mom") We both laughed as he 'sang' the theme song to "Rocky". He caught my eye and told me to be careful, and said "We'll see you on the other side" I walked to my truck listening to others holler "good luck" and "go get 'em" The sun was bright and we flew our flags from each truck. I drove off and never felt like more of an American than in that instant. I knew I was off to war, even though I'd been in country for a month. This was it and we all knew it. I heard the theme song from 'Rocky' in my head and had to smile...."Eye of the Tiger" oh yeahhhh look out Iraq, here we come!

The day finally came. We were leaving and there was no turning back. Our vehicles were in storage, barracks rooms wre cleared and cleaned out and bags were packed.

Chris and 2 other soldiers from our battery had left 2 weeks earlier on 'Super Cargo' with all of the PATRIOT equipment, bound for Kuwait. They would arrive about 2 weeks AFTER we all got in country.

Being part of a PATRIOT missile unit meant that we were to protect the skies from any air threat. Our system could shoot down enemy missiles and air craft to put it simply. There were many large trucks, and pieces of equipment that those trucks hauled that worked together to keep the skies safe. All of that was now on the ocean, working its way around the world, just like we soon would be too.

The weeks leading up to Feb 1st 2003 were spent in a chaotic frenzy of tying up loose ends and saying all the things we wanted to say to loved ones. I think we all got a taste of what it might be like for a terminaly ill person. Who knew if we would be alive in a week? I know several people made amends with loved ones who they hadn't spoken to in years. Spouses were especialy emotional. Some became closer, and some fought constantly. We were all there for each other, and leaned onone another like never before. We all knew that we were to be the only fanily we would have for God-only-knew how long.

Neumann and I had been suite-mates in the barracks, each having our own room, but sharing the connecting bathroom. I had moved out into a house on post a few months before when Kayla had moved down to live with me when housing became available. Neumann and I were "peas and carrotts" and usualy did everything together. So we spent thre last hours before we deployed packing up her room and storing some of it at my house. Then we camed out in our sleeping bags on the floor of her then empty room. We shared a glass of wine and toasted to our families, our friends and to comming back home. Finaly around midnight we fell asleep, only to wake up a few minutes later for a 1am formation!!

It was odd to think how this was my last hot shower, my last night to drink alchohol, my last night to feel safe!! I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know enough to be TOO scared. All I knew was there was no turning back. So I was ready to go and get this show on the road!

Feb 1st dawned cold and clear. Tensions were high and we were all dealing with mixed emotions. My platoon Sergeant, SSG Donnelly, gave us a speech that made my eyes water a bit. He LOOOOOVED giving speeches. The man could go on for days. But he was really on a roll with this one. He promised he wouled be the last one in the foxhole and he would personaly guarantee that he would leave none of us behind, and bring us all home. ( mixed in with his 'signature words' of DOGGONE and DAGGONE). We ALL made promises to each other that day.

All 'my boys' on the R.S.O.P. team came to me individually and in their own way, promised to look out for me. As the only female on the team, it made me more aware of the danger we would be facing. I wasn't any more scared. I had complete trust in myself, my training and my battle buddies. But the reality of it was hitting me pretty fast.

R.S.O.P. stands for Recon Survey of Site Proceedure. We would be findingeach new site for the battery to occupy by going ahead, searching for the best site to stay then sweep it for landmines and stake out where each piece of equipment needed to go. It was slow and tedious work, but had to be done correctly in order to ensure the ENTIRE battery's safety and to give us a safe place to 'live' every few days.

The threat of Nuclear, Biological and Chemical attack was always present, and having to wear all that protective gear was NOT something I was looking forward to!! It was hot, heavy and cumbersome. All I could think of was how difficult it would be to run and shoot wearing the gas mask, an extra layer of thick coveralls, rubber boots and rubber gloves!!

I had a great bunch of guys to work with and I felt very safe to have them on my team and at my back. We had been well trained and were ready to go! We knew our job so well we could do it in our sleep.

That morning at the gym we said our goodbyes. There was a corner set up with flags and a camera. Each soldier was instructed to go over and have his or her picture taken. There was no if's and's or buts about it. Neumann and I gave each other a look. She said "are you thinking what I'm thinking??" I nodded. We both agreed that this may be the last picture families ever had of their soldier and the army wanted to make sure they had something to remember them by. When I stepped up to have my picture taken I felt really wierd. I could NOT get that thought out of my head, wondering if this picture would be blown up poster size and placed by my casket. COME ON NOW stop that I told myself.

Even though I had nobody there at the gym to say goodbye to, it was heartbreaking to watch my boys tell their familes goodbye. Barnes, Valadez and Hedrick were all leaving behind pregnant wives. Tears were inevitable, adn even though they tried to be tough, they shed tears also. I was ok until I saw Spc. Lopez's mom as she sobbed, crossed her son and said "God be with you Mijo". His head was bowed, as his 2 little girls sobbed at his knees.

I called my kids who were leading their normal lives, getting ready to go to Kayla's first basketball game. She was nervous and I assured her she'd be GREAT! Hunter was too busy playing PS2 to talk long, but told me he loved me and handed the phone to Courtney. I told her I wanted to say goodbye adn it might be a very long time before I could call again. She said " Oh mama thats ok!" I asked her if she knew what I was doing and she said with all her 9 year old nonchalance " yeaahh you're going to save the world!' ( and I think she actualy believed that!) I purposly kept it short and not too emotional. I don't know if that was more for my benifit or theirs.

The time came to load the buses bound for the airfield. We were told to be strong, remember our military bearing, and that we were all comming home together soon. T.V. cameras were all around as we formed up to march off. Sgt. Bradleys litle girls were crying and hanging on to whatever part of their daddy they could grab on to. One of the girls shrieked " DADDY PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!" It tore my heart out as he peled her off and handed her to his wife. I think all the families felt like screaming something similar at that point. The crowd stood back as we all marched on to the bus and toward the unknown.

Trying to pack for a deployment that had no definate length was difficult. We could only take our military bags which consisted of 2 duffel bags and one ruck sack! With all the military gear we were REQUIRED to pack, there was very little room for anything else.

After spending a lot of time in the field, we had learned how to pack things tightly, buT THIS was a true test of our abilities! What to take? what NOT to take? What was really important and what was necessary? The females were told to pack up to 18 months worth of feminine hygine products because there was NOWHERE to purchase those items once we got into Iraq! Just how many tampons DO I use in a year? ( ....add three, carry the five........)

I had arranged for my kids to go back to their dads' after comming to spend Thanksgiving break with me, and had decided Kayla would live with my ex-inlaws while I was deployed. It meant she would be living just a few doors down from her brother and sister and I felt she really needed family at this time. Kayla wanted to spend Christmas with her brother and sister, and we were so busy with the upcomming deployment we talked and decided she would go with Courtney and Hunter when they went back after Thanksgiving. That was a very hard decision to make. I WANTED to be selfish, and keep her there with me! Even at 10, Kayla was learning how the military life operated and she reminded me how I was rarely home anyway lately, so she'd rather just go 'start this mess' and begin her time living with her Nana and Papa. She was right, I WAS working from dark til dark every single day, and that was no kind of Christmas break. Also we might have to leave at a moments notice, so I sent all three of my babies to Oklahoma that week. It was bittersweet because they were excited to be together, Happy that it was Christmas break and sad that I was about to go off to war.

I spent several nights missing my babies, wishing they were there with me again, wondering if the last time I kissed them goodbye were to be the last kisses we'd share. I would call them, and cheerfully talk and laugh, then hang up and cry and ask God if I was doing the right thing. Those were tough times for me as a mom. I know it was hard on Kayla also. She had to start a new school in the middle of the year and was probably the only kid who had a parent who was deploying! I don't know if this made it easier or harder on her, but through it all she was SUCH a strong young lady! I think she had it the hardest of all of us. Courtney and Hunter lived with their dad so life for them didn't change much like it did for Kayla. They had all been prepared for my eventual deployment while we were together at Thanksgiving. I answered all their questions as best I could (Do you have a knife in your boot? Will you kill people? Are their big bugs in Iraq? Will you bring me a suprise?) And I reassured them mama would be just fine. They got to meet a lot of the people I worked with, and THAT seemed to make them feel better, knowing these people would be there to help protect me if I needed it. I had to ask myself if I was about to break my first promise to them. Would I come home to them alive and well? I didn't want them to worry and watch the news, thinking I was in harms way. I didn't want them to cry and feel scared. I wanted to PROTECT them from the horrors of war. That is my job as a mom! But I would be so far away! I had to trust that the famiy I'd left them with could help them deal with whatever came up. As I prepared to leave them, my heart broke at teh thought of never seeing my babies again. I spent a lot of time praying that the promise I had made to them would not be broken.

The following is MY recollection of my time spent in Iraq in support of Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom in Early 2003. It may not be the same memory of somone else in my unit, even if that person stood at my side during the same exact moment I describe in the following pages. This is just my account, my memories and my feelings put to paper. I have no intention of hurting anyone or angering anyone so if that happens, it's not intentional.

What makes us the people we grow up to be? Is it our parents, grandparents or the others who raise us? Is it the teachers who spent years showing uswhat we needed to know to make it in the world? Maybe it is the many friends who get us into trouble or more importantly, out of it! I think it may be a big mix of all this and more. I was suprised to find out that in my 30's I still has some changing to do, and that I learned I could be a very different person than I had originally believed myself to be.

I think the most true statement I have ever heard is that "WAR CHANGES PEOPLE!" The army changed me. Being deployed to another country changed me, but the most dramatic change in myself, my attitude, and my soul came about during the war. I didn't do anything heroic. I didn't save any lives in the heat of battle, and I wasn't wounded ( thank God) but the things I experienced made some changes in myself that otherwise would have never been brought about.

War is not fun to say the least. But I am thankful for having the opportunity to take part in such a historic event, and to know that like all my brothers and sisters in unform, I did my job to the best of my ability. I am honored to be able to pick up where so many fellow Americans left off, and to be able to look at myself in the mirror and say "JOB WELL DONE"

As a single mother of three, and enlisting at the ripe old age of 31, I was not the typical recruit. But I found that I was no different than those I served beside. We were ALL soldiers....The gender lines tend to get very blurred in the military, especialy in a combat situation! I really think the army has a third gender...male, female and soldier! I get asked a lot "what was it like to be a woman in the war?" I'm thinking....compared to what? Being a man in the war?" Well, here is my story.

WAITING FOR THE CALL
Waiting for the call to 'go' was hard on everyone's nerves. One day we would get word that we were about to go, then it would be pushed back a few weeks. Then it would be 'Ok we are leaving in a few days." It was hardest on the families I'm sure. The whole process of preparing to leave our lives and loved ones behind was both heart wrenching and thrilling! We were about to do what we had trained or whole military careers to do! There were some of us in Echo 5/52 who had barely even BEGUN military life! One guy, Private C, had just arrived to our battery from A.I.T.( Advanced Individual Training/military school) a few DAYS before we left for Iraq! 1Lt. A came to us AFTER we arrived in country! I can't imagine how rough it must have been for them! They ended up being a 2-man crew together, and doing one hell of a job, and we pulled them neatly into the web of our family.

Chris and I had been dating for a few months before the deployment but had kept it quiet since we were in the same battery, and he held platoon sergeant slot, and I was only a PFC. There were no hard and fast 'rules' about dating somone in the same unit since he wasnt MY platoon Sgt, but it was a 'grey' area, and we didn't want to rock the boat. The closer we got to deploying, we talked more and more about marriage, and knew this was what we wanted to do. Chris was the man for me from our very first date, and he knew he'd never love anyone but me. So we quietly married with his twin brother and sister in law as our witnesses.
We told our platoon seargents we were DATING but kept the marriage our secret! We didn't want to tell the commander and First Sergeant, but my Platoon Sgt took care of that for us. Ssg D ratted us out, saying it was in our best interest. ( oh whatever) so we were called into the commander's office and given a direct order NOT TO EVEN SPEAK to each other!! If we were caught so much as TALKING they threatened to move one of us to another unit no matter where we were located, and Chris would loose rank. One week later, Chris shipped out with our PATRIOT equpiment on the boat, for a 4 week trip across the world bound for Kuwait. The rest of the unit would follow 2 weeks later.

last week I delivered a box to a house. Mom answers the door, and hollers for her son to come here.
4 ish year old son runs up. Mom says
mom-Your package from daddy is here!!
son-My box from daddy?? All the way from Iraq???!!!??? ( screaming and jumping)
mom-yes!! ITS HERE!!! starts to hand son his box and I start to leave)
son tackles my legs and wraps his arms around me, hugging me, tight.
son-THANK YOU!! THANK YOU MAIL LADY!! THAAAAAANNNKKK YOOUUUU FOR GOING ALLLL THE WAY TO IRAQ TO GET MY BOX FROM MY DADDY!!!!!!
son grabs his box and runs off.
mom wipes her eyes and we just look at each other for a second. I tell her "you know he'll be home soon right?" she just nodded and wiped her eye again. and slowly shut the door, and whispered " thank you"
I felt semi stupid for sounding so trite. I just didnt know what else to say.
But I DID get a kick in the pants over me going alllll the way to iraq!!!
some days I just love my job!!

This has GOT to be the most insaine thing that has happened to me to date!
Yes it is worse than the naked people who answer the door, not even TRYING to hide the 'goods' ( both male and female).
More nutty than the peo'ple who scream at me ( yes SCREAM) that "mr occupant does NOT live here!! only the DOE' family does!!!" As I try to explain that THEY are the 'currant occupant that Pizza Hut is trying to send the coupons to....
More wild than the time I was actualy asked if I WORKED for the post office ( while sitting in my red white and blue mail truck with the big blue eagle on it, wearing my red white and blue uniform, putting mail in their mail box......
To begin this story: I walk up to the duplex to deliver a package that has to be signed for. I knock on the door and in a couple seconds it opens and there stand a toddler about 2-3 yrs old. He says:
boy: HIII tum on in!!!
me: HI! where is mommy?
boy: mommy is poopin' tum in lady!!
me: noooo, I need your mommy ok?
I wait a minute, thinking mommy must have heard me knock and is finishing up 'her buisiness' as quickly as she can.
Then the fun starts.
The boy decided he wants to run outside and 'go bye bye' he says..
boy: me go bye bye in you truck!!!
and races out the door, shoves past my legs and takes off for the street. I'm looking into the house for mom, and no luck. so I make a grab for him and miss. I take off after him and this kid is fast. AND I'm carrying this huge box( I dont THINK to just put it down I guess) I nab kid at edge of street by his shirt.
Me: lets go back inside and get mommy ok?
boy: NO WAY NO WAY!!!
ME: YES WAY!! mommy doesnt want you to run into the street, now come on baby, lets go back inside ok?
boy: noooo!! go byeee byeeee!!
and he does the noodle leg, flop like a fish onto the groud trick. I let go of his shirt so I dont strangle him or drop the box and he's off like a shot again for the street. ( this kid is GOOOD). once again Im chasing him and again juggeling this box that I can't freakin SEE over. All the while, half praying mom will get through pooping and come GET HER OFFSPRING and half praying she wont see me dragging him by his stretched out t-shirt up her sidewalk, screaming, and call 911 on me.
Ok so I nab boy wonder again, and I get his hand this time and I say
Me: ok lets go see if mommy is done pooping and I'll give you a mail man bracelet if you go back inside ok?
boy:why?
Me;because I said so
boy:I wana go in your truck.
Me: ok you can go inmy truck if mommy says yes. lets go ask her and put your shoes on. ( I didnt have 5 kids and not learn SOMETHING!!)
boy: OKAY LADY!! I GET SHOES!
he runs to the porch and slips on his flip flops and runs back to me. ( can you imagine me punching myself in the forehead and saying DOH!!)
ME: nope. I SAAIDDD you have to ask mommy
ok by now its been about 49 hours since I first knocked right? Im wondering where in the WORLD mommy is, WHY she hasnt come out, etc.
So I start ringing the doorbell. nada. I consider checking with the neighbors, but what if THEY are pedophiles and I dont know it, and they say "Oh we know him! well take him til his mom comes out! and then I go to hades for puting him in danger... oy.( ok motherly imagination.. but come on now, its a possibility)
I call my station for advice and the LINE IS BUSY!! am I in a horror film and I don't know it???
by now boy is back to jumping up and down ( I have him by the wrist now. I dont trust him as far as I can catch hm) yanking my arm out of the socket, yammering something I can't understand, other than IWANNA blah blah I WANNA blah blah. Im yelling in the open doorway Helloo!! helloo?? maam?? It's your mail lady!! I have a package for you and your son is outside and wont go back in!
I try to put him inside and shut the door and leave and he just opens the door NO PROBLEM. ( what happend to toddlers who cant manage doorknobs??) and he yells at me, all red in the face YOU STOP THAT LADY!!!
me: come on now, just STAY HOME! Tell mommy the mail lady was here. I have to go to work and you have to saty with mommy.
boy: NO WAY I GO IN YOUR TRUCK!!
Me: well you DIDNT ASK YOUR MOMMY so you have to stay ( ok so maybe I wasnt so stink'in smart after all)
boy: MOMMY ISSSS POOOOPIN.( little veins popping out on his sweatty forehead, hands in fists like he's about to go into cardiac arrest)
ME ; WEELLL GOOO GET HERRRR ( I can NOT believe I am arguing with a toddler about his mothers bathroom duties.
I am soooo close to calling the police, but what in the bleep will I TELL THEM??? ( hello officer? I have a kid here who's mom wont stop pooping....)
i KEEP trying to push him into the house and shut the door thinking 'can I run for the truck and drive off, quick enough , before he can make it to the street? and will he just wander back home?" ( like a puppy)
but the mom in me says um noooo thats sooo not safe.
FINALY mom shows up in the hallway and I almost pass out in relief. I say hi mom! I have been here afew min, and your son sure doesnt want to stay inside! I had to get him out of the street a few times while we waited for you! ( g iving her my brightest fake mail chick smile that says 'where the bleep WHERE you and come get this heathen and tell me THANK YOU or SOMETHING)
she doesnt crack a smile, all she says is 'do I gotta sign for that?'
I say yes mam.
she signs, grabs her box, yanks son in the house and slams door.
the end

Chris gave me my b-day gifts early since he's gonna be in the field on my b-day, so I took my new MP4 player with me to work yesterday! I had my earphones in, and was enjoying my tunes! I guess I got carried away, and didn't think about it, because I was in my truck, delivering curbside mail boxes. ( I've done this same embarrassing thing before while walking).
So there I was... creeping along in my truck, mail box to mail box, singing...
"oh where oh where can my BAYY BEEE BEEE?? THE LORD TOOK HER AWWAAAY FROM MEEEEE SHES GONE TO HEAVEN SO IVE GOT TO BE GOOOOOD, SO I CAN SEE MY BAAYYBBEEE WHEN I LEEEEEAAAAVE THIS WOORRRLLLLDD
finishing up with an even LOUDER chorus of
"WOOOOOOOAAAAAAAA- OOOOOHHHHOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHOOOOAAHHHH'SS"
that's when I look over and see several hispanic dudes taking a break from doing their lawn care work. They are all snickering,
I YANK out my ear phones, as my WOOOAAHHoooaaahhh's die off to a quiet murmer.
They BURST our laughing.
I stop my truck, get out and take a bow.
what else can a cool mail chick do?
They all politely applaud.
I drive away and keep delivering my mail like a good mail chick.
with only ONE ear phone in.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWdvxQuhSbg
in case you arent familiar with the song... it's a catchy tune.

Yesterday I was at a mobile home park delivering to a large bunch of the box units, when a cute little girl about 8 or 9 rides up on this little electric scooter.
She says HIII Mail lady!!!
I say HIII scooter girl!! I like your scooter! ( pink and purple scooter, pink and purple helmet and matching knee and elbow pads)
She says "Thank you for delivering all this mail to all of us! That must be a lot of hard work!"
I said well you are very welcome! I sure do like your good manners!
She says "yes mam! my mama beats it into me! bu byeeee!!"
whiiizzzzz she scoots off.

Hope you arent sick to death of my mail stories yet...
I delivered a box to a door today.
Mom opens the door and accepts the box, says thank you, and I hear a little girl say "PIZZA MOMMY??? PIZZA????
mom says no honey, its the mail lady. The little girl appears from behind her mom, and GLARES at me, and yells I NOT WANT NO MAIL!!! I WANT PIZZAAAAAA!!!! she then FLINGS herself face first onto the couch, covering her eyes with her hands, and is crying angrily. NOT just crying like 'oh im sad' but MADDDDD AS YOU KNOW WHAT. She looked upt at me and stuck her tounge out me!!!
I HAD to laugh, and THAT made her REALLY mad!!!!
her mom said she had NO IDEA what gave her the pizza idea, because they had NOT talked about ordering any dang pizza. I said well, sorry I got her all mad, usualy kids really like me.

~~~I was at a NBU ( neighborhood box unit.. you know, the big metal boxes where the whole block gets their mail) well it's right in front of a house where 3 littlel boys live. They always come get mail MAN bracelets, and usualy run at least ONE of my ankles over in their battery operated jeep. So today they are running around while mom cleans out the van. Oldest is about 9, then 6 then 3ish. 9 says to me
Hey, did you know my little brother can fit in that mailbox? ( pointing to the parcel locker where we put the boxes... about 2 ft by 2 ft)
I say 'ohhh reeeaalllyy???' and give him the eyebrow. " And HOW would you know THAT?"
he says (gulp) " is that illeagle"??
I say ( trying not to laugh) wellllll
he says " well you seeeeeee....."
by now mom is listening
" he was REAALLY bugging me, so I told him to see if he'd fit in there,
and
well
HE DID!"
ok I tried. I REALLY TRIED NOT TO LAUGH! but I lost it.
mom screetches MIIIIICHAAAEELLLLL!!!
9 continues " I even shut the door!!"
mom is now burying her face in the seat of the van ( she was picking up the trash on the floorboard) shaking her head back and forth. I THINK she was hiding her laughture.
3ish comes over and says WANNA SEEEE??? and starts to fold himself up into the parcel locker. I say NO NO NO!!! ( STILL laughing, and mom races over to drag all her heathen back indoors, asking me HOW MUCH IS POSTAGE ON CHILDREN????
I'll never look at those teeny weeny parcel lockers the same again! seriously, check one out next time you see one, then look at a four year old!!

Today I had a BUNCH of HUGE AND HEAVY boxes all going to one house. SEVEN of them in total, each weighing about 60 pounds. Plus one BIG duffle bag, that when on the ground, reached my armpit and probably had rocks or weights in it. THAT was impossible to lift. Luckily it had wheels, but the WHEELS BARLEY ROLLED it was so heavy! And stuffed SO FAT, it was nearly bursting at the seams!

ANYWAY, the asian lady opens the door after I drag the first round up her steep driveway ( I took the hand cart/dolly with me). I had to drag it on her lawn since she parked on the VERY EDGE of her driveway and left no room for me to get by with the big boxes and wide duffell.

THAT was like pulling an ox through mud.

So I get all of them up there, THREE trips.. and the heat index is like 102. Im sweating like MAD, and the lady says 'HO-KAY NOW YOU PUT DIS ONE AND DAT ONE IN DAH BACK ROOM ON DEE TOP SHEFF.

I start laughing at her.

she says
WHAT SO FUNNY?

I say "are you serious?"
she says WHAT MEAN SIL-EE-US" YOU HULLY UP AND TAKE DOZE DER ADN PUT DEM UP AND DEN TAKE DEM DER AND DAY GO UP ON DEE TOP SHEF OF THE FRONT BEDROOM CLOSET.

she was TOTALY serious.

I told her "Mam We are not allowed to enter any residences for any reason. I'm sorry."

She YELLS at me "WELL I CAN NOT PICK DEES UP !! DAY ARE HEEEAAVVYY!!"

HELLOO!! WHO THE HELL IS SHEE TELLING??? but Im supposed to drag them in her house and put them on TOP SHELVES IN SEPERATE ROOMS? omg somone slap her. QUICK!

I just shake my head and walk away as she screams "YOU COME BACK HEEUHHH!! YOU NOT LEAVE DIS ON MY FRONT DOAH!! WHO WILL BE PUTTING DIS AWAY???"

( hell if I know you hatefull old bitch. How about a THANK YOU??)

And on I went with my day.

BUT I DID get to stand in a sprinkler later, and near the end of my day I got an ICE COLD BOTTLE OF WATER FROM ANOTHER REALLY COOL CUSTOMER!!
so there ARE nice ones out there!! : )

Most days the 4 legg-ed fur people are the best part of my mail routes. SERIOUSLY. They don't bitch ( much), and I have a lot of fun naming them for what they do or don't do.

I had 'grumpy's' route for the past 8 days. TWELVE MILES A DAY of walking in this godforsaken humidity and heat. So I HAVE to entertain myself somehow so I dont go nuts. I have my favorites along this route. First there is "Not" Hes a big ole yellow lab. I call him "Not" because he's NOT nice, NOT friendly, and NOT the kind of dog who I can nicely feed a treat I carry in my mail chick satchel. when I walk past his yard he acts like he wants to gobble me up entirely WHOLE. I mean the whole ears laid back, showing all his sharp teeth type thing. WELL I met his owner at Pizza Hut last week where we all meet for lunch every Thursday. Turns out he used to be a letter carrier too! So Mr. R comes out of the house 3 days ago and talks to me and "Not" goes to doing the 'Im going to eat you alive and screaming" bark thing, and he tells him "HUNTER BE QUIET" and 'Not' hushes right up. I have to laugh because, well see, Hunter is my son's name!
ANYWAY, as I walk down the sidewalk which boarders "Hunters" fence, we have a chat. I tell him, "look, we have to be friends now since me and your dad are fellow carriers and all, but ESPECIALY since you have a cool name right?" and he responds by only acting as if he'd eat HALF of me. So I toss him a treat and he does this neat catch-it-in-mid-air-trick.
'cooooollll' I tell him.
so TODAY I walk up and he's just laying in the shade. I ask him if he's sick. He just gets up. and meets me at the fence. he stands up and hags his paws over the top and hes as tall as me. I think he could easily just leeeeaan over and nibble on me pretty easily if he wanted so I stay back. I tell him hi and he gives me a half hearted barking thing that says he'd only gnaw my leg off at the knee so I toss him a treat and he does the catch in the air thing again. I tell him he's a prettty dang cool dog, if he'd just stop the madness, and he actualy DID. He went and laid back down in the shade! Maybe it was progresss. Maybe he knew that I had talked to his dad.
maybe it was just too hot to try to eat a mail chick.

2 streets over I have a nest of baby birds in a mail box! Well I don't, but a mama bird does, and I've been watching them for this past week! First they were eggs ( obviously) then right after I noticed the nest they hatched!!! Talk about UGLY!!! bald, big head-ed things, but still, they are sorta too ugly NOT to be cute!! I kept putting the mail on one side of the mailbox, hoping the owners had noticed the babies, but I kept worrying that they wouldnt, and what if they just stuffed some heavy mail in and smooshed them? I mean they were only the size of an average goldfish! So I put a little note on the outside of the mailbox that read:
"CAREFUL!! BABY BIRDS INSIDE!!" ( and added a happy face so they wouldnt think I was being bossy. I mean it IS their mailbox after all. ) I was kind of worried that they might be the type of people who would think GROSS!!! BIRDS CAN CARRY LICE!! and toss them out and kill them. So I was stressing over 'my babies'

so the next day, I walk up to the house, and they had hung a wal mart bag from the botttom of the mail box with a BIG typed note that read PLEAS PUT ALL MAIL IN THE BAG! WE HAVE A FAMILY OF BABY BIRDS WHO HAVE TAKEN UP RESIDENCE IN OUR MAIL BOX! I did a litttle happy dance right there in the drive way!! Then I open the lid to say hi and mama bird does a dive out of the box and almost takes out my eyeball.
niiiice.

As of today they are 1 week old, and getting some fuzz. Today was my last day on Grumpy's route. Im sorta sad to leave my babies. : ( I left him a note on his case to be careful of the eye stabbing bird, and to be nice to the babies. Hell make fun of me, but I make fun of all of them too so were even.

tomorrow I have the route where a dog named 'short bus' lives. and no, thats NOT the name I gave him. but it IS a really cool name isnt it!

Ive decided to give all my working pals nicknames to save their identities and keep me from getting sued.

I always sorta think of us as "snow white and her 8 dwarfs"... 'they are'..

Grumpy'-who once got attacked by a dog and I called 911 when he staggered into the station.He got the name becaus he IS a real grump. He can pitch a real fit now and then. But we get along pretty well.

'Doc'- who is about to retire and we don't much like each other but we pretend to for the sake of whatever. Sometimes he gets on my LAST nerve. He thinks he knows everything about everything and everyone else is stupid.

'Horney'- who is my friend, but an old dude who is always and forever asking me to find him a girlfriend, or did my sister get a divorce yet? He's a funny dude.

'Sneezy'- He has bad allergies and cheats on his wife just F.Y.I. We see eye to eye about work and he knows how I feel about his off duty activities... One day he'll die a slow and painful death and I'll be saying "I told you soooo"

'Happy'-Hes not any happier than the rest of us, but he doesnt curse so he got that dwarf name just for kicks. He's hispanic but I couldnt think of any hispanic dwarfs.

'dopey'-he's not stupid, hes just quiet and shy. He never says much ( the real dopey NEVER talked actualy..)so there was a LITTLE comparison thing goin on there.

"Largely" He's a rather fluffly old dude with the funniest sense of humer ever! He totaly cracks me up! He's got a reallyy off beat, sarcastic, dirty sort of humor so that's why he didn't end up as the happy dwarf. It just wasnt right.

Then of course that leaves ME AS SNOW WHITE so stop scratching your head saying 'umm now whooooo is snow white??????'

GIVE ME A DAMN BREAK IT'S MYYYY BLOG!
ANYWAY

now you'll know who I'm talking about in the future when I talk crap or tell stories about my co-workers. hahahhehehehhohohoh

There's this one older lady on a route I'll call Mrs. T. She's the sweetest thing EVER! She has a little poodle named 'Taffey' who I feed a dog treat every day I do that route. If Taffey isnt outside, or I dont have a pkg to deliver, I leave the treat on the porch for her.

Well the other day, Mrs. T came to the door just crying her eyes out. of course I asked her what was wrong, and she told me her daughter had been taking care of all her bills for the past year. She just found out her daughter had not been paying ANY of them! Not her mortgage, her insurance, her car payment NOTHING! she'd changed all the bills to come to another address so she didnt even know they were about to reposess her car and forclose on her house until her daughter came over and threw a bunch of bills at her and said she wasn't going to deal with is any more.

Poor Mrs. T sobbed as she asked me 'What do I do?? I dont know how to pay bills! I dont know what to do to keep my car and my house! I'm so mad at my daughter! How could she do this to me! She's been stealing all my money for a year or more!

So I told her to find a lawyer in the phone book, ask for a free consultation, and take all her bills to him. She'd already taken her daughter off her bank account, so that was good at least. My heart just hurt so much for her.

As we stood there talking, she calmed down a little and I fed Taffey another treat. She told me 'Becky you know you show me more kindness every day you stop by here and ask me how I'm doing then listen to me when I answer you, than my own daughter does. I just smiled and told her that lots of people are nice, and her daughter is probably just in a bad place in her life right now, and one day she'd come around.

Then Mrs. T asked me how she could change her will. She said she was so upset with her daughter she wasnt sure she could ever forgive her, and could that lawyer she found help her change her will? I assured he any lawyer could do that. She said she wanted her grandkids to get everything rather than her daughter.

Then she blew me away.
No she didnt offer to leave me her wealth. She asked me something I didn not expect though...
She said 'Becky, If I pass on before my baby Taffey does, would you consider taking her to live with you? She loves y ou so much! She can hear your mail truck comming and she knows whether or not it's you or that other mail man! My heart could rest easy if I knew my baby had a loving home to go to if I couldnt be here. None of my family even LIKES her! I dont know WHAT my daughter would do with her.. Will you promise me to take her???

WOOOWWW talk about humbeling me.

Of course I told her yes, and I gave her my address and phone number 'just in case'

then I thought evil thoughts to her wicked-wicked daughter all day long.

We went to see the new Indiana Jones movie this past weekend. I was semi disapointed in it.
I mean Harrison baby is STILL HOT-HOT-HOOOOT!!! ( I sang that last 'hot' in high oprera voice just f.y.i.) But this last Indy movie was just 'eh' for me. The beginning drug, the fight scenes were the same old same old and then they brought in freaking ALIENS???? oh come ON NOW!!

It made me feel OOOOLLLDD!! I know it's been um what? about TWENTY FIVE YEARS since his last Indiana Jones movie? And I could almost HEAR the sighs of the young chicks when that young boy ( his son) came on screne. I think it was set up for HIM to 'steal the show' and that made me sad. ( maybe THAT was what made me feel old???) Or maybe it was when Indy baby got married in the end? HEY STEPHEN SPIELBURG YOU SHOULD KNOWWWW THE SEXY ARCHAEOLOGIST NEEEVER SETTLES DOWN AND GETS MARRIED!!! ( sigh)

anyway, for a sixty something dude, he can still make my heart go pitter-pat, but the best part?? My hubby took me to see him, and THAT made little hearts come out of my eyes!!( or was that the 4 candy bars I snuck into the theater in my purse??)

Today when I delivered mail all stin'kin day in the heat I wondered HOW IN THE HELL do some people manage to make in through life being so stupid, hateful, or just plain ignorant???

One woman walked up to me as I was putting mail in the big ole neighborhood box unit ( you know... those big boxes that hold about 20 individual mail boxes that each family has their own key to right?) well she says HEY GIVE ME MY MAIL WILL YA? ( never tells me her name or address, not a "Hi how are you? If your not BUSY may I interrupt you... etc") well I just smile my charming mail chick smile and say...

What's your address Ma'm? she snarls THAT'S NONE OF YOUR EFFIN' BUISINESS!! ( okaaayyy)

Maybe the heat makes me cranky... But I SWEAR the cold does. REALLY I am a very sweet person in the summer. But some days it just seems that all the nutlogs just come out in DROVES!!! Or maybe they all just tend to annoy me on the same day. I'm not sure.

On my way to lunch a man was in his car to the left of me which put him on my passenger side. That window of my truck was rolled up. He was trying to yell at me OVER HIS BLARING THUMPING STEREO, and across his passenger seat, across a lane of traffic, through my closed window, across my truck....( Becky does eyeball roll) I know he's trying to get my attention because he starts waving at me so I cheerfuly ( ok smart-ass-ed-ly) wave back. BUT then he has to go and flip me off. OK THAT was un nessesary.
AND RUDE.
jeez.
Then he squeals his tires and apparently that is supposed to impress me. Or something. Hell, he probably wanted me to give him his dang mail.

After an 11 hour day I was whooped. Beat down. Wore clear out. Hot. Sweaty. Probably smelly too.

I came home and took a 20 min cold shower, at a snickers, drank a pepsi and felt mucho bettero.