AS I SEE IT...

Iraq, Maternity Pants, Olive Garden...

My son called from Iraq, while his sister and I were sitting in Olive Garden trying to make them regret their offer of all you can eat soup and salad... I never got my soup... The service is horrible, but I was so happy my son called I didn't realize I didn't get my soup til I started to type this entry... gez...

I haven't shopped for maternity clothes in eighteen years, and things sure have changed... No, I am not having another baby, but my daugter is... God bless her.

And for some strange reason she just refuses to buy maternity clothes. I think she is in deep, deep denial, so I decided for my future grandbaby's sake to buy her some maternity pants. Surprise... surprise... the really good thing is the pants were so cheap... the really bad thing is "they" called these pants - maternity pants, but I just think their ugly... but these were all Target had... and wouldn't you know it... my daughter liked them. Four pairs of pants for just under $38.00... you know these pants had to be ugly... but maternity pants have never been really fashionable, have they?

Seems my son is finally admitting he is not happy with his commander... or being in the Army. He was, but a change in leadership is proving the Army can fuck up an anvil...

Seems some General was touring the base where my son is stationed until someone reported a BOMB, and the General hightailed it out of there is his chopper... hmmmmmm... sounds a little cowardice to me... not a very good example to the many lowly soldiers that can't haul ass everytime somebody yells BOMB... then again... maybe somebody knew that was the best way, and the quickest way to get rid of the General... who knows?

I can't remember anymore why I was so fired up to go the the Writing.Com Convention, and it is not because I don't want to go... I am sure it has something to do with my husband making me fly... I really, really hate flying...

I don't care how big the plane is...
I don't care what the statistics about planes accidents are...
I don't care... I HATE FLYING... and the hate and dread of flying is over shadowing any expectations of having a good time I ever imagined I'd have... and I have to fly back! SHIT!