The burden of knowing too much.

The other night I attended a wives' party. Usually, these parties feature Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple,Tupperware or, at this time of year, some god-awful Christmas decoration manufacturer.

I said I'd go, mostly to get out of the house for a couple hours. But as I walked out the door, I yelled back to CPT Dick, "If the food isn't good, I'm so outta there!"

So imagine my surprise when I got there and realized that it was a Slumber Party. No, no. Not a slumber party with jammies and ouija boards and bras in the icebox. Oh, no. A fuckerware party. I decided I would stay for the entire event even if the food did suck. Maybe I'd win the free gift. A girl can never have too many pairs of crotchless panties, you know.

It was actually a good time, though it was a bit strange to see a Colonel's wife playing pass the vibrating double-dildo with such enthusiasm. Let me tell you, she certainly doesn't muster the same kind of excitement for raffles or fundraisers. But I suppose it's not a fair comparison. I ate a lot of food, laughed very hard and learned that a lot of wives that I thought were total sticks in the mud are actually a lot of fun. But there is one item from that night that is haunting me.

What do you do when you learn that a certain high ranking NCO, one that inspires fear and bedwetting in most 18 year old privates, one that attends church standing at the same force of attention he would for a three star, one who will go on and on about the sanctity of home and family if you let him, well, what do you do when you learn that the man has some rather unexpected tastes? How do you react when his wife tells you all about those tastes and why exactly she's tired of licking his ass hole after he sticks things in it (and, of course, is interested in a lubricant that might mask some of the aftertaste)? And knowing all this -- and even more, really -- how do you face him in the future with a straight face?

I'm still trying to figure that one out. Maybe I'll ask CPT Dick for his advice. But I'm afraid I might scar him for life.

My prayers answered.

Earlier this month, I pined for Harry Potter. I did what any girl would do in the same situation. I re-read one of the earlier books. I watched the movies on DVD again. I scoured the Internet for nudie pics of Daniel Radcliffe from his new play (kidding! -- well, maybe).

And somewhere, out there in the abyss, some kind person heard my cry and released the movie trailer for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Sure, some of you cynics may think it has something to do with Christmas marketing. But you can go scrooge yourself. I'm sure this release date was all about me, me, me.

In any case, the trailer looks pretty good. Hopefully it will do the 800+ page tome justice. And in the meantime, will this small token have the ability to carry me through to the movie's July 13, 2007 release date? Time (and how many times I can watch the trailer online before my husband starts an intervention) will tell.

Something to really get you in the holiday mood.

Brought to you from our friends at the Sprinkle Brigade:

It's so wrong. And yet, it's one of the first things that's put me in the holiday mood this year. I wonder what that says about me.

Stating the obvious.

Today, I gave a carless soldier a lift into town. My CD changer was in random mode and one of the CDs that was getting extra play was Robbie Williams' "The Ego Has Landed." I know that Robbie ain't all that in the states but when I lived abroad he was *the shit* (TM) and I associate his music with good times fueled by a lot of scotch. Brilliant his music may not be, but oh my, is it fun.

As one song finished, the soldier -- all of 19 years old -- asked me with a scowl, "Who is this on the radio?" I should have remembered that if it ain't Slipknot, it ain't music. But I thought maybe I could share my interest in catchy Brit pop with someone new.

"Robbie Williams," I replied. "Have you heard of him?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. He's gay."

Now, I wasn't sure how to take this exactly. When I was a wee one, "gay" most often meant dumb or too insignficant to be bothered with. Like, homework was "gay," the Barbies we would never admit we played with in private were "gay," and so was Ethan, the guy whose left pointer finger was permanently attached to the inside of his nostril.

But these days the word has a whole new connotation. So I had to ask, "Do you mean gay as in stupid or gay as in homosexual?"

He raised one eyebrow and said, "Well, I meant stupid but the other most likely applies, too."

I didn't reply for a moment. The fact that there was some overlap in lexicon between an old broad like me and a boy that I technically could have given birth to made me a little giddy. But then, I started to take offense. The music was not stupid (well, not much, anyway), nor is Mr. Williams a homosexual (at least, not if Page 6 is to be believed). And so right when I was about to protest, to explain Robbie's overwhelming "shitness" abroad and how he's more likely to be suffering from an overabundance of pussy, the sounds of track 4 filled the car.

My breath smells of a thousand fags
and when I get drunk I dance like me Dad
I'm starting to dress a bit like him

And with those words exploding in my ear, I thought better of saying anything. The soldier already got an education in nostalgic, old lady music. He didn't need me to explain the finer points of British slang, as well.

Still lame as far as I'm concerned.

The Democrats are in a tizzy as South Dakota's Senator Tim Johnson recovers from surgery after a most ill-timed brain hemorrhage. Apparently, the Republican governor of South Dakota is the one who will name Johnson's replacement and his choice can swing the balance of power back over to the dark side. I was discussing this yesterday with a friend and fellow misanthrope and loved his final word on the matter:

"I can't wait for the reports that the GOP somehow engineered his stroke."

A perfect fit.

Tonight is our company's holiday party. It's been sort of a pain in the ass to put together. And a lot of it has involved me showing up at CPT Dick's office yelling about needing something or other from him so I can get everything done in time. So not so much fun all around.

And of course, whenever you have an event of this size, there are always going to be those little last-minute, ass-chomping things that come up a few hours before go time. This morning was no exception. And so, I wandered into CPT Dick's office before I went to the gym to make sure that he could get these things done for me.

He glared a bit as I told him what I needed, then looked at me thoughtfully, and said, "That sports bra is way too small for your boobs."

I looked down. "No, it's not. It's just the right size for my boobs. Especially if my boobs are going to run."

"No. I can hear your boobs. They are screaming, screaming for freedom! They are saying, 'please, in the name of all that's holy, let me out, let me free!'"

"Oh, I see. Some sort of boob Morse code, eh?"

"Yes, they are staging a coup for freedom."

I just wanted to get to the gym at this point (and stop the discussion about my boobs) so I point-blank asked him, "So are you going to do what I asked or what?"

"I don't know. Are you going to set your poor boobs free?"

Top 10 Funniest Political Quotes from 2006

All I have to say is I am surprised and deeply saddened that Rumsfeld did not make the list. Did he say nothing noteworthy this year?

The complete list from Extreme Mortman:

1) John Kerry: “If you make the most of (education), you study hard, you do your homework, and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well. If you don’t, you get stuck in Iraq.” (Oct. 30)
Of course, with a joke so brilliantly funny and insightful, there were bound to wannabe imitators.

2) A tie: Ted Stevens: “The Internet is not something you just dump something on. It’s not a big truck. It’s a series of tubes.” (June 28)
and
Larry King on the Internet: “I’ve never done it, never gone searching…. The wife loves it. I wouldn’t love it. What do you punch little buttons and things?” (Nov. 14)

3) Joe Biden: “You CANNOT go into a 7-11 or a Dunkin Donuts without an Indian accent.” (July 6)

4) Hugo Chavez describing President Bush: “The devil is right at home. The devil — the devil, himself, is right in the house. And the devil came here yesterday. Yesterday, the devil came here. Right here. Right here. And it smells of sulfur still today.” (Sept. 20)

5) President Bush to legally blind reporter Peter Wallsten “Are you going to ask that question with shades on?” (June 14)

6) Rep. Bob Wexler: “I enjoy cocaine because it’s a fun thing to do.” (July 21)

7) Sen. Jeff Sessions: “I talk to those who’ve lost their lives, and they have that sense of duty and mission.” (Dec. 5)

8) Tony Snow to Helen Thomas: “Thank you for the Hezbollah view.” (July 18)

9) A tie:
George Allen: “I still had a ham sandwich for lunch. And my mother made great pork chops.” (Sept. 19)
and
Los Angeles Times correction: “An article in Section A on Wednesday about friction in the Republican Party between gays and religious conservatives said Sen. George Allen (R-Va.) had a campaign manager who is gay. The Allen staff member who is gay is his communications director.” (Oct. 19)

10) Prince George’s County, MD, County Executive Jack Johnson: “I always fly business class or first class. I think the people of Prince George’s County expect me to. I don’t think they expect me to be riding in a seat with four across and I’m in the middle.” (Nov. 20)

We weren’t sure whether to include a quote by Mayor Ray Nagin; after all, hasn’t New Orleans suffered enough? But then we caught HBO’s Comic Relief special for Katrina relief and reconsidered. Heck, if Robin, Billy, and Whoopi can find humor in a disaster while on stage in Las Vegas, then why can’t we recognize Nagin’s home-grown humor? Here then, a bonus: The Eleventh Funniest Political Quote of 2006.

11) New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin: “This city will be chocolate at the end of the day.” (Jan. 16)

'These people should be court-martialed.'

I read Salon.com's article on Mikey Weinstein, the founder of the Military Religious Freedom Foundation (MRFF) with great interest today. I am not Jewish, and as I said, we're not all that religious. But both my husband and I were raised Roman Catholic and we have baptized our son in the Catholic faith as well.

Weinstein's style is a little over the top, however, I do agree that evangelical Christians are stepping out of bounds in many ways without any kind of reigning in by their superiors. Since CPT Dick took command, we've had several incidents that have raised my hair. The one that stands out most in my mind was an innocuous little barbecue. Soon after we got here, a supposedly non-denominational Protestant chaplain held a unit-based barbecue. That is, not just this preacher's flock, but all of a particular unit -- Protestant, Catholic, Muslim and Jew -- were also invited to attend. There are many such events that are co-sponsored by chaplains and the MWR (morale, welfare and recreation) folks and when people hear the call for free food, they usually come running.

At this barbecue, religious coloring books were passed out to the children. These coloring books talked scripture and beliefs, which is fine, I suppose, but they did so in an extremely inappropriate way. On one page, the coloring book explained that religions that believed in saints (like the Roman Catholic faith) or any prophets other than those sanctioned (Mormons, Muslims and Jews) were idol worshippers and would therefore not be welcomed into heaven. Unsurprisingly, some parents were outraged and complained. A whole lot more didn't, but that's not a surprise either, I guess.

And what was done? That would be a big, fat nothing. And to add insult to injury, the new Catholic chaplain that recently came to post found a box full of these coloring books in his office with a note stating that he was free to use them for Sunday school activities.

Can you say classy?

So, as I said, I don't like Weinstein's style. And unfortunately, I think that style will kill the MRFF in the end. But I'm glad someone is finally getting up and saying something.

We're a military family that is meant to represent the United States and all of the Americans who live there, with no discrimination based on color, religion or creed. There are some higher-ups that really need to be reminded of that. Let's hope that the MRFF can serve as a wake-up call.

On family friendly movies.

Last Sunday was a rather rainy, yucky day so we decided to hang out inside and watch movies. We happen to have a large DVD collection and as such, we suffer from a great burden of choice. The actually selecting of which usually starts with one of us saying, "What do you want to watch?"

This is always immediately followed by, "I don't know. What do you want to watch?"

This continues, ad nauseum, until one of us gives in and says, "Whatever you want to watch." Then, ultimately, a few vetoes have to be thrown because once a movie is selected, it's never the one the other is actually in the mood to watch.

But surprisingly, yesterday, the song and dance changed a bit.

"What do you want to watch?" asked CPT Dick.

I was working, and Munchkin would be watching with his Daddy, so I said, "I don't know. Something family-friendly."

"Family friendly?"

"Yes. Family friendly. No boobs. No extraneous violence. Something educational and fun and interesting for the boy to watch, too."

"Like 'Patton'?"

And do you know, he was actually serious.

Balance is a dirty word.

Women's magazines have launched a full-scale assault on today's women. And their ammunition? The ever-elusive and panic-inducing life balance.

All I see are articles promising how to achieve balance in your life. Find balance between home and work. How to balance your time vs. time with your husband. Hell, they even have blurbs about balancing the balance for a better you and a happier family. And here is what I have to say about this concept: fuck balance. (Though, if there were an article about fucking and balance with right kind of illustrations, I might be down).

The only purpose of these articles is to make women feel bad. Make them think if they feel overwhelmed by motherhood, work, marriage and personal goals, then they are simply not doing something right. And nothing is further from the truth. Frankly, to be an adult woman -- and especially a mother -- means that your life will always be in a state of flux. That your priorities will shift not only from day to day, but minute to minute. That at the end of the day, something, perhaps many things, will be left undone. And you know what? That's okay.

When I think of balance, I think of my years as a dancer. I think of myself standing at the barre, poised on the top of my pointe shoe, and taking a deep breath just to get the gumption to start. The seemingly simple adjustment of raising my leg into an arabesque was some of the hardest work I've ever done. My stomach pulled in, my standing leg strong, my mind repeating a breathing mantra -- yes, I could achieve balance. And yes, I could stay that way for quite a while. But the demands on my body would eventually take their toll and I would have to come back down. Sometimes, I would fall and fall hard. It is more than enough stress to stay up like that for a few minutes. It's not something we should be coaching ourselves to continuously do in our daily lives.

Honestly, the balance part is not the key at all. It's that sweet relief in coming down. Letting go and realizing that you don't have to do it all.

So ladies, next time you see a magazine cover advertising some new strategy for achieving balance, walk away from the rack. We don't need it. Instead, let's take some time to recognize how much more applicable the falling down can be.

The true impact of Britney Spears.

This past weekend we attended a holiday ball. Thankfully, it was the last formal event for the year. Or at least, it had better be. I'm tired of mandatory fun.

These things start out staid enough but by the end of the evening, the alcohol is flowing and people get a bit out of hand. People dance, throw things, make out, hurl and sometimes throw a punch. That's just the way it is.

But this year, there was a difference in how people got out of hand. Or rather, should I say, an absence.

Panties. Most of the ladies were going commando underneath their dresses. And they weren't afraid to show it.

Now, don't get me wrong. I know that formal attire is usually cut in such a way to make wearing a bra difficult. And of course, if you are going for a clingy look, perhaps you want to avoid visible pantie lines (or VPLs as my friend S. calls them). But please, ladies, if you are going to go without, make sure that your dress stays put!

I think I've seen more va-jay-jay's in the past few weeks than our resident gynecologist. I'm ready for this pop culture phase to be over. Ladies, notice that Britney has written on her webpage that she's thankful for Victoria's Secret new pantie line. Let's follow her lead and not show our coochie-pops unless someone is paying good money for it.

Nothing kills a good buzz...

than your husband upchucking all over you in the back of a taxi.

Nothing, except, having to pay the rather irate cab driver an extra $50 for "cleaning fees."