Read the comments.

Thanks to Lee Anne and Bette for pointing out The Military vs. Marriages.

The column made me a little sick to my stomach. I could all too well relate. And then I read the comments. Yuck.

Oh vey.

And so it begins.

Our FRG (family readiness group for you, Just Laura -- the new Army-official version of the family support group) has a new member. Well, sort of.

A new guy has joined the unit. He's kind of high up. His wife, after a few days in country, decided it was time for a new world order. She held a coffee for all of the wives whose husbands work for her husband and told them that they should come to her with all issues and problems. They should not, under any circumstance, contact the FRG, attend meetings or keep up with their FRG point of contact. The FRG could not help them. She could. Basically, she informed them that there is a new sheriff and people better get used to it or get the fuck out of town.

Honestly, where do people come up with this shit? How can they think for a second that it is a good idea?

So I spent my day calling a lot of really upset ladies to inform them that, no, we didn't kick them out of the FRG. No, there isn't a new pecking order. And yes, this new woman is off her fucking rocker. And since she won't take my calls, I now have to go visit Mrs. Newbie this weekend or get my husband, the guy in charge of the FRG, to ask her husband to straighten her out. Not a fun prospect either way, really.

Why exactly did I sign up for this shit?

Just a silly old love song.

As part of our unit's farewell ceremony, I've been asked to create a slideshow complete with photos from the past year and personal messages. It's to be set to music. Only problem is, I'm having a lot of trouble figuring out what music to use.

We have a very diverse unit. Lots of different ages, races, religions and preferences. There's no way to please everyone. But I would like to stay moderately hip. But honestly, do you know how hard it is to find songs that aren't too happy, aren't too sad, don't talk about drugs, drinking, adultery or breaking up or God? It ain't easy, I tell you. It ain't easy at all.

But I came up with a couple choices (the slideshow will take about 15 minutes -- so 3-4 songs). I thought Rihanna's "Umbrella," though played out, would fit. Foo Fighters' "Next Year" is always a popular choice. And that country dude who sings "That's what it's all about."

But I don't know. The choices feel lame. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery? I'm taking anything but Toby Keith requests.

This is just ridiculous.

An article in today's New York Times discusses the difficulty for some soldiers to receive their citizenship, even after a directive from President Bush to put them at the front of the line. One soldier, Abdool Habibullah, honorably discharged from the Marines after a tour in Iraq, has been waiting for years pending a "background check."

The saddest part?

In the meantime, Mr. Habibullah is working as an aircraft hydraulics mechanic in
Connecticut, though he hopes to get a better-paying job in the federal
government once he is naturalized. In October, Mr. Habibullah’s father and
grandmother became citizens in separate ceremonies, though they applied fully
two years after he did.

Mr. Habibullah has passed the citizenship test and been
interviewed, and he said he does not know what to do to move his application
through the backlog faster.

“Every time I ask about it, I get the same answer:
it’s pending the background check,” Mr. Habibullah said as he looked over his
military medals, which are displayed on a wall in the Mount Vernon, N.Y.,
apartment he shares with his wife and 1-month-old son.

Funny how his background didn't take nearly as much time to examine when he decided to sign up for the service.

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."