I think my paper towels are mocking me.

Yesterday, after Munchkin puked up popcorn and apple juice all over the floor, my feet and the couch, I noticed something. My paper towels were decorated with motivational messages. Apparently, as I used half the roll to clean up the mess, not only was it "my day," but it was "my time to shine" and "the best time to smile" and "to live, laugh, learn and love."

It's never good when your paper sundries are mocking the kind of day you are having. Next time, I'm buying generic.

All of a sudden, I'm really glad that CPT Dick is going to Iraq.

Because, after all, it could be the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan. I just read an interesting and heartbreaking article about the state of things there in the New York Times Sunday Magazine.

Failure.

I'm not so good at failure.

I don't know if I mentioned it but I applied for an academic fellowship a few months ago at a fairly esteemed school in England. Honestly, I sort of applied on a lark. The fellowship was for mid-career journalists and I just barely met the eligibility requirements. I figured I'd be dismissed right off the bat.

But I wasn't. I was selected as a finalist and flown to England to interview. And that got my hopes up. Way, way up.

You know, as military wives, no matter how prolific a career or education we had before marriage, just by nature of the beast, so much of our lives becomes about our husbands. I know I've fought such a thing tooth and nail and yet here I am, living in this tiny corner of Germany, raising our child, leading my husband's FRG, volunteering my time for his unit, attending all of his events. There's not much time for my stuff. And what time there is, isn't very glamorous. I can't remember the last time I achieved something that was all about me. So you know, the idea of having my own thing, something new and different, something to do during the deployment, and, yes, I admit it, something prestigious, was so damn appealing.

But I found out yesterday that I didn't get it. It was a kind rejection. It encouraged me to apply again after gaining more experience. And you know, maybe I will. But right now, this news mixed with the looming deployment makes me wonder if I'm doing enough for *me* on a regular basis.

I don't know the answer.

I'm not sure which is more annoying...

...the continued Britney coverage, the nude photos of Lindsay Lohan as Marilyn Monroe, or the fact that Mike Huckabee won't take the hint.

Chuck Norris needs to talk to him.

Pouring on the crazy.

We're heading up to the home stretch before the deployment and it is amazing to watch what's happening. For one, there is a huge group of folks that want to leave. And they want to leave now (though they won't submit their paperwork to go home until the guys leave because the rumor that the deployment will be canceled is still going strong).

But it's hard to watch, especially as an FRG leader. The ladies who really should head back to the states for family support (and appropriate psychiatric care) won't even consider the prospect and several pillars of our community are already packing out. I'm sad to see so many good people go. And even sadder to see so many not so good people stay because I know that I will be hearing from them regularly. And really, no matter what they may think, there is nothing that an FRG can do that comes close to actually taking your daily Lithium dose.

I'm not sure what to expect but I am bracing for the worst.

What a way to start the week.

"Uh, honey? You may want not want to use that bathroom."

"Dare I ask why not?"

"The seat pinches."

"What are you talking about?"

"I broke the toilet seat yesterday and now when you sit down the crack will pinch your skin."

"How the hell did you break a toilet seat?"

"I guess I just don't know my own strength."