Digging in the Dirt

Andrew loves to dig around in dirt of any sort. Mud works just fine for him, too. I have no idea what about dirt fascinates any child so much. Is it the texture? The sense of buried treasure when a rock or something a little more animate is unearthed? The way it changes the color of the skin and turns white fingernails black? The strange taste of it?

One of his favorite things to do at my mother's house is to help her in the garden. And I'm not looking forward to the day when we finally rake out the remaining piles of rock in our backyard and take away his fun rockslides (that become mudslides after a rain).

Yesterday, while Mark was grilling up dinner and chatting with Brad (D'oh! I think I've completely neglected to mention on the blog that my brother moved to one of the Phoenix suburbs a few weeks ago. It's nice to have him so close and indulge in sibling relationship that lets us talk face to face regularly.), Andrew found a patch of dirt in the backyard and just started digging with his fingers. At first, I think he was trying to pry loose some small rocks. Then it became some sort of mission. The ground was packed too hard for him to dig very deep, so he settled on digging a shallow ditch over a large area, tossing the loose dirt over his shoulder to varying degrees of success. A couple of times, he laid down in his ditch. Or tried to. Cleaning his hands for dinner was quite a task.

I don't mind the dirty clothes and child. One day, when his clothes might actually fit for more than a few months, I might. But it's amazing to watch him dig. He's so determined, so intent. There's a purpose to clawing away at the ground for him. I just have no idea what it is.

Five Generations in One Room

I was going to write tonight. Honestly. Then the fracking car accident on Tuesday kept me up way past my bedtime. Then my brother called late last night and kept me up past my bedtime (of all the reasons to lose sleep, this comes in second to comforting Drew and taking care of him at night, meaning I don't mind). Then Northwest cancelled our later in the morning flight for one leaving at 7:30 tomorrow. And we live an hour away. And DIA is not an airport to chance getting there only an hour before your flight. Do the math. I will be crashing as soon as we are packed tonight.

Where are we going? Grand Forks, North Dakota. Drew will meet his great-great-grandmother and renew his acquaintances with his great-grandmother and his grandmother. He will dazzle them with his ability to smile at the least provocation, to babble excitedly at his pacifier, to grab his toes and roll onto his side, to roll onto his tummy, and to sit up all on his own for long periods of time. And we all get to watch as he experiences a swimming pool for the first time. Stretch-marked Momma will be covered from shoulders to knees and dangling her feet in the pool. (Actually, I really don't care too much what a bathing suit would reveal about my postpartum bod; I just don't feel like trying to squeeze the time and money in to buy a suit that I won't use again before I have lost the last bit of my pregnancy weight. Lemme clarify: I don't care what a one-piece bathing suit would reveal. Ain't no way in hell I'll be wearing a two-piece for a bit.)

Watch for fun pictures on Tuesday.

Happy Independence Day!

I'm heading out for a big family reunion in Chicago. It'll be hot, humid, and I'll be six and a half months pregnant. And there was much rejoicing.

Seriously, we're gathering to celebrate my grandparents' 50th Anniversary. I'm carrying their first great-grandchild and my aunt is carrying their eleventh grandchild. There will lots of belly-patting. This will also be the first time I've seen my brother since he came back from Iraq in April. All in all, it's shaping up to be an awesome weekend.

So be safe whether you're traveling or partying at home. Let's remember the positives of the holiday and see if that can get us to learn a few things about how to make our country's present and future better.

Suddenly Pregnant, My Brother the Bugler & Other Stories

It's amazing how many people have commented on my Big Fat Belly this week now that I've started wearing maternity tops. I haven't suddenly gained a pregnant belly, but that's what everyone seems to think. It's probably just a matter of perspective. My belly has reached the right proportions that the eye can't just chalk it up to a little extra chunkiness, there has to be a kid growing in there. There are a few people I haven't managed to tell in the area, and I'm sadistically looking forward to seeing them at some point this summer now that I'm showing. I like the sort of life changes that you see before you hear about them, the positive ones, anyway.

In other pregnancy news, Andrew let me sleep through the night last night. Of course, it's because he wanted me to sleep for a good three more hours, but still. I fell asleep around midnight and woke up just before six with the usual "gotta pee, gotta eat" urge I usually wake up to a 3 AM or so. Too bad today was a work day, though, otherwise I would've fallen back into bed. Andrew's still miffed about me not getting more sleep as he's been kicking at me regularly this morning.

And with no seque, my mom told me about my brother's experience as part of a Marine color guard. Skipping past my confusion because I thought he had officially left the Corps and wasn't in the Reserves or anything that would require him to be in a color guard, I found out that my brother can bugle. Probably not as well as the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B, but that's not gonna stop me from calling Brad that when I talk to him next. Gotta hand it to those Marines: they don't miss a thing in training, especially when it comes to color guards.

Rough Essay

Holly's doing a little contest to give away her ARCs of Talyn. I remember reading the first chapter or so of this when she posted them special at Forward Motion sometime last year or perhaps even the year before (isn't the cover art beautiful?). I pre-ordered my copy of this book last night, alongwith Holly's Last Girl Dancing and the new Harry Potter. (I also ordered the last Tori Amos album I need to complete my collection; no one keeps Strange Little Girls in stock.)

Anyway, when Holly posted the contest, I knew I had to enter. Not because I had to have the ARCs, which would be cool, but because of the topic of the essay contest: rediscovering honor. I've known since Thanksgiving that I have to write at least a short story about my brother's experiences in Iraq. I've also known since then that I'm nowhere near the kind of writer I need to be to do that story justice. But I've also known that I can't just leave the story unwritten. So here's the essay I entered into the contest.

----

I haven't seen my brother since he came back from Iraq the second time. I'll have a chance to give him the fierce hug that's been building at our family reunion in July, but until then all I have is a picture of him receiving his Purple Heart.

He's one of only a few Marines in uniform. The rest are standing in formation, at attention in the grass behind him. There's an SUV, a couple of civilians, and a trashcan cluttering up the background. My brother has the medal pinned to his chest, and he's shaking someone's hand.

But it's his eyes that I see right away whenever I look at this picture. I see him watching an improvised explosive device fling two of his men from the truck and send shrapnel into the driver. I see him fighting to save the life of the young man who didn't make it. I see him hearing the news that the two other men in the truck were honorably discharged, one without a foot, one with severe damage to his arms. I see him waking up suddenly under the bridge his company protected, thinking it was a bad dream but the bandage on his own arm telling him differently.

I see honor. I see its price. And I know I will never look at a Purple Heart without the same mix of pride, despair, anger, and relief that I feel right now.

----

There are a couple of details I wasn't able to put in the essay due to the 250-word limit. But that's only part of the reason why this little essay is just a glimmer of a beginning for the story I want to write about my brother. Love ya, Baby Bro.

Good Stuff

I was so absorbed in my little "woe-is-me" tirade on Sunday that I neglected to mention the big, awesome news from last week. My brother is back from Iraq, safe and sound in the good ol' US of A. Of course I can't see the pipsqueak until he has time to drive up here in May. But he's back, and he'll be out of the Marines by the end of the week, maybe even done with Reservist duty. Big Sis is very happy. About that, anyway.

I actually had a somewhat normal morning, excluding the fact that it started at 4AM. But my stomach seemed almost pre-pregnancy stable. The "almost" reared its head when I tried to eat a nice bagel, egg & cheese sandwich Mark whipped up for me. The concept of such a breakfast sounded good when I asked Mark to make it for me. The concept started losing its appeal as soon as it was placed in front of me. I took a test bite and my stomach advised me that taking another bite would be most unwise. So Mark got a spiffy little breakfast instead. But at least there was no bucket hugging this morning. (And I've decided that the bucket's name is Earl Chunks.) And I also found a blog that made me realize things could be a lot worse. This poor woman. She seems to have the support network she needs to get through this, and she doesn't have to be anywhere for 40hours a week for that silly money stuff. But I had a brief glimpse of what she must be suffering on Saturday when I couldn't get anything to stay down until I finally passed out from exhaustion and gave my stomach time to sort itself out. If every day of the past 14 weeks had been like Saturday morning, I would be making appointments for a vasectomy and a tubal ligation the day after I delivered.

I'm so glad my body is behaving today. I was just so tired of it all last night that I cried for a good ten minutes. I needed today to be a good day. Who knows what kind of day tomorrow will be, but at least today is good. At the moment. :)

Dreams for 2005

I've got a longer post in the works about my specific goals for 2005, but it needs some extra time to rattle around in my head. So until then, I've got some dreams that I'd love to see come true this year.

First, the dream of Professional Writing Success. This can take the form of either winning a writing contest, getting an agent, or getting a book contract. Or all three. Though I might wonder what the flipside of all that good luck in one year might be...

Second, the dream of Better Employment. This can take the form of a new job for me, improved conditions at the current job, or Mark finishing up his research in record time and landing a perfect job in Tucson. Then we can start looking for a house and stuff.

Third, the dream of Time Travel, of sorts. All I really want to do for this dream is to make tomorrow June so my brother will be home and out of Iraq for good.

Those are the big dreams. I'm sure I can think of more, like perfect health for all my family and friends, better employment for them as well, financial security, etc, etc. But those three jumped out at me as I wrote, so posted they be.

Lazy Holiday

Spent most of the weekend staring at the TV in some fashion or another. Watched a lot of Simpsons (we'll be picking up Season 5--one of Mark's favorites--this weekend when we do our Costco shopping as they have the best price), played video games. Our big accomplishment of the weekend was cooking the big turkey meal. Oh, and we did the laundry. And I guess you can count a quick trip up to the local gambling town (Blackhawk; and we broke even).

Mark did get me a (much more affordable) copy of that Amy Brown book I was drooling about before. My father's package didn't arrive before Saturday, so we'll get to celebrate Christmas again sometime this week. And Sheila decided to do something very Santa-like and give galleys of her March 2005 vampire book to everyone who entered a recent drawing. Have I mentioned lately how much I adore this woman? :) Go read her books!

My brother was able to call my mom for a few quick minutes on Christmas Eve. He was pretty excited that everyone in his platoon (or was it the entire battallion?) got two beers for Christmas. And he's apparently going to be moved from a field assignment to an actual base assignment sometime early next year. This means he gets to stay in an actual barracks rather than curling up in a sleeping bag under a tent or hanging out in a tent. And, wonder of wonders, he'll be bunked with only one other soldier and they will have their own shower. He's looking forward to that.

So, all in all, a great, relaxing holiday. A belated Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Happy New Year!

Best Christmas Gift EVER

It's nice to be crying happy tears for once. To see my brother's Christmas Video Greeting, click here* and select the "Hazell" link under the Golf column. Requires Windows Media Player. I'm so happy that technology has made this possible, and I will be playing this ALL DAY LONG today, tomorrow, and Saturday for sure.

*After a brief time up so family and friends could see it, I've taken the link down just in case anyone might click there with nefarious intentions.

Updated link: Click here

Tribute

A very touching montage of what our soldiers are doing in Iraq. You'll need flash, and be sure to turn your volume up to hear the music that accompanies.

Thankful

Yesterday was going well until my mother called at noon. She had enough time to say, "Brad took some shrapnel. He's OK. There was an explosion." Then my cell phone decided it would be a nice time to drop the connection. In the minute or so it took before we connected again, I felt numb and listed all the ways we could drop everything and fly to wherever my brother was, if he had been medivacked out of Iraq. Turns out that his wound is so minor that he didn't need even a single stitch. The three other Marines in the vehicle weren't as fortunate.

Yesterday was going well until my mother called at noon. An improvised explosive device went off to the left of my brother's vehicle during a patrol somewhere in what has been oh-so-comfortingly called the "triangle of death". The driver was bleeding, and the two men in the back were ejected from the vehicle. While the rest of the convoy laid down cover fire and called in the medics, my brother the sargeant had to attend to his wounded men. He got them all to safety and started trying to save the life of one who was severely injured. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough for that Marine.

Yesterday was going well until my mother called at noon. As she told me what had happened, an image kept playing over and over in my mind. I pictured a woman busying about the kitchen, preparing a nice turkey and all the fixings for a family gathering when her doorbell rings. She hurries to answer it, thinking it must be someone with a pumpkin pie. Instead she opens the door to uniformed men with horrible news. I fought hard to grieve for her loss and still be thankful that my brother was alive and relatively unscathed. It made for a rough day.

My thanksgiving holiday was hell until my brother called at 5AM this morning. That's when I found out that the shrapnel was the size of a nickel and had nicked his tricep. He's on R&R with his portable DVD player and the copy of "50 First Dates" I sent him for his birthday back in October. This will be the first time he's been able to see the movie. And, yes, he will be nominated for a purple heart now, an honor I would've been more than happy my brother never received.

I am thankful that my brother is surrounded by good men who know that he's going to need some help through the aftermath. I am thankful that my mother was in the company of good friends when she found out. I am thankful that my father was in the company of my stepmother's family when he found out. I am thankful that I was in Mark's embrace all day yesterday. I am thankful my brother was able to call me this morning and tell me himself that he was OK. I am thankful that yesterday is over and today is another day.

Promises, Promises

I'm 0 for 2 this month. I haven't been doing what I wanted to with the blog, and I'm tanking miserably with NaNoWriMo. I'm hoping to change that this weekend. I don't want to make any promises, though. I've got this wierd trick where I turn fun things into a burden in my life with deadlines and promises, and I want to stop doing that. Not that I don't have good excuses for the lapse in blogging and writing. It's hard to blog at work when your cube walls have windows and you're not allowed to use a privacy screen on your computer. I really don't like all of my coworkers being able to see what I'm blogging just by walking by my cube. I would use my lunch hour to do that, but I'm trying to make that a time just for writing or keeping up with my email (another arena in which I'm dropping the ball). As for the writing, I had a major breakthrough this week. I struggle with a regular writing schedule because I have an issue with conflict. I prefer to avoid it. And seeing as how a novel needs conflict and tension in order to do anything.... This is why my main characters end up being passive. That way they're not doing anything thing about the conflict really. Everyone else is getting things done around them. This is a problem. One that I'm fixing, but a problem all the same. I though that by starting my current WIP with my MC decking some jerk in a bar would fix the passive issue. But no, three chapters in and she goes from that active response to passivity. *sigh*

So that's the status of things. I hope this weekend and next to do much to resolve this issues, but who knows. Part of me suspects that as long as my Baby Bro is over in Iraq dealing with real, awful conflict that I'm going to continue my tendency of conflict avoidance and passive characters.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY BRO!

My brother is celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday in Iraq (or, rather, he celebrated it already, seeing as how it's now tomorrow over there). I sent him a cheesy Halloween card last week to let him know that his birthday package was coming. I just have to develop some film and send it off. I might hold off on that film and include that in his Christmas package, seeing as how I have to mail that by Nov 13 in order to make sure he gets it by Christmas. Better send off the Birthday gift now so he can get it by Turkey Day. Maybe. Included in the package will be some of his beloved Hot Tamales and an autographed copy of Trading in Danger by Elizabeth Moon, a very lovely lady I met this weekend. She signed it to him, using his rank, and indicated her own years of Corps service. Brad may not like the book (his reading tastes seem to vary frequently, when he even feels like reading), but I know he'll appreciate the sentiment. And we're also including a copy of "50 First Dates" that we found for a nice price at Costco. Turns out that Brad was able to buy one of those portable DVD players and bring it with him. That's a good Birthday package. I'll send that tomorrow on my lunch break.

As for his Christmas present, it just got a whole lot better. My company is putting together two care packages: one for Brad, and one for another employee's son. So now my mom and I need to put our heads together and come up with a good list of things that my coworkers can toss in there for him and his buddies. This makes me feel a little better after having missed his phone call last week. I do have his voice on my answering machine to replay and feel all those sisterly emotions when I need to, though. I'm going to lose it if some tech snafu gets rid of that one.

Scary Thought o' the Day

My brother isn't allowed to tell anyone where he will be headed in Iraq because that can lead to an "electronic trail" that the nasty terrorists can find and plan for a nasty welcoming party. On some level, it's intuitive to keep locations a secret--or it's at least intuitive to do so during a war, but we're not at war anymore, so I'm all sorts of confused. Eventually we'll be able to know where he is in Iraq, but just not until he's there. What scares me is that terrorists are either paying attention to my email, blog, and/or cell phones for juicy morsels of this nature. Or perhaps they have some kind of "google" program for finding such information in those various media. At any rate, this latest tidbit from the military does nothing to make me feel better about where my brother is going to be spending the next 6 months or so of his life. Again.

Another Month Already?!?!?

Holy Cow, tomorrow begins the month of June. The month of summer, the month of my birthday, the month of our Halfiversary (Mark and I will have been together for three and a half years), the month where warm weather mostly decides to settle into Colorado and give up the strange 80s one week, 50s the next see-sawing of spring and fall. And let's hope that June also becomes the month in which I at last see the end of Unemployment.

So, catching-up. I didn't get the job I was really excited about; my brother's doing great and will be in Iraq in August after a couple months of training; my writing's in a strange "holding pattern" that I'm trying to break out of; don't see the movie "Troy" if you harbor any appreciation for the actual Trojan War mythology; do see "Van Helsing" because Hugh Jackman kicks just as much ass in a trenchcoat and hat as he does in that pleather-ish "X-men" outfit (also see it because it's overall a fun flick).

Now for the details; don't go on a week-long trip the week before your significant other is set to go on a week-long trip of his own.

The interview did indeed go very well. And I suppose I should be impressed that I even got the interview considering the two other candidates had PhD's and at least five years more University level instruction experience on me. Still, it would've been nice to have gotten that job. True, I would've had to face a decent amount of demons from my past to enjoy the experience and get the most out of it, but I don't like the idea of letting those demons linger much longer.

But there's an upside. I got a call from a company I had previously applied to with Kelly Scientific. They wanted a phone interview for a Technical Writer position. I obliged them on Thursday, at which point I discovered that they didn't have the resume I submitted through Kelly Scientific. No, they had my resume from Monster.com, the one I had fashioned in the hopes of finding an entry-level administrative assistant position with a biotech/pharmaceutical company. This same resume is so horridly set up due to it just being sloppily transferred from an MS Word document to the Monster format. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the worst of what I've got out there in "Please Hire Me" Land. And they wanted to interview me. And after the phone interview, they wanted to interview me on-site. I'm extremely jazzed about this job, and I'm also fairly confident in my chances of landing it (barring, of course, the appearance of another couple of PhDs and their hoity-toity five years plus of experience). The only problem is that the woman who interviewed me hasn't emailed me or called me about setting up an interview time and she's gone this week to the same conference Mark is abandoning me for. I'll probably give him a copy of my best resume to bring with him on the off-chance he bumps into her.

The week with my brother was a good one. We got to chat a bit about his previous experience in Iraq and his combat training in general. My mother didn't appreciate it too much, but it made me feel oddly comforted. I don't like that my brother's going back to Iraq. I don't like that they're going to give him a gun again and expect him to use it. I don't like that he will use it. But at least I have confidence in his ability to deal with the situation. And that goes a long way toward settling my nerves. It does nothing to change the fact that I'm going to kick his ass for a month straight when he comes back for putting me through this again.

The writing.... That's a topic for another post.

The movies were fun. And had I known that "Troy" was only called that because it served as a backdrop for some good dramatic representations of the lives of Hector and Achilles, I probably would've enjoyed the movie more. I think the fact that the whole Helen-Paris story was relegated to a thin subplot should tell you a lot about the historical accuracy of the flick. Also that the last lines as given by Odysseus were "If they remember my name, let them remember that I walked with giants. That I knew Achilles. That I knew Hector" (or somesuch). I mean, come on. People are lucky if they remember that the whole reason Odysseus is at sea in the first place is because he's starting his voyage home from the Trojan War. Don't even get me started about how they decided to end the damn movie. It should be explanation enough that I would have to provide a spoiler warning for those who know the history. The only reason to see this movie is to watch Achilles fight. Whoever choreographed it did a fantastic job.

And the last thing is Mark being out of town as of tomorrow. That's another post as well. Suffice to say, I'll be happy when this week's over.

And Now For The Bad News

No, the interview went great. I'll be hearing the Verdict next week. The bad news is that my brother is going back to Iraq. You might be confused, seeing as how my brother got out of the Marine Corps in November, and also seeing as how his reserve unit was set to go to Okinawa this year. Well, my brother, in all his Marine Corps honor, bravery, etc glory was asked to volunteer to reactivate and go back to Iraq, should the Corps need him. Brad said yes a couple months ago, Corps said, "we need you," a couple days ago.

Here's the one really good thing about being unemployed: I'm able to drop everything and fly out to Arizona next week so I can chill with my brother before he starts the training and shipping out process.

Let's hope this is the only bad news for a while. It'll keep me occupied for quite some time.

The Lazy Life?

Yesterday was my first day contributing to the unemployment numbers that have given Bush and Kerry yet another thing to squabble over for the next few months. It didn't seem like it. I went down near where I used to teach for an interview of sorts. So the Kelly Services temp agency has a scientific division, and they wanted to talk with me about a job opportunity with another company. They sent my resume on yesterday, and I was told I'd likely hear back about an interview with the company today or Monday. The woman I spoke with yesterday even mentioned something about starting work as early as Wednesday if they decided to hire me. This could be a quick stint as an unemployed citizen. Which is only bad in that I won't have a nice chunk of time to spend finishing up my HD revisions and such.

Yesterday also didn't feel like my first day of laid-offishness because I spent the bulk of the afternoon sobbing. I love my brother so much that it hurts me something fierce whenever I have to hear about things not going well in his life (which, unfortunately, happens much more often than anyone should have to deal with). It also hurts because Brad only wants to talk and have me listen, nothing more. I've been a scientist since I first took a chemistry class in high school, and I've been a puzzle-solver since my diaper days. It often takes more than I have within me to just shut up and hear about the things my Baby Bro has to put up with. (Not the least of which is the fact that his reserve unit's been activated and he'll be sending the second half of this year in Okinawa. If North Korea decides to mess him and the other troops over there, I think I might seriously start considering a career as a political assassin. Or at least have a grand time writing about such a person.) So our chat yesterday drained me and angered him and upset me to the point of wracking sobs and wails. I love puffy eyes, really I do.

So today will be my first day where it feels like I'm really unemployed. I just finished filing for unemployment bennies. I'm still in my pajamas, and I'm ready to be a couch potato. But I can't be idle for more than a half hour before I go mad, so I'm going to make today "Clean the House" day. Tomorrow I'll start the writing schedule and general "this is what I'll do with my life until I'm employed" schedule. That sort of thing is easier for me to do when I have a clean environment to do it in.

Off I go to be a Domestic Goddess. I might also try out the cliche of barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen were it not for the facts that I am not pregnant and my feet are really, really cold. Maybe another time.

Baby Bro

The brother has come and gone, a very whirlwind visit. And I still haven't caught up on the sleep I've been needing since last week. Is it Saturday yet?

Brad is now on his way to Oklahoma to do the same "hiandgoodbye" stop at Dad's. Brad had to call Dad last night to make sure the parental unit was aware of the actual dates of this visit. Funny the things we miss in a crazy cross-country trek. We all had fun chatting over dinner, hanging out in the hot tub (Mark and I were very pleased to learn that the pool would be kept open year-round), and then nibbling on snacks while watching "Monsters Inc." Well, Mark and Brad watched it. I passed out about ten minutes or so in. And I also slept so soundly last night that I didn't notice Mark having another one of his fun sleepwalking episodes and ripping off the covers and then replacing them. But then I had to get up at 5 again to make Brad some breakfast (aren't I a good sister and hostess?) and see him off.

I wish he had more time to hang around. He's been so busy these past four years, and that's right about when he started to get to be cool. :) No, Brad and I were getting over our growing pains at least six years ago, but it was like having a new friend and then not being able to chat for years. And now he's gone off and found himself a wonderful fiancee, so there's even less time I'll get to hang out with him. Silly brother, he's not supposed to grow up until I say so. And then he's got to do it on my terms.

Well, at least we'll get to see each other again for Thanksgiving. And then next summer for his wedding. Here's to hoping Mark and I can figure out a way to swing by the East Coast and visit all those relative types out there more often.

You Know Your Brother's Insane...

When the Marine Corps gives him the following commendation.

Superior performance of his duties while serving as platoon scout team leader, company C, 1st Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, 1st Marine Division, on 17 April, in support of operation Iraqi Freedom. While acting as part of a mounted patrol in the city of Tikrit, Sergeant Hazell's vehicle came under small arms fire from a nearby building. With complete disregard for his own personal safety, Sergeant Hazell immediately dismounted from the vehicle in order to provide local security for his vehicle commander. After coordinating with the other platoon scouts, Sergeant Hazell lead his scout team across 500 meters of open terrain in an urban area at night to engage the building from which they had taken fire. Sergeant Hazell's team moved swiftly and tactically under his leadership and reduced the enemy threat. Sergeant Hazell's timely and fearless actions reflected credit upon him and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Marine Corps.

"With complete disregard for his own personal safety." That's the line that just sort of makes my eyes pop and keeps me praying that November will come sooner than possible. In November, my brother's enlistment is up. I just hope they can't whisk him away to Liberia before then.

But all selfish sisterly concerns for my brother's hide aside, I gotta say how proud I am of him. He's done so well in the Marines. It's nice to see him finally get the credit and praise he's always deserved but never was inclined to get in school. Way to go, Baby Bro.

Away Again

This will be my last post until Sunday, most likely. I'm going to be pretty busy today trying to get everything ready for my vacation. I'm so excited, even if it does seem like the world is just swirling around me in a frenzy! Didn't do any writing yesterday. I just got caught up in all the insanity of this week and allowed myself to get upset about the MRI again and how it's preventing me from being there right when Brad arrives. So Mark and I went to see "Bruce Almighty" to cheer me up. Funny movie. Not the pee your pants funny I was hoping for, but still enough to shake away the bad vibes. Let's hope they stay gone.

I've never been to California before. I'm really looking forward to that as well as seeing my brother. And I get to spend more time with Brad's fiancee and maybe get to know more about her than her name! :)

And I did get the price SNAFU fixed with Frontier. Still can't believe that I didn't notice it right away. Good thing Mark was paying attention.