Nancy in Iraq...Again...

2008-05-08T16:08:00.004-03:00

Well, I rarely have news to report while I am back home, ie, NOT in Iraq. Here is an acception to the rule: My T-Shirt business partner, LB, has launched our T-Shirt site, and it is awesome. Go to www.hippocratees.net, look at the shirts, and buy something for you and your friends!

2007-12-04T22:53:00.000-03:00

Hi. I am home in San Diego. The trip was fine, and CRC checkout was faster than expected. I caught some sort of a flu bug in Kuwait, though, and I am sick. So, I'll blog later.

2007-11-29T10:22:00.000-03:00

Kuwait. Wait. I forgot to tell you all (ya’ll) that I have reached the end of my contract and am now on my way home via KoooooWaaaaait. Yeehaw!!!

My mission is to go through the wickets here to get onto the Freedom Flight (a charter flight for military and civilian personnel transiting to/from theater), fly to Georgia (USA), out process through CRC at Ft Benning, and fly home to San Diego in time to go to Dave’s SEAL Team 7 Christmas party on the 6th. It’s quite a goal.

Back in Iraq, I spent a few days packing, sending things home, and tying up loose ends to prepare for my departure. I am flying home ahead of the rest of my team to provide forward liaison. My company’s employees are flying home via military airlift, so there are some protocols that must be followed. In other words, mil air is a pain in the ass, so I’m acting as guinea pig.

Flying home from Iraq via mil air requires catching a flight to Ali Al Saleem Air Base in Kuwait, waiting around, and then catching a “Freedom Flight” to the East Coast. The thing about all that is, if you miss a single muster while waiting for your flight home, you won’t go home. Freedom Flights depart Kuwait once a week, so if you miss a muster and can’t hop the flight, you have to wait an entire week, doing nothing in Kuwait in a loud, horrible, obnoxious transient tent.

There is usually a muster Saturday morning, and there are no flights (embassy flights aboard USAF aircraft) from Baghdad to Kuwait on Thursdays. Waiting until Friday to hop an embassy flight is dangerous, because if an aircraft goes down for maintenance, the delay could result in missing the Freedom Flight and having to wait a week for the next one. With no flights on Thursdays, the only way to get a buffer is to fly to Kuwait on Wednesday. Flying on Wednesday means waiting around in Kuwait for WAY too long for the Freedom Flight. So here I am.

Ali Al Saleem has a very good MWR, some fast food joints (KFC, McDonald’s, Subway, Green Bean, Hole-N-One Donuts), a fairly decent DFAC, a gym, and a beauty salon (where I had a blow-out this morning and will go for a pedicure tonight). There’s also a whole horde of TCN’s here selling jewelry, sports apparel, leather goods, perfumes, moo-moos, electronics, and all sorts of crap that is made in India or China but not Iraq or Kuwait. The MWR loans out DVDs, shows movies on a big TV, has a whole bunch of gaming stations and internet kiosks, and has a phone center. The free internet is slow as crap and doesn’t allow MSN chat, but there is a $5/hour pay internet center that does.

I went to the MWR when I arrived here, hoping to send an email home and place a call to the office to let people know I had arrived safely. Well, when I walked in, I immediately bumped into LtCol Bill Seely, a friend of mine from the 11th MEU. When I deployed with him in 1998, he was a capt/major, and I was a lt/capt. He looks exactly the same, and he has had all sorts of amazing experiences since then. We both had a lot of stories to share. The funny thing is, he lives in Okinawa, and there is a TV program on there that co-stars yours truly. Haha. It’s a reality show filmed during my 2003 drive around the world. Check out http://www.drivearoundtheworld.com/ for expedition details (LONGITUDE Expedition), and check out the National Geographic show’s website at http://www.odysseyshow.com/. The series is airing everywhere except the USA, and it has an audience of some 65 million or so! It was cool that one of my friends has seen it. Heck, I haven’t even seen it!!!

So, that’s about it for now. I’ve lots more blogging to do to catch up, and, luckily, I have the time right now. Let’s hope I also have the inclination!

Pictures will follow, hopefully soon.

2007-11-15T10:29:00.001-03:00

They are pushing rocks around in preparation for the rainy season. I wouldn't wish Iraqi mud upon my worst enemy...or maybe I would...

First they put down some fabric, for some reason.

Then they put rocks on top of it.

A word about the weather:

It is FREEZING here! A cold front blew in Monday, and it is downright nipply here! I have to turn the A/C off at night now, in my trailer, and it has been so cold the past two mornings that I have turned the heat on! I actually wore long sleeves the other day for my morning run! I think it has been dropping below 50 at night, and it is 50's/60's in the morning. We barely need our A/C during the day at work.

With the cooler weather comes the threat of rain. November is usually when the first rains fall, and rain in Iraq is a complete mess. The sand is like talcum powder, and adding water to talcum powder creates the world's stickiest, nastiest, slickest mud. I hope I get out of here before the first rain hits. I have my Wellington boots, just in case.

To prepare for the rainy season, KBR has started spreading the gravel around. Right now, it is just in strips, like sidewalks. That means people will walk through the mud in front of their trailers to get to the sidewalks, and then they will cover the sidewalks in mud. Just a prediction. And the bathrooms and showers will be full of rocks and mud because of the inconsiderate people who wash their boots in them like pigs. You wouldn't believe how nasty some people can be.

2007-11-15T10:26:00.000-03:00

My boat and oar. I don't have a name for her, yet.

Layer one. I put one more layer on top to make the boat more bouyant.

Das boat is done.

I have had enormous issues with my internet. Once the problem was fixed in my trailer, my computer basically "pooped the bed." It took a while to recover. Since then, we have been handed a stricter blogging policy (a company-specific thing, not an MNC-I thing), and I sort of lost interest in blogging, altogether.

I feel bad about leaving everybody in the dark, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. It's hard to blog when you don't feel like it. I haven't felt like it. I still don't feel like it. I'll do it anyway.

I wanted to update you on the boat-building competition:

Dan and I finished our boats yesterday, and we built our oars today. We are both extremely pleased with our results. We're going to have a team party Saturday, and that is when we will launch the boats for the first time. I hope we don't get wet. I've begged Dan to add one or two more pontoons to his boat for balance/buoyancy, but he's happy with what he has. His boat is quie impressive, made entirely of bottles and tape. Go, Dan!!! Mine is made of sandbats, 550 cord, and bottles. I'm not sure I have enough surface area to keep my butt dry, but I will pray I do. Haha. It will be fun, and we'll bring a change of clothes, just in case.

My Boat Statistics:

25 sand bags

240 water bottles

55" x 41" x 13"

oar = 8'

150' of 550 cord

To make the oar end, I butterflied two water bottles, sewed them together, and then sewed them onto a piece of wood. The tape reinforces the holes I had to cut for the cord.

Here's the end, lashed to the wood. And this is a water bottle, wrapped around the wood for a padded handle.

Dan, taping his bottles together. His boat is cool. It's very symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing.

He's a tall guy...and that's a small boat...

Two rafts, in a head-to-head competition.

2007-11-06T13:25:00.000-03:00

Hi ya'll. I have a brand new excuse for not blogging: The wireless has been down in my trailer! Yeah, no wireless in the trailer makes for a very, very grump Nancy and David. No wireless means no blog, no Google, and NO MSN chatting!!! That makes life especially crappy here.

Well, today I found a little USB internet booster thingy at the PX, and then I found a very long USB extension cable at the baby Hadji mart by the baby PX, and I connected the booster thingy to a long pole, put it up outside of my window, ran the cable through to my computer, and VOILA!!! Internet. Now, though, I am actually not sure whether my connection is thanks to my antenna, or whether the net coincidentally started working again just now. You see, I used to have a connection through some nice neighbor who (this is my theory) used to broadcast the signal. Normally, you can't connect to the wireless (Jackal Wireless) here without the special Jackal equipment, and there is a waiting list for equipment. Since I was able to magically get it without equipment before, I took my name off the equipment list. That's why I was so sad when the signal disappeared a few days ago and stayed gone. I figured I'd be without internet until the end of my tour here. But now I have it, and I am most pleased with myself.

I have nothing to update you on, really, since we don't have much going on here, but here are a few tidbits:

1. The kill board on our wall is now almost entirely full of black flies. I have space in my section for two more. Once those are filled, I will be killed out. I don't have it in my heart to do anymore killing. I'll post pics tomorrow.

2. Since the last bad "incoming" report I delivered, we have had about three more scary-ish ones. The most recent was WAY too close to my hooch for comfort. It was a very rude awakening early in the morning to hear big explosions in my neighborhood walk closer and closer toward my front door. Somehow, nobody was seriously injured.

3. I have collected enough water bottles for probably one more 5-sandbag mat. I might sew it tomorrow, if I have the proper motivation. I'm thinking about designing outriggers to add stability to my raft.

4. My puppy breeder appears to have been fooled by a false pregnancy, so no little puppies were born with my name on them. Rats. I'll have to start my search all over again.

5. I have less than a month to go, and then I'll be on a plane heading home!

2007-11-02T12:10:00.000-03:00

Niiiice haiiiir! Hahaha.

We are getting closer to our departure date, and that makes me VERY happy. We have to be home by Dec 5, and that means home to our HOMES by that date. And THAT means I will be home in time to go to the SEAL Team 7 Christmas party with Dave. YAY! That was my Number One goal, since I knew I wouldn't be able to make Dave's homecoming. I do get to go to the Christmas party, and that is very good news.

I chatted with Dave this morning, and I asked the poor dear to call A Model Call in La Jolla to get me a hair appointment with my hair genius, Katharine. And some of you thought I wasn’t high maintenance!

I just had my hair trimmed for the first time in about six months, and I let them take off barely an inch. I have trust issues when it comes to hair. There's a strong possibility the girl who cut me has never done a haircut in her life (she kept getting instructions from the Indian man who also works in the beauty shop), but she did a fine job. I also got a deep conditioning treatment, since the water and elements here make my coarse hair feel like wire. I also had her blow dry my hair, which is an extreme luxury. It takes ages, because of how thick and long my mop is. I feel almost human again! [BTW, I didn't have to come in to work today until 1600, because I have the duty from 16-2400, and that is the deal on duty days. That’s why I had time for a haircut.]

So, anyway, I don't have tons to tell you, unfortunately. I did have a couple of extremely scary dreams this morning. The first was a recurring nightmare about cutting off my hair (go figure). In my dream, I had it all cut off. It was long on the sides, like elephant ears, and short in the back, like a duck's butt. And the lady in my dream dyed it white and black, like Cruella DeVille. It was SOOOOO terrible. I was very upset and praying it was a dream. My heart was pounding, and I forced myself awake, grasping for my hair as I came to. It was all still there, thank God.

My other dream was even weirder (more weird?). I dreamt that I went to a midwife to get a pregnancy test. She was a lady recommended to me by my friend and realtor, Kristine, because everybody we hire for stuff in SoCal is somebody recommended by Kristine (our jeweler, our tree guy, my accountant, our yard man, etc.). I was at a bakery in a strip mall, with my college friends (the WUBAs), shortly after my hair incident, and we decided I should go get a pregnancy test. The lady Kristine recommended was at a Greek massage parlour around the corner from the strip mall. Kristine showed us the way, and I went in for the test. Before I knew what was happening, the "doctor" was handing me a baby in a case that resembles those plastic containers the rotissiere chicken comes in at the grocery store. I wasn't allowed to open the chicken bucket, because the baby was still developing (it was only about 5 weeks old), even though it looked full-term and had blond hair and blue eyes. She handed me the baby at the same time she told me I was pregnant, and she said it was a boy. Congratulations.

Geez. So, I walked out to where the WUBAs were waiting, and Lori came up to me first, and I told her the good news, and then all the WUBAs congratulated me. I announced that I was "pregnant" with a boy, and I expressed concern that I had told all of them before telling Dave, and I showed them the baby. I was really upset about having the baby to haul out of there with me, because it didn't make sense. "What am I supposed to do with it?" They said I just had to keep it on the list. "But what does that MEAN?!" I was asking. They meant that I literally had to physically place the baby, in its chicken bucket, on top of a list of some sort and keep it there until it was ready. I don't know what that meant, but I understood that the baby wasn't "ready" yet. The "doctor" specialized in envitro deliveries, so she had delivered it envitro. WHAT??? But I didn't ask for an envitro delivery. I asked for a pregnancy test! Now what?! And what the hell is an envitro delivery???

Suddenly, Lori piped in with how she thought that envitro deliveries were only for mothers who had delivered before, and this was my first pregnancy. The doctor and her employees became very agitated, and they whispered amongst themselves. There was a flurry of activity as they tried to solve the problem, and I thought maybe they were going to stick the baby back in me.

I was really, really upset, because this meant that I wouldn’t get to experience the pregnancy at all, since the baby would develop inside of the chickent bucket. I wouldn’t get a pot belly, and that made me really sad. They did say I could drink alcohol, but that didn’t make me feel better. I wouldn’t gt to be pregnant! In the end, they just sent me home, and I put the baby in the back seat and drove off.

The next thing I knew, we were at the strip mall again, and the baby boy was about 11, and he was with me in a candy store or something. He was a cute boy, with blue eyes, and his hair was blond and black, patchwork style. His name was Dillon. And then I woke up with my heart pounding.

Good grief. That was a very, very rough morning. :) Don't anybody jump to any conclusions about my anxiety dreams, ok? There are several factors that can explain most facets of the dream.

1. I just watched all 3 seasons of Lost in a matter of days. They talk a lot about lists in that show. There is also a lot to do with babies and fertility and pregnancy and birth in that show.

2. I received an email from my friend Naomi last night, sent to all the WUBAs.

3. I just started watching Rome, and the actors, several of them, look Greek to me.

4. I had plans to get my hair cut today, and that always causes some anxiety.

5. The bass guitarist who just performed the other night on Victory had white-blond hair that looked like elephant ears on the sides and a duck butt in the back.

6. I don't know why the baby would be called Dillon but it is a nice name. It's my best friend's brother-in-law's name.

So, that's about it. I hope you all had a nice laugh at my expense.

2007-10-31T09:53:00.001-03:00

What the heck is Nancy doing? SEWING!?

Well, sort of. I am sort of sewing sandbags together.

And stuffing them with empty water bottles...

And then sewing them closed.

See my makeshift needle and "thread?"

So, why, you might ask, am I sewing sandbags together and filling them with water bottles? Well, the answer is strange, but simple. I am building a boat. Dan and I are having a raft-building competition, and I am, of course, determined to win. Of course. Competition is my middle name.

We drink a lot of water here each day, and it just seems such a waste to throw out all our empty bottles. We've known for a long time that there must be good alternative uses for these things, but we've never taken the opportunity to explore further...until recently. We work on one of Saddam's many lakes, and we have to walk along a canal to get to our office. Building a water bottle boat has long been a fantasy of mine. What I mean by that is, the idea occurred to me last year, too, but I was too unmotivated to turn my pipe dream into a reality. That was before Dan decided he'd build a boat. Then I decided, "Game on!"

For a while, we thought we might build a bridge. Then I thought about building a cubicle/igloo around my desk. Then we circled right back around to "boat." Competition is fun, and we have nothing better to do with our spare time. Sad, I know.

Dan's technique is to use tape, strapping his bottles into blocks of seven. He's then going to tape those blocks together to build his raft. My technique employes the afformentioned sand bags, laced together in strings of five to form little mats. I'll then sew, I think, three of those mats together to build my bottom layer. Because I figure I'll need more buoyancy, I'll put at least two more mats on top of those three. Then I will add wood, for comfort and balance. And that's it. Right now, I have three complete mats, plus one that is stuffed but needs to be sewn shut. I'll finish that tonight.

Tomorrow, I will continue collecting empties to fill my final mat. I also need to pilfer more sandbags. Heehee. I know where to find hundreds of thousands of them. It takes a minimum of eight bottles to fill each bag, times five bags, which means I need 40 more bottles!!! I'd better get to drinking!!!

I'm not sure when the competition will take place, but it should be pretty soon. Maybe we'll make it into Stars and Stripes! Their offices are in our neighborhood, just a few trailers down. Haha. Anyhow, I'll let you know as the situation develops...

Later....Nancy

2007-10-30T12:29:00.000-03:00

Howdy, all. Well, I have been really bored and lazy lately, so I haven't blogged. I will blog tomorrow, I promise. Tomorrow, I will teach you about another thing we do to stay entertained here. It has to do with Naval architecture.

We have had some incoming here in the past week, and I just want you all to know, if you have heard anything about anything from anyone, that my friends and I are superduper. But it sure would be nice to have something to throw back at those turds. :)

Have a lovely Tuesday!!!

2007-10-27T14:29:00.001-03:00

MySoupSandwich.com, a deployment guide for those deploying to BIAP.

There is no new post today, because I have been working on a CRC-to-Baghdad Deployment Guide. Click here to view it.

Keep checking back, because I intend to update it and flesh it out a bit over the next few weeks.

Please tell your friends about it, if you know anybody who is heading out here. If you like it and find it useful, spread the word at CRC, too.

Please realize that the website is evolving, and it will continue to improve.

2007-10-27T04:14:00.001-03:00

Our kill board yesterday.

Our kill board today.

Boredom isn’t good for flies.

We open our office door during the (relatively) cool morning and evening hours. That means we are likely to have any number of guests, wanted and unwanted, poking their noses in. Mostly it’s just harmless “hellos” and “how ya doin’s” from neighboring trailer dwellers. But sometimes, it’s flies.

The flies drive us insane. Apparently, we are not the only ones afflicted by the little beasties, because the PX recently started stocking fly swatters. Now, each one of us has one in our little four-man trailer.

It started out innocently enough…a dead fly here, a dead fly there. But then it progressed. Soon, we were in full competition, with myself and Dan (the Danimator) going head-to-head. Now it is one of our best forms of entertainment.

When one of us would make a kill, the other would ask for proof. The body would have to be recovered and placed on the padded envelope covering the small trashcan in the corner by Dan’s desk. Fly corpses began piling up like tiny little horror film props. Pretty soon, we developed a sort of battle rhythm, and “No guts, no glory” became our mantra.

As soon as a fly is detected, swatters are taken up. The fiercest of competitors hold still and say a silent prayer that the minute, pesky flying enemy will land on their desk, or their computer, or their knee or arm. They are much easier to kill when they land on something. Eventually, the little bugger holds still for too long, and, THWACK! Shouts of joy ring out from the victorious warrior, while the other players demand, “No guts, no glory.”

If the body can’t be found, or if no trace of guts can be presented, no kill. Today, I eviscerated one and then accidentally smeared it into the fibers of our dusty carpet. Luckily, I had enough of his tiny little abdomen on the swatter to prove I’d made a kill.

We have a kill board, and as gross as it is, we won’t take it down. We’re oddly proud of it. We tape our flies to the wall with each kill, and lost or decimated deaths are annotated with a little drawing of a fly.

Dan was winning for a few days, but I caught back up today. He says it’s because he has more work to do, keeping him busy. I say he just isn’t trying. Yes, I will get up from my desk to invade another’s battle space, but I am a competitive little vixen, and I will get my fly. I will win. Oh, yes, I will win. No little 25-year-old civilian , cutie (that's you, Dan) is going to best this former Marine…MUWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA……

2007-10-25T14:17:00.000-03:00

The sun sets on another day...time to put in a DVD.

Well, I have been a baaaad blogger. I blame Shane. ;) Why? Because, he loaned me his box set of Roswell, and I got hooked on it until I'd finished all three seasons. And then, he forced me to accompany him to the Hadji mart Saturday, where I ended up with another box set that he wouldn't shut his pie hole about and that he encouraged me to buy. He tricked me. I was weak, because I was missing my Roswell characters.

That's one of the things we do over here for fun, in case you were wondering: we feverishly watch as many bootleg DVD movies and TV shows as we can, often becoming slaves to our laptops/DVD players. On Saturdays, you will find us, the real bootleg junkies, meticulously picking through table after table of box sets, music videos, and movies at the Black Hawk. Hadji knows we are slaves to his bootlegs, so he charges us $3 per movie, even though the going rate out on the 'ville is less than a buck.

We don't even care that most of the copies we buy are of the poorest picture and sound quality possible, and that some won't play at all. My first copy of The Bourne Ultimatum actually showed an exit sign and several heads blocking the view, like Mystery Science Theatre 3000. I say "first copy," because I had to buy a new one (Copy 2 was immaculate) when the original quit working about 15 min before the final curtain. But that is the price we are willing to pay. It's a gamble, and we know it. "Damn the torpedoes!" as they say.

I wasn't going to watch TV this time, honest I wasn't. I was going to read. And study Spanish. But I read all my books, including those I ordered on Amazon, and after about 3000 pages of fine print, I decided to turn to my first love, my vice of last year: the dreaded FOB "crack" known as the DVD. Oh, and I can always learn Spanish later...

So, after scarfing down Roswell and about 35 various movies, I went back to the Black Hawk for some more TV shows. TV is easier, you see, because it doesn't require the commitment that a movie does. It doesn't need 2 hours; it just needs 30 min. Well, that is, unless you get sucked in. If that happens, Lord have mercy on your soul. You will find yourself up into the wee hours every night, sneaking episodes during every free moment you have during the day, and even, yes, that's right, even replacing your blog time with TV time. That's right, I said it. I have a problem, and admitting it is the first step to recovery.

The only problem is, I can't commit to any 12-step recovery programs until I finish watching the TV series I bought during that regrettable recent trip to the Black Hawk. Dave is a Lost junkie, but I had never seen a single episode, and that always made it impossible for us to watch it together at home. He has also been telling me about how much he loves the series called Rome, and how he watched the first two seasons during his deployment. Unable to choose between the two, I bought both.

At present, I am 100% obsessed, a slave to Lost. For the past few days, I have neglected everything I can think to neglect, just to be able to find out what in the HELL is on that ISLAND!!!! A plane falls out of the sky from 30,000 ft, and 49 survive??? And they are not alone on the "deserted" island? I must know what happens to them. I mean, what is that THING???

I just finished Season One, and it is all I can do to sit here and type, knowing full well that adventures, surprises, horror, romance, tenderness, discovery, and mystery abound within that shiny rainbow disc that is the wonderful world of DVD.

I promise to peel myself away for a few moments each day in order to tell you about the other things we have been doing for fun here. And I'll update you a little bit on incoming, and work, and homecoming. I've loads to tell you...

2007-10-19T02:58:00.000-03:00

WARNING: THIS BLOG IS RATED PG-13:

Bad, militant rocketeers.

Good Rocketeer.

WARNING: THIS BLOG IS RATED PG-13

Well, it seems we got those bastards who launched rockets at Victory and Liberty bases and killed a couple of great American soldiers.

If you must know the truth, I truly will not mind if they are mistreated while in our custody. No, I take that back. We are good and just and will not tolerate mistreatment of prisoners of war, and we need to keep it that way. But it is sooo very tempting. I don't think of them as POWs so much as terrorist bully shitheads.

We haven't had any incoming since these monkeys were captured. (Taunt, taunt.) Um, knock on wood. I guess after a dry week, we can expect something any day now.

Camp Victory attack suspect captured, U.S. military says

Story Highlights
Three other men captured along with Camp Victory suspect, military says [YAY!]
Washington Post reporter, two Iraqi newspaper journalists die Sunday
118 journalists killed in Iraq before Sunday's deaths, organization says
Car bombing targets families returning from post-Ramadan festival [Niiiiice.]

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) -- The man believed to be responsible for last week's rocket attack on the U.S. Army's Camp Victory was captured in an early morning raid Monday, the U.S. military said.

In addition to the Camp Victory suspect, three other known associates of that man were captured in the Iraq Ministry of Agriculture compound in eastern Baghdad's Rusifiya district.
The four were hiding, which prompted U.S. soldiers to enter the compound to detain them, the military said.

The attack on Wednesday killed two U.S. soldiers and wounded 38 at Camp Victory, which is near Baghdad International Airport. Two third-country nationals were also wounded in the attack, but the military did not clarify their nationalities.

"We have reason to believe that, through two intelligence-driven operations over the last few days, we now have detained all of the leadership and the key operatives of the indirect fire cell that attacked Victory Base last week," said Brig. Gen. Vincent Brooks, Multi-National Division Baghdad's deputy commanding general.

On Sunday, two local journalists and a Washington Post reporter were shot dead in an area between Tikrit and Kirkuk in northern Iraq.

Tikrit police said two journalists working for a local newspaper were killed and three security guards were wounded in the ambush.

Salih Saif Aldin, a 32-year-old Iraqi reporter working for the Post, was shot and killed in the southwestern neighborhood of Saidiya, the paper reported in its Monday editions.

"The death of Salih Saif Aldin in the service of our readers is a tragedy for everyone at The Washington Post. He was a brave and valuable reporter who contributed much to our coverage of Iraq," said Leonard Downie Jr., executive editor of The Post, was quoted as saying.

"We are in his debt. We grieve with his family, friends, fellow journalists and everyone in our Baghdad bureau."

The newspaper said he had taken a taxi from the Post's office to the neighborhood "to interview residents about the sectarian violence there between Shiite militiamen and Sunni insurgents."
The paper reported that "two hours later, a man picked up Saif Aldin's cell phone and called a colleague at the Post to say he had been shot." He was shot once in the forehead, the paper said.

The area where the reporter visited had been dominated by the Mehdi Army, the militia of Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, and police believe he was killed by Sunnis aligned with the "Awakening Council" -- the anti-insurgent tribal forces working with the United States, the paper reported.

The Committee to Protect Journalists, a group that promotes freedom of the press, said before the Sunday killings that 118 journalists had been killed as a result of hostilities in Iraq.
Other developments

• A car bomb targeting families returning from a post-Ramadan festival ripped through a predominantly Sunni district of Baghdad on Monday, killing at least three civilians and wounding 25, an Interior Ministry official said. The casualties included women and children. On Sunday, insurgents targeted Shiite Muslims in separate attacks in Baghdad and Samarra that

left at least 24 dead, Iraqi officials said.

• Five Iraqi youths were killed and 28 Iraqis were wounded on Monday when insurgents fired mortars at two joint Iraqi-coalition military bases in the predominantly Shiite city of Diwaniya in southern Iraq, an Iraqi Interior Ministry official said. The bases are about three kilometers (two miles) apart.

• A U.S. soldier was killed and three others wounded by a roadside bomb in southern Baghdad on Sunday, the military said. Also Sunday, a U.S. soldier died in "a non-combat related incident" in Nineveh province, northern Iraq. The latest fatalities bring the U.S. military death toll in Iraq to 3,829. The toll in October stands at 22.

• Coalition forces across Iraq killed three insurgents and detained 20 people during raids on Saturday and Sunday targeting al Qaeda in Iraq, the U.S. military said.

2007-10-18T17:13:00.000-03:00

I have skinny feet. That is a fact. There is no disputing it. When I was a kid, I was known as "Gun boats," "Snow skis," and any number of "Big Foot-esque" names. When I was in the seventh grade, I wanted to buy leather shoes known as Sebagos, so as to be hip and cool like the other kids. I'll never forget those shoes, because when we went to buy them, the saleslady looked at my gun boats and actually laughed out loud at their length/narrowness. Thankfully, at nearly 5'9", I have almost grown into my size 10 footsies.

But right now, my long, skinny feet are killing me. I don't know what it is, but I've been having pains for the last week, almost. It started with a searing pain in my left ankle, on the inside. It's not the sort of pain that would usually force me to take time off from running, but it's the sort that will provide a handy excuse if needed. But yesterday, I started getting sharp pains in my right foot, sort of on top, near the inside, where my ankle joins my foot. I'm not at all sure what's causing it.

The pain isn't entirely new. In fact, I have had the same pain, but only in occasional bursts, for a year or two. But right now, the difference is that it keeps occurring. Sharp pains when I push off with my foot. So sharp, in fact, that I usually excrete [sic] some sort of noise, and reflex causes me to flinch such that I nearly fall over. The problem is, I don't know if this means I need to stop running for a spell. It doesn't actually hurt while I am running. It just hurts afterward, and only when I have been sitting and then stand up to move.

I honestly believe this all started from snowboarding. Often, when going heel-side to brake, I have sort of jammed my ankles. That jamming of the ankles, I believe, is what jumpstarted my pain. The reason I believe that is because the pain I get now is the same as I would have if I were stopping on a snowboard and hit a bump, thereby jamming my ankles. The trouble is, it is the gentlest movements which cause the excruciating pain. For example, if I am climbing steps, and I put just the very front of my foot on the step, with the rest hanging off, and then I put weight on that foot to step up, I would probably end up screaming and then writhing in pain.

Melissa thinks I should have it checked out. I think they'll tell me to take it easy and pop some Motrin. I also think lack of proper nutrition might be part of the problem. For that reason, I will forgo a visit with the doctor, and I just bought a pack of multivitamins at the PX. I'll give it a few days without curbing my running. If the pain continues, I'll continue the vitamins and stop the running. If anybody has any suggestions, feel free to send them to me via the comments thingy.

I'll let you know how it goes.

On a more positive note, the weather here has been FABULOUS for the past two days. The max has been in the 80's today and yesterday, and it was a blustery 70 F on my way to work this morning. I was chilled. This evening, it must've been in the 60's, because I was nearly shivering. Gotta love it. Unfortunately, I think the temperature is supposed to heat back up starting tomorrow (Friday). Bummer.

2007-10-16T12:44:00.000-03:00

Doggies:

Our future puppy's father, Haans.

Haans on the left, and mother Gretchen on the right.

Dave and I are expecting....

...a puppy in December!

I grew up with dogs (Laborador retrievers), and I have been without a dog since graduating high school and going off to USNA in 1991 (geez, I am old). It's hard for someone who grew up with dogs to go without for so long. It's also hard for someone who has been without a dog for so long to again get used to the idea of having pet hair all over the house. I admit it. I have gone all soft. I have become prissy. I hate having pet hair on my sweaters.

A dog is a hugenormous responsibility, and I have never been in a position to commit to a dog, especially as a single gal who tends to be sort of on the move a lot. I've come close several times, but somehow I always managed to escape, pet free.

Dave did not grow up with dogs, but he did have a rabbit named beaner (as in carabiner), and his brother had and has dogs. Dave is great with them, and either he truly wants one, or he is kindly endulging my own need for one. As soon as I heard the word "yes" come out of his mouth, I plopped down the money required to reserve our first pick of boy puppies from a breeder in Buhl, Idaho, called Snake River Griffons. They have a good reputation for breeding Wirehaired Pointing Griffons with good confirmation and great temperaments.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD is a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon?" you might ask. Well, it is an upland hunting breed, a pointer, obviously, and they are thought of as sort of the "all-terrain" breed of the dog world. As previously mentioned, I have an aversion to dog hair all over the place, and any dog we own will be an indoor dog. He'll come and go, inside and outside, as any member of our family would. Well, WHPGs don't shed much at all. Even more importantly, griffs are ATHLETIC. That means they can RUN with me! And griffs also have webbed feet for swimming, like Labs and Newfoundlands. And they are SMART. By all accounts, they are easy to train and very eager to please. They are "people dogs," meaning they hate being alone and need to be around people.

Anyway, my mom discovered the breed a couple of years ago in Boise, while walking Bentley, their 140-lb Newfoundland. She met a very young girl griff who was so perfectly well behaved, and she knew immediately it was the breed for Dave and me. After much research, I agreed.

My parents went to visit our baby mamma last weekend, and they sent pics. My folks returned from that visit all excited about their future granddog. Dave and I are 90% sure his name will be Admiral Brillo von Korthals. Korthals is the name of the guy who created the breed. Admiral is a name Dave and I think is cool, and Brillo is a name I have had in my head since I was a kid. I think it suits a dog with a wirey coat, don't you think?

Anyway, I'm on duty, and I have to get back to doing what I do. Sooooooo....peace out!

Our baby daddy, Haans.

How cute is Haans???

2007-10-14T06:03:00.000-03:00

Tongan Royal Marines.

[Photo by Marine Cpl. Darhonda Rodela]

Recently, my teammates and I were delighted note the conspicuous arrival of a group of highly disciplined, extremely polite, completely squared away, and uncommonly big and strong new coalition forces. The newcomers are the Royal Tongan Marines, and they are AWESOME.

When I read their patches to figure out where they are from, I have to admit I didn’t exactly know where the Tonga was located on a map. So I looked it up on Wikipedia. It seems the Kingdom of Tonga (Tongan for "south") is an independent archipelago in the southern Pacific Ocean. It lies about a third of the way between New Zealand and Hawaii, south of Samoa and east of Fiji. And their armed forces consist of 450 members. So I guess, like, their entire Marine Corps is here. :)

These guys are guarding the palace, and they actually look at and scrutinize the ID cards of everyone who comes through the gate. They also “Sir” and “Ma’am” everybody who comes through the gate. In fact, I have been “ma’am-ed” by them every time I have seen them, whether at the palace or elsewhere. They always offer a friendly greeting, and I even get "good morning, ma'am" when we are out running. They live near my trailer park, and they are so polite every time I see them. Everybody I talk to receives the same level of politeness from them. I’m half expecting a ma’am sandwich (“Ma’am, yes ma’am.”) if I venture to ask them a question. I guess that's only fitting for troops who come from "The Friendly Islands."

These guys are great, and I honestly feel safer by their mere presence here on the VBC. (In my experience, every country’s Marines are “elite.”) If I ever get in a fight, I want these guys to bail me out.

Welcome to Camp Victory, Marines!

Tongan Marines take over palace security
Monday, 08 October 2007
By Marine Cpl. Darhonda Rodela
MNC-I PAO

BAGHDAD — The Kingdom of Tonga’s contingent of Marines accepted duties to provide palace security during a recent assumption of responsibility ceremony here.
Before assuming their duties, the Tongan Marines were at Camp Pendleton, Calif. with U.S. Marines, where they received pre-deployment training and refresher courses on tactical procedures.

After their training in California, the Tongans went to Kuwait to receive additional military training.

The Tongans will man the security points of the palace formally manned by Soldiers.
“We are happy to be here and work with the United States,” said Tongan Marine Sergeant Maj. Teau Filimoehala, Tongan Marine platoon sergeant. “(The Tongan Marines) are ready to work.”
Prior to their assumption, the Tongans also received right-side and left-side training to help them better understand their jobs.

In one week, the Tongans observed as Soldiers showed them what their role as guards would consist of before taking the reigns and manning their posts.

“They received force protection briefs and other security training,” said Army Sgt. 1st Class Barry Toler, Multi-National Corps–Iraq headquarters commandant.

Toler assisted in training the Tongan Marines for their current duties.

“On behalf of the Tongan Marines, we appreciate the opportunity to work with the United States,” said Tongan Marine Pvt. Oliver Kata, MNC-I security guard. “This is a new experience for some of us. If they give us more work, we will be happy to do it.”

The Kingdom of Tonga, also known as the Friendly Islands — the name given by Capt. James Cook because of the friendly reception he received there, is a conglomerate of more than 170 islands located south of Samoa.

2007-10-13T10:03:00.000-03:00

FIFTH INSTALLMENT: RIDICULOUS THINGS NANCY WANTS:

I want one of these. He's a slow loris, and he's a type of sloth. I first fell in love with these little fellas back in, like, 1998, when I was on deployment with the 11th MEU, and my friend Lori and I went to the Singapore Zoo during a port call. But how can you NOT fall in love with them? They are so cute, and they move so slowly, like little old men. Haha. Seriously, though, how cute is he? And he looks like a monkey, and everybody who knows me knows I've always wanted a monkey...but that's another story...

CELEBRITY GUEST APPEARANCE ALERT!!!

[BopadaBAH, bada bopbopbopbaaaaa!]

Coincidentally, my new friend Wilson Gil (Hi Wilson!!!) just sent me an email with a photo of him and a mamma tree sloth and baby in Costa Rica. Remember Wilson Gil from my posting of Sept 9, 2007? It seems my rock star friend had to help mom and baby across the road so they wouldn't be killed. As he says, "They move sooooo slowly." Yea, Wilson! Glad you saved those little alien monkeys.

And doubly coincidentally, I had only just recently sent this photo to Melissa to try to cheer her up when she was having an off day. Seriously, though. Aren't they CUTE?

2007-10-13T02:38:00.000-03:00

Lock and load. Me, pretending to be tough, in Dave's gear.

A word about blogging:

To put out a blog that is worthy of reading, bloggers must assume a certain amount of personal risk. If you don't put a little bit of yourself out there, your blog will be too dry to read. By exposing a little bit about yourself and who you are, you leave yourself somewhat vulnerable to anyone who might be perusing the blogosphere.

I know that, by letting some of my opinions be known, I am inviting people to disagree with me. Great! That is a risk I am willing to take, and, in fact, that's what makes blogging great. I think that's what makes people interesting: that everyone is right coming from where he or she is coming from.

Recently, I have received more and more comments from people I don't know.

This reader shared similar experiences and offered encouragement:

Anonymous said...Hang in there. I hate rockets too! I was 50 yards away from the rocket attack on 7 Dec 06 and walked away only with bruises. I know exactly what you mean about people making fun of others who don their equipment, hit the deck, etc. SCREW 'EM! You'll have a chair when the music stops and some of them won't. I remember exactly your feeling of wanting to avoid open spaces, etc. I lived in DCN and I never enjoyed that feeling of being in the trailers when their was an attack (watching movies, just like you, it's amazing how everyone's CV experience is so similar!), I always felt much safer in my ofc, which was in one of the old palaces. Hang in there and come home soon! Thursday, October 11, 2007 9:53:00 AM

Nancy said...Hey, thanks for the wonderful comment. Yes, I think we all have similar experiences here... What really struck me was how odd it was that at one end of my neighborhood, there was a hubbub of activity while rescuers and medical personel tended to casualties coming into the TMC, while on the other side, not 300m away, people were buying lattes at the Green Bean. And nobody seemed to bat an eye after 10 minutes had passed after the booms. Again, thanks for the comment. I'll get my happy a$$ home as soon as I can! Cheers. Thursday, October 11, 2007 10:02:00 AM
___________________________

This Blogger didn't like my blog at all [spelling and grammatical errors intentionally left as-is]:

Anonymous said...I see why you would want to write a blog to express what you feel and go through here on the VBC. However, you should be more aware of the info you post. You describe what you did in the after mass of it claiming that you knew more would not follow...HOW CAN YOU BE SO SURE?!!? Its almost like you taunt them. Be more aware what you place in these blogs soldiers have their lives on the line here. I see you too are a contractor well then you would know that these kind of blogs are not allowed. Being a Deputy Program Manager you should know that. You want to write and express feelings go to the Turkish shop and buy a journal. Peoples lives are on the line and people like you give them more opertunity to reach us. Stop thinking about giving people something to read and if you are only doing it for friends make it private. For everyones safty make adjustments

Saturday, October 13, 2007 2:20:00 AM

Nancy said...
[Brackets indicate additions I made to my original comment, which is posted withing the blog about the incoming we received the other night.]

Dear Anonymous,If you are going to lambaste me in my own blog, I think you should at least put your first name, so I'll know how to address you. I appreciate your desire to uphold OPSEC. I strive to do the same with every blog I write. I think you misunderstood my "I knew there wouldn't be anymore." You've probably been here, based on the info I can gleen from your comment, so you should know that once several fall and then they stop falling, it is unlikely that more will immediately fall. [Obviously there will be more attacks. I'm not an idiot. I just didn't think there would be any more booms in that volley...and I was right...there weren't. I wasn't sure. I was making an assumption. What I am sure of is the fact that making an assumption in my head about whether or not there would be more incoming and then arriving at the shelter too late didn't endanger a single person, including myself...because that assumption occurred in my head while I was putting on my flak and kevlar and heading to the shelter. I wouldn't have headed to the shelter DURING the barrage, by the way, so my assumption that no more were coming was relevant. Did you don your gear? Did you go to the shelter? Just curious. I don't know if I saw you there. And I apologize for not reading your comment more carefully. You are obviously still here as a contractor. My bad.] That's all I meant. I was saying that the incoming came in, and I got my happy ass to the shelter, even though it was highly likely that I was too late. [And do you honestly think I was "taunting" them? Try to place your emotions aside for a second and read it again, from a sane and sober mindset. And anyway, I'm pretty sure the hard-charging soldiers and Marines out there are taunting them enough (get some!); I doubt I need to.]

I want to know which portions of my blog you think give the enemy info that endangers any of us. I was a Marine. I am a patriotic American. [My husband is a Special Forces guy in-country right now.] Please don't accuse me of being anything less than someone who is trying to keep my readers filled in as much as possible. If you don't like it, then, with all due respect, don't read my blog. Or turn me in to the security manager. [If you are really concerned that I am endangering lives, then you should actually do something about it. Turn me in and let them decide. I hope you don't feel taunted.] I am highly cognizant of the type of info I put out there, not just in words, but in pictures. So thanks for your concern, but I'm going to continue as I have been. Do you seriously think I care less about everybody's safety than you do? Please reconsider your accusation, and have a nice day. [Better yet, come visit me and let's talk about my blog over a latte. BTW, I realize and appreciate that you are just trying to protect the troops and the friendly forces here; I just think you're picking on the wrong blog. Peace.]

Saturday, October 13, 2007 2:32:00 AM
______________________________________________________

And this is the sort of comment, like the first one listed above, that convinces me that I am doing the right thing and should continue to blog as usual. I got this one last night, and it made me very happy. Unfortunately, I got that negative one this morning, and it made me very sad. But now I am happy again, after re-reading Deb's comment.:

Anonymous said...Nancy-I just gotta tell you thanks for all of your blogging...my hubby is over there too and it helps to keep us back in the US updated on all the "happenings" and to see what life is really like for you all...Don't ever think your stuff is unappreciated...couldn't be farther from the truth! Keep your head down and stay safe! Thanks much! ~Deb Friday, October 12, 2007 2:33:00 PM

Nancy said...
Deb, that's the sweetest comment. Thank you. I really appreciate the encouragement, and I thank you for reading. I promise to keep blogging for you.I hope your husband comes home to you soon, safe and sound! All my best, Nancy
Friday, October 12, 2007 2:48:00 PM
_____________________

Oh, and here's a brand new one:

michele said...
I am tired of the bombs, regardless if they are bigger or smaller of the others that have been sent off prior or the ones that may be sent out later. My future husband is over in that piece of crap hole and I just wish that we could actually turn the tables around and bomb them for once and let our guys come home. Ugghh... Let some of us wives, girlfriends, mothers, or sisters go over there and I bet we could take care of it pretty quick. Sorry to rant but I want my man home in one piece and not injured at all.
Saturday, October 13, 2007 4:49:00 AM

Nancy said...
Michele,We're tired of them, too, and I want your man home in one piece, happy, healthy, and unscathed. These rockets really suck (thanks, Iran).I TOTALLY agree with you about sending the American women over here to duke it out. The bad guys wouldn't know WHAT to do with us. Haha. And my Iraqi friends agree the women could pull off some wonderful distraction maneuvers.Listen, I know your scared for your fiance. Hang in there. ;) And thanks for stopping by my blog. Feel free to rant here anytime. All my best, Nancy
Saturday, October 13, 2007 5:03:00 AM

Now I am afraid of what comments this "comment" posting will receive...

2007-10-12T02:33:00.000-03:00

RANDOM PHOTOS FROM YESTERDAY:

The crosswalk we use daily on our way to and from the office. That's a rocket hole in the left foreground.

The hole.

A car damaged by the rocket. The drivers work next door to us, and they were driving by the crosswalk when the rocket hit. Thankfully, it missed them.

Glass from the car; the hole's in the background.

Whew. The helos are here. All's safe. :)

The sunset over my office. I'm headed home.

A pink flower near the crosswalk on my walk home.

The bridge to my home. My trailer is within the walls on the left.

This is the wall that keeps my neighborhood beautiful.

THIS MORNING'S WAKEUP CALL:

The Muslims were singing in force today. It was really loud. All the mosques were unleashing the full gusto of their "Allah Akbar"s from the minarets.

2007-10-12T02:25:00.000-03:00

A SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT TO A MUCH-APPRECIATED READER OF NII (NANCY IN IRAQ):

HI BOB! THANKS FOR READING!!! (I'm glad you find me funnier than Melissa...HAHAHA)

Now, to answer your questions:

1. Was my friend Melissa wearing anything approaching safety protection?
A: Only if you consider shorts and a T-shirt safe. I do think she was wearing bug repellant.
2. Why was she not answering her phone?
A: Her phone doesn't work. I had forgotten. I thought it was because cells are not allowed in the chow hall.
3. Why does she feel the need to downplay everything?
A: This is a personality quirk (I almost said disorder) of hers. She is not a sensationalist. We probably wouldn't love her so much if she were.
4. Can you please smack her up the side of the head with something heavy.
A: Well, I whacked her unexpectedly with my fly swatter. Couldn't bring myself to use something heavy...

2007-10-11T05:59:00.000-03:00

ATTENTION!!! I RECOMMEND VIEWING THE COMMENTS ON THIS POSTING!!!

Well, we had another rocket attack last night here at Camp Victory (and Liberty). Smaller rockets than the one that killed the TCN Sept 11, but there were more of them...I was watching Roswell in my trailer when it happened. I heard a boom, felt the trailer shake, and heard several more, with the "incoming" alarm sounding in the distance.

I put on my flak and kevlar and went out to the shelter, even though I knew there wouldn't be anymore incoming. We took acountability, so I went to the baby DFAC to find Melissa and Dan when I couldn't reach Mel's cell. I was relieved to see that the building was unharmed, because I really couldn't tell where the rockets hit since I'd been wearing headphones when they came in. I knew people were hurt, though, when I saw the flurry of activity at the medical clinic near where I live. Damn. I'm glad all my teammies are fine. Our thoughts and prayers go out to those who weren't as lucky, and to their families and friends. :(

When the details are releasable, I might tell you a little more about the attack.

Here's an excerpt from an email response to my concerned mother in law, who heard a brief report on the news that said there was an attack but offered zero details (much love to you, Carole):

"Sorry, I should have sent out an email. When in doubt, check my blog...I am fine. My heart skips a beat every time I hear a boom, or a car door slam, or a trailer door being closed with too much gusto, but I am fine. Admittedly, it is getting a lot scarier out here...I have vowed to avoid high-traffic areas, and I have even considered moving into the duck-and-cover shelter, permanently. Haha. I even donned my flak and kevlar last night before going to the shelter to join all my trailer park neighbors. I am getting rather annoyed with people making fun of people who hit the deck, go to the shelter, don battle gear, or attempt to protect themselves in some other fashion. I don't want to be the idiot who could have saved herself but didn't...I also wear my seatbelt when I am in an automobile. Same principle."

A general question: What kind of religion celebrates by killing people? I honestly want to know; I am not making fun of the religion. I know Christianity has its fair shares of historical shinanigans, too. Yesterday marked the day that Mohammad received the first verse of the Koran (for Sunnis), and today and tomorrow mark the end of Ramadan for Shi'ia and Sunnis, respectively (I am pretty sure).

The Associated Press
BAGHDAD Oct 11, 2007 (AP)

A rocket or mortar attack on the main U.S. base near Baghdad killed two members of the U.S.-led coalition forces and wounded 40 people, the military said Thursday.

The attack occurred Wednesday at the Camp Victory, a sprawling garrison that houses the headquarters of American forces in Iraq, according to a statement.

Two coalition force members were killed and 38 wounded, the military said. It also said two "third country nationals" were wounded. It did not identity them further, but military spokesman Lt. Col. Rudolph Burwell said the term usually refers to foreign contractors and not Iraqis or Americans.

The attack is under investigation, the statement said.

Most troops stationed at Camp Victory are American but other coalition soldiers are based at the complex near Baghdad International Airport. No further details on the attack were immediately released.

Camp Victory and other U.S. bases in Iraq have frequently come under fire, but attacks with such a large number of casualties are rare.

On Sept. 11, one person was killed and 11 were wounded in a rocket attack. The U.S. military said a 240 mm rocket provided to Shiite extremists by Iran was used in that attack.

The U.S.-protected Green Zone, which houses the American and British embassies and the Iraqi government headquarters, is far more vulnerable as it is situated in central Baghdad.
Copyright 2007 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

BREAK, BREAK_____________________________________________

FYI, This is an interesting video from September 13. It shows a 107 mm rocket impact in Baghdad. I guess this is what they look like...Below is the news release.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASERELEASE No. 20070915-12September 15, 2007
Insurgent rocket attack kills 2 eastern Baghdad residents, wounds 2 others 2nd IBCT, 2nd Inf. Div. Public Affairs Multi-National Division – Baghdad PAOFORWARD OPERATING BASE LOYALTY, Iraq – Two eastern Baghdad residents were killed and two more wounded in an insurgent rocket attack in the New Baghdad District Sept. 13.

One 107mm rocket impacted in an intersection near Forward Operating Base Loyalty, striking a car and engulfing it in flames. Soldiers with the 1st Battalion, 8th Cavalry Regiment, attached to the 2nd Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 2nd Infantry Division, responded to the blast and cordoned off the area. The wounded were transported to Medical City for treatment.

Explosive ordnance detachment Soldiers determined the impact was due to a rocket strike and recovered part of the rocket. Insurgents have regularly targeted Iraqi civilians, soldiers and police officers as well as Coalition Forces. During the month of September, there have been 45 confirmed indirect fire attacks by criminal militia members in Baghdad security districts. Twenty of these attacks occurred in the New Baghdad or East Rashid Districts. Besides the two civilians killed and wounded in the Sept. 13 attack, 11 Iraqi Police officers have been wounded in four separate attacks this month.

ATTENTION!!! I RECOMMEND VIEWING THE COMMENTS ON THIS POSTING!!! CLICK BELOW!!!

2007-10-11T05:09:00.000-03:00

This is the second photo I took with Bret Michaels. The first one wasn't great, so he insisted on another. He was awesome. His handlers were trying to get him to knock off signing autographs to go do some other gig he was scheduled for, but he wouldn't leave until every last person got their hat, guitar, paper, reflective belt, t-shirt, poster, orders, or whatever other crazy thing they could scrounge up signed by the legendary rocker.

The Camp Stryker crowd rocking out with former Poison front man Bret Michaels.

Sunday night, Melissa, Dan and I decided to drive over to Camp Stryker to see Bret Michaels of Poison perform. Admittedly, the main reason we went was to witness what we suspected would be a full-on train wreck. None of us knew a lot about Bret Michaels (no slam against him; we just aren’t very savvy), so we figured he was probably some old has-been who couldn’t find any gigs better than the Iraq Tour 2007. I guess we just didn’t expect a good solo guy who used to sing for a #1 American metal band to bother to come and play for us.

Well, I have to publicly apologize, from the depths (the very cockles, actually) of my heart, to Mr. Bret Michaels. I am adding him to my list of honored celebrities who are great Americans and worthy of praise and patronage. Not only did he put on a thoroughly kick-ass concert, but he stayed afterward (for, like, well over an hour) to sign all of the ridiculous items soldiers thrust at him, and to take picture after picture with cammie-clad fans. I, for one, was NOT cammie-clad, and yet he made it a point to get a good photo with me—and he even complimented my “kick-ass” KISS t-shirt. Thanks, Bret! I am so sorry I mentally dissed you pre-performance.

We had an awesome time rocking out with the Camp Stryker crowd. They looked and sounded awesome. Bret’s solo band is very, very good, and they were sweet and accommodating to signature/photo-hungry fans, too. They played all the hits, plus some new ones, and they even played some KISS. I guess Bret’s guitarist is a huge fan, because he sang, “I wanna rock and roll all night, and party every day.” It was awesome, especially since I was in my KISS shirt. After the concert, I was minding my own business, and some soldiers tapped me on the shoulder and directed my attention to the guitarist, who was trying to compliment me on the shirt. Haha.

We all had a total blast at the concert, and I was still sort of in awe of how cool those guys were the next morning when I went to work. Bret signed a copy of my orders, which I intend to put in a protective sleeve as soon as I can find one. J

Thanks again for coming all the way out to Iraq to rock the Coalition Forces! We love you for that.

A portion of "Every Rose."

Melissa and Bret Michaels.

2007-10-10T05:00:00.000-03:00

Virgin Radio's Christian O'Connell.

So, Melissa streams Virgin Radio on her laptop during the day, and we sort of half listen to it while we work. Well, there is a morning show (breakfast show) by a rather brilliant guy named Christian O'Connell, and whenever they have a celebrity on the line, they play this “Ahooogah” sound effect siren that remotely resembles the start of our incoming alarm. Very remotely. And only if the volume is low. But I commented on it yesterday, telling Melissa I really hate that alarm because it makes me think I should be hitting the deck to avoid certain death. Actually, a lot of sounds make me think that. For instance on that same day, Melissa had her volume up on her laptop, listening to Virgin Radio, and I kept on hearing a sort of bell-like noise that made me think that either (a) my ears were ringing, (b) the incoming alarm was sounding in a distant part of the base, or (c) there was a major issue confronting the soldier character in the XBOX game being played on the other side of our thin walls. But, alas, it was none of those things; it was Melissa’s instant message incoming sound. I could hear the joking now: Melissa receives an instant message, and Nancy dives under her desk, cowering.

Anyway, so, after I commented to Melissa about my extreme dislike of the Virgin Radio celebrity “Ahooogah” sound effect (the real reason simply being that is extremely annoying), she wrote Christian an email to tell him about it. We don’t have the outgoing message, but it went something like this: “Dear Christian, we listen to your show from Baghdad, and we noticed that your “Who’s Calling Christian” alarm sounds an awful lot like the “incoming” warning alarm here (incoming” referring to bullets, mortars, rockets, or anything else the enemy is trying to kill us with). So, every time someone calls your show, my colleague Nancy hits the deck thinking someone is trying to blow her up. She’s getting very mad at me for listening to your show, so perhaps you could find a new sound effect.”

That was yesterday. Well, this morning, Melissa was listening to the radio again when, suddenly, Christian started READING HER EMAIL. We freaked out as he read the whole thing and then said he would look for something new. So, of course, Melissa promptly called the show. And she actually got through! So, she introduced herself, live from Baghdad, and talked to Christian for a moment, then handed me the phone. I had no idea they (we) were live on the air. When I got on, he played the sound effect, and I obliged him by screaming and then banging the phone on the desk as if I’d hit the deck. Melissa got back on the line and let him know that I was cowering under my desk and was very distraught. Hilarious.

Christian’s entire morning show was about sound effects, and he is even holding a contest to pick a new one. It seems Melissa had provided Christian with all the fodder he needed for an entire show. Throughout the day, he kept playing the alarm and telling his listeners about those of us in Baghdad who are hitting the deck (all two of us who are actually listening in Baghdad). My suggestion for Christian's new sound effect was the “fix bayonets” bugle music, which I loudly performed in the background while Melissa talked to him on the phone. I didn’t know that his intent in getting me on the phone was to record me performing the sound effect so he could play it every time they had a celeb on the line. Dang. I would have done it if I’d known. Oh well. Apparently, they are going to send us a bunch of swag for being on the air with them. BopbadaBAAH, bop badaBAH! Bop badabopba, bop badabopba, bop badabababa! Bop bada ba ba ba ba BA!

UPDATE: I have sent Christian the following message, in hopes that he might start using the sound bite I thought of last night:

Dear Christian,

I am Melissa's colleague in Iraq, the one who greatly dislikes your Ahoooogah! celebrity-on-the-line alarm. Rather than juts complain about how it sounds like our "incoming" alarm, I figured I'd send along a possible solution for you to consider.

I rather like Maury Ballstein's "bopbadaba, badabahbahbahbaaaaaaah" from the movie Zoolander. It might work for your showgram.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

Cheers,

Nancy (In Iraq)

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2007-10-08T08:55:00.000-03:00

If you look at the Weather Channel's forecast for today, you'll notice it says, "Smoke." That is, no doubt, a result of the tire burning that is going on right here, right now. It blackened the sky yesterday, and it continues today. I know it seems bad, but we are generally pretty good stewards of the environment...

Actually, look at the picture I took at noon today. It's clear again. No more smokey.

A movie from yesterday. Those are bats flying by.

Today, no more smokey.

2007-10-08T04:45:00.000-03:00

FOURTH INSTALLMENT: RIDICULOUS THINGS NANCY WANTS

A Ditto Machine!!! I love the nostalgic smell, and I want my kids to know the smell, too.

Anybody my age (34) or older should remember the lovely Ditto machine and its yummy purple copies. Remember when the teacher would come back from the teachers’ office with a stack of quizzes or worksheets, fresh off the copier? She’d hand them out, and if we were lucky, they would still feel cold and wet. We would all immediately hold them to our noses and inhale, deeply, before the spirit duplicator fluid dried and the stink dissipated (we didn’t know what it was; we just loved the way it stunk). I sat near the front of the row so I’d get to sniff the whole stack. DEEE-LICIOUS!!! There was no smell better than that. It could almost make even pop quizzes seem enjoyable.
It breaks my heart that people as old as my coworker, Dan, 25, never experienced the wonder of the Ditto Machine. So, I want one. They are hard to find, but they do, in fact, still exist. We had one in the math building at USNA as late as 1995. I wonder if it is still there….

2007-10-07T17:10:00.001-03:00

Award winners, all lined up. I look like the Great White Amazon Woman. Besides that difference, notice any other way in which I don't quite fit in? I'm the ONLY non-Army (hooyah, Marine Corps) in the top five men and women.

[Photo by Staff Sergeant Lorie Jewel, MNF-I Command Group Photojournalist]

This would've been a much better photo had I not been going, "Wooooo!" Notice the double shaka, though.

[Photo by Staff Sergeant Lorie Jewel, MNF-I Command Group Photojournalist]

Today was a good day. I had been tossing around the idea of running the Camp Victory satellite version of the Army 10 Miler, but I was nervous because I hadn't trained for it at all. Last year, I ran the same race on the very last day of my yearlong tour here. I got third place, showered, and hopped onto a plane headed home. That was one year ago today.

I knew I needed to run today, for old time's sake, but I like to do well, and I haven't been running very much; I've just not been motivated lately. But I was registered, and some people who wanted to run didn't get to, because the event "sold out." So I had to run. And anyway, I would have kicked myself if I'd cheesed out of it.

Well, I'm glad I did run, because I ended up placing first out of all the women. I got a plaque and everything! Here is my long-winded, run-on, braggy version of the story. I think you'll be able to tell that I am abnormally proud of myself.

I was really pacing myself, because I knew I hadn't been running more than 3.5 miles, and even worse, I hadn't run more than a couple of times per week for the past month or so. So, I was thinking I should run about 7:45 or 8 min pace (my 3.5-mile pace is 7:06/mile). But we started out at around 6:30-6:45, and it took about 3 miles to finally start slowing down and settling in. And then I just wanted to cruise and keep the girl who was ahead of me within striking distance.

I was feeling good, and I discovered that if I thought about Dave's recent visit, I didn't notice the run at all. Around Mile 4, a girl passed me, putting me in 3rd place. I knew for a fact both girls were good runners, because I had seen them before (they look like runners), and I raced against them in the 5K I ran when I arrived here. Of course, I crushed them mercilessly then, but a 5k runner and a 10 miler are not the same animal. So I thought it could be tough to beat them.

I ran along and tried to keep my HR below 165, preferably right at 160. I was chatting with a couple of guys who were near me, just to pass the time. It was windy, so I drafted whenever I could. The turnaround point was the top of Signal Hill, at Mile 6, and I was feeling good. I had gained on both girls, significantly. At the base of the hill, a group of people were yelling for the runners who were heading up, and I heard them yell, "Yay! First female! Good job!" to the lead girl. I was right on the second girl's heels, and I thought it would be cool to be completely relaxed and smiling. So I smiled all the way up the hill, hot on Number 2's heels and gaining on Number 1. But I don't like to waste energy running uphill, and I was trying not to let Number 2 know I was there.

Unfortunately, the slow pace forced me to pull up alongside her. We chatted a little. I told her to go get that girl. She said she was hoping I would. I told her that's not my thing. She started speeding up, and I let her go. I didn't want to run near her, and I didn't want to push the pace before Mile 8. So I just relaxed and stayed within striking distance of both of them.

We were still gaining on Number 1. She wasn't more than 50 yds ahead, and that's where I wanted to keep her.

It was windy along the stretch below Z Lake, where it goes past the helo pad. I drafted as much as possible. By Mile 7, I could no longer stay behind Number 2; she was too slow. So I went ahead and passed her right before Mile 8 started (at the traffic circle). People were yelling, "Way to go, second and third female" as we ran by, so I couldn't sneak up on her, anyway. I told her good job as I passed, and she told me the same. She was nice.

I didn't want to do it, but just past Mile 8 (along the road behind the Palace, where the Brit house is), I got on Number 1's heels. She's about 4.5 ft tall, so she was no good for drafting, plus, she was too slow! I pulled up next to her and said, "Great job running up front this whole time." She didn't reply. Either she didn't understand what I said, or she wasn't overly nice, and she was definitely not chatty. So I decided to stomp her.

I picked up the pace to around 6:45 and left her in the dust. I figured I'd have to hold that pace all the way in, so I was glad when I saw we were turning left on the road that heads south past the Aussie pool and my office. I held it pretty well, although I sometimes sank back toward 7-minute pace. We ran down the road toward that tower with the lights on it that someone used to live in, and we turned left to head toward the finish at the Big Chow parking lot.

There were two Army chicks at the tower yelling for the runners. "Girl power!" they yelled. After I turned the corner, I was able to glance to my left, up the road I'd just run down, to see if I was in any danger from a finish sprinter. I couldn't even see those girls. I was home free.

The swing-style Army band that absolutely love was playing, and I ran as fast as I could across the finish, throwing two "shakas" with my hands, Hawaiian surfer style. I hope the photographers caught it. I was all smiles and acting silly, just to show I wasn't tired from that wimpy race. Haha. I talk a lot of crap.

Anyway, this is the amazing thing. I wear a Garmin 305 when I run, and it records my pace, heart rate, splits, distance, etc, etc. I have runs stored in there from the first day I wore it, and the first day I wore it happened to have been right here in Baghdad, last year. So, guess what run I was able to pull up? Yep. Last year's 10-miler. This is what is so amazing:

Last year's finish time and avg speed: 1:12:22; 7:17

This year's finish time and avg speed: 1:12:49; 7:21

How about THEM apples?!! I am nothing if not consistent. I guess I really do have pretty much one speed. Crazy. Absolutely, positively nuts. Hmm. So, I ran slower, but I placed higher. The competition this year just isn't what it used to be, but it still felt good to finish ahead of those two Army captains. Hahahaha. Not bad for an old lady...

Receiving my award from Brigadier General Joseph Anderson, Chief of Staff, Multinational Corps-Iraq. This guy is a stud. A 1981 USMA grad, infantryman, warrior, master parachutist, Ranger, Pathfinder, Air Assault, and owner of Panamanian, Brazilian, German, and Thai Jump wings. He is an avid runner, and I reckon he ran at least 10 miles zipping around the course to yell for the runners. Very cool, and very motivating. Check out the bio: www.mnci.centcom.mil/leaders/Biography-Anderson.pdf.

[Photo by Staff Sergeant Lorie Jewel, MNF-I Command Group Photojournalist]

This year's prize: a plaque. Look back at Oct 7, 2006, and you'll see last year's prize: an Iraqi flag with embroidery on it.

2007-10-06T11:27:00.000-03:00

THIRD INSTALLMENT: RIDICULOUS THINGS NANCY WANTS:

Night vision goggles...

David.

Me.

My neighborhood.

2007-10-06T10:57:00.000-03:00

First picture, taken upon arrival at the airfield.

My warrior. We were playing with the NVGs and his IR stuff.

Honeymoon in Baghdad.

Sounds like a movie title. And it doesn’t sound like a half bad movie title, does it?

After my second failed attempt to fly to Ramadi to see Dave, he booked himself on a flight to Baghdad. He was determined to see me, and his commanding officer was determined to improve Dave’s sour mood. It seems everybody would soon benefit from a flight of Marine Corps CH-46’s. Ooh, rah, Marines.

Dave arrived at the Liberty helipad Wednesday evening, and I couldn’t believe it when I saw him walking toward me out of the darkness. He looked like Splinter Cell with all his special tactical gear on. I wanted to run and jump into his arms and squeeze him, but there were a lot of people around, and public displays of affection just are not done here. So we went for pizza. It was good pizza, too, from a place on Liberty I just discovered, Called North End Pizza…Now back to the story…

We had a ton of fun. It was very surreal having my HUSBAND here, touring him around my home away from home. The last time we saw each other was when I told him goodbye in the SEAL Team 7 parking lot in Coronado April 16th!!! I showed him my old stomping grounds, my old trailer, where my tent used to be. I was here for a year, and all Dave got to experience was what I was able to explain to him through conversation, blogs, and photos. Now he was here, experiencing it with me, and it was awesome. We were both quite taken aback by it all.

I loved walking around with him. Everybody was staring at his cool weapon, and his S.E.A.L. pin, and his fancy spec ops gear. He notified me whenever any of the boys were checking me out (it happens when you are one of VERY few civilian chicks around here), but I think he got checked out just as much by the chickies, and his weapon got checked out more than either of us…

I introduced him to my crew, some of whom (Shane and Haidar) he’d been hearing about since last year, and I even got to introduce him to my sweetie from last year, Sabah. It was really cool.

We went to the baby chow hall for yummy sandwiches, and we went to steak and lobster at the big chow hall. He saw my sitting-duck office in mortarville/rocketville. We toured the palace, and we went to the PX, and we drove around Lost Lake (too lazy to actually run). We watched at least four bootleg movies in my trailer, we went to the Green Bean for coffee, and we basically just had fun goofing off for two days.

I told him I thought it was probably more relaxing and fun here than it would have been if I'd visited him in Ramadi, and he said Ramadi would have been better. I didn't believe him. He said, "But everything is right there, and they bring food to us." And I didn't think that sounded too exciting. But then he said, "We're right on the river." That sounded good, but I wasn't really convinced that could make it better than Victory. I mean, we have lakes. Then he said, "The range is right there, and we could fire AK-47's and 50 calibre sniper rifles." He had me at AK, but the sniper rifles are what really float my boat. I am really pissed that I never became a sniper, because I think I'd have been a darn good one...

So, it was a wonderful honeymoon, and we’ll have our second one when I get home in a couple of months. We’re thinking about Hawaii. Dave will be home in a couple of weeks, and he’ll start working on the house while I am still over here. Soon enough, we’ll be back together again in awesome San Diego. Woohoo! I can hardly wait! Thanks to this recent visit, I might actually make it through the next two months without losing my mind.

Oh, and as for PDA when I dropped him off at the airport? Well, I didn't really care who was there to see me give him a quick smooch before watching him walk off into the darkness to board an awaiting Blackhawk. So there!

2007-10-01T10:20:00.000-03:00

THINGS NANCY HATES: ROCKETS

I strategically chose this photo because it doesn't give away any details that the enemy might find useful. But that smoke is pretty close, eh? No, I am not going to give hints about the location of my office--ever!

Well, we just had our second too-close-for-comfort rocket attack. We were in our office trailer, and we heard a rocket, then the incoming alarm, then a boom. We all hit the deck as soon as we heard the boom and the alarm, which were almost simultaneous. We waited until enough time had passed that we thought we were safe from being caught by a second rocket on our way to the shelter. By the time we got out there, all the military and civilians who work out here in the overflow trailers were there checking it out. There was a plume of dark smoke not 200 yds away.

When the rocket flew over (again, it went right over our trailers), Melissa had been on the phone with her boyfriend in DC. We all hit the deck, and she hung up on him. He was worried when the phone went dead, but I think it was better that it went dead then and not after we said, "Hit the deck! Stay down! Ok, now let's go to the shelter." Incidentally, when we were down on the dirty floor of our trailer, covering our heads with our hands as if it might help, the walls shook very hard. The magnetic eraser was knocked off of our white erase board, and it hit me in the leg. I think a marker and some other stuff fell, too. When it hit my leg, I actually thought it might be shrapnel coming in through our trailer walls. Haha. Some tough Marine I am!

I think I twisted my ankle a little, either hitting the deck, or running to the shelter. A lot of people complained of rug burns. I don't think those injuries qualify us for any awards or anything...unfortunately...haha.

Anyway, we hate rockets, and that's all I have to say about that!

2007-10-01T03:10:00.001-03:00

RIDICULOUS THINGS NANCY WANTS, INSTALLMENT TWO:

One of my favorite animals in the world is the camel, one-hump or two. Doesn't matter to me.

I mean, seriously. How CUTE are they? My love affair with the camel began, I think, back in 1998, when I was a Marine visiting Dubai. My friends and I went on a 4x4 trip into the desert, and then we went to a sort of caravan feast thingy, and there were camels there. They just looked so cute and pathetic, and I felt so sorry for them and their miserable lives. They are definitely well adapted to their dry, sandy desert lives, but they still look sad to be there. Their noses can close to keep sand out, and their long, beautiful eyelashes serve the same purpose. They have those big, cute, clumsy feet that spread out like snowshoes to keep them buoyant in the sand, and their knobby knees are just too cute. I love them, and I want one. I don't feel like this is too outrageous of a want, because people in SoCal do keep camels, llamas, and alpacas. The alpaca, by the way, is another ridiculous thing Nancy wants...

This camel is in Australia. They were brought over by settlers, and now they are wild and spread across the outback in thousands. We saw many of them, dead and alive, during my Drive Around the World expedition, when we drove across Australia on the Gunbarrel Highway.

2007-10-01T02:20:00.000-03:00

Well...The 29th marked my and Dave's SECOND failed attempt at a visit. I was supposed to hop onto helicopter flight to Ramadi Saturday to go and visit him at his "home." Well, the original flight his air guy tried to arrange was jacked up by the FOB air guys, and they ended up scheduling me on two flights, with an overnight layover God knows where. So, Dave and his air guy cancelled that one and told me to go Space A on a direct flight from Liberty to Ramadi. I went to our helipad in the late afternoon to put myself on the waiting list, and I signed in as standby passenger number 7. I was tickled to discover it would be a Marine air flight, which meant CH-46's. (I was tickled to fly with the Marines, but I am NOT AT ALL fond of the CH-46, since I'd almost ended up in the Pacific Ocean in one of those in my USMC days, and they are older than I am). I was psyched about the prospect of flying with the Marines one last time (I resigned from active duty in 2000, and my resignation from the reserves just became effective July 1, 2007).

Well, alas, my flight with the Marines was not to be. They are very busy with units turning over right now (my brother's unit just redeployed back home to Hawaii...yay!), so they didn't have any room in their helo. They didn't take any standby passengers at all. Dang.

So, for the second time in a row, I had stood in line in the middle of the night, in the dark, waiting to board a helicopter to Ramadi, and for the second time in a row, I stood in vain. I called my buddy Shane, and he picked me up and dropped me off at my hooch, where I unpacked...again. The thing was, I hadn't allowed myself to get my hopes up too much about going to visit Dave, so I didn't really have them dashed. I was disappointed, of course, but I know this stuff just happens, and it always happens for a reason.

The first time I was supposed to go visit, my flight was all messed up. For some reason, I as scheduled as leaving from the wrong base. So, there was a lot of confusion, and the staff sergeant said I could get on the Ramadi flight that was supposed to fly through the Green Zone. So I was going to fly to the IZ, or the Green Zone, from Liberty. Luckily, that flight was cancelled due to weather, or postponed, or something, and I took my name off the list. It's a good thing I did that, because there was no flight to Ramadi from the IZ, and I would have ended up stuck dodging mortars and rockets there all night. See? Everything happens for a reason.

So, it looks like Dave might actually get to come here to visit ME. He has a flight arranged, and I won't get my hopes up, but I have a good feeling about this one. I'll let you know how that goes!

2007-09-29T10:14:00.000-03:00

This is a cool Iraqi song by Hussam Alrasam and some other Iraqi singers. Sorry I don't know their names. The song is (or was) all the rage when Iraq won the Asia Cup this year for the first time in history.

2007-09-28T06:00:00.000-03:00

I like this pic of the palace janitor. It captures sort of how I feel right now. :)

I have very, very little to blog about, and I feel kinda bad about that. It's just that I am somewhat wallowing in self pity right now. It is so terribly boring here, and there is some really gross smudgy stuff on the port-a-potty hand-sanitizer dispenser. So, not even the sanitizer is sanitary. Dang.

But there is a lot to be stoked about here, too.

First of all, I must discuss the wonderful change in weather we are experiencing. The temperatures when we got here were constantly hovering around the 120 Fahrenheit mark. That is, well, really hot, obviously, and we therefore did not like it. Some people like it, and I am not all too delighted to point out that one of those crazies is my husband, Dave, who had hoped to set a world heat record while in Iraq but didn't even come close (nahnahnahnahnah). Temperatures gradually started coming down a few degrees as August turned into September. Now, as we prepare to welcome October with open arms, we are experiencing relatively blustery highs of only 100-103!!! It was so chilly yesterday (at around 100) that I wore jeans and even considered wearing long sleeves in the cool 70 to 80-degree morning! I can hardly wait until we dip below 100 and stay there. I did bring long sleeves and a jacket, and I will be psyched to wear them. I just hope the wet weather holds off until we are all home in the U.S., the greatest country in all the world.

So, let's see, what else is there to tell you....?

Well, I wasn't gonna say anything until after the fact, but I'm in a gambling mood. I might be seeing Dave soon, for a couple of days. We had made plans a few weeks ago, too, but those fell through, so I hope it works out this time. I'll let you know later about the details!

What else, what else? Last night, Melissa and teammate John and I went to the British House for trivia night. It was pretty fun. It made me homesick, though, because, when we are both home, Dave and I go to trivia night at the Dublin Square in San Diego's Gaslamp Quarter ever Tuesday night. It's really fun, because I get all possesive of the question sheets, and I get all impatient and mad when Dave let's regular patron Sam hold the sheets for too long, wasting our precious time. Haha. Sometimes I can be a real turd. It's a good thing Dave thinks I'm cute when I do that. Teeheehee. He's good like that...

Anyhow, things are actually pretty good. We're both making great money for our savings. Dave will be home in October, and I'll follow a month later, and then we'll finally be able to enjoy our cute little house in San Diego. Yay! I can HARDLY wait!!!

Me in my new dream car...

My new dream car. Haha. This $250K fully armored vehicle looks cool, but it is a slow, piggy diesel, and it is too heavy to go off road without being totally bogged down. But how sick would it be in downtown LA!? I totally want one. This will be the first in a series I will call, "Ridiculous things Nancy wants now."

2007-09-22T02:18:00.000-03:00

Obviously, I still don't have a camera that works. I took this picture of Melissa the day we arrived in Kuwait. We thought it was a rather hilarious "Welcome to Baghdad" article for us. What do you think?

HEY! Guess what?! I got a trailer.

I was at work when I received an email notification that I'd been assigned a trailer and that I was to report to the Dodge City North BIlleting Office to sign for it.

For the past week, I had been very nervous about my impending trailer assignment. Trailer assignment is nerve wracking because you just never know what you're going to get. For the longest time, Melissa and I held onto the hope that we'd get assigned to the brand new trailers opening up near our office. Those hopes were dashed recently when I asked who was getting them and was promptly notified that those would all be for the Army's 3rd ID, only. Bummer. But I still hoped that maybe I would be soooo very lucky as to get a trailer in Red Leg, or maybe Freedom Village, or even Dodge North. But my fear was that I was much more likely to get a hooch way the heck out in BFE, like, near Lost Lake or something.

The last time I was here, I was assigned three different trailers before I finally found one to be satisfactory enough to actually move into it. Actually, the first one I got was way too far away and in the middle of a mud swamp with no internet. After a couple of weeks, I gave up on it, moved back into the tents, and put myself on the bottom of the waiting list. When the second one was assigned, I was sick from eating Iraqi food and missed the 72 hour window I had to pick up my keys. The third one was great, even though I only lived in it for a few months before leaving town.

Well, when I received my trailer notification, Melissa, Shane, and I all went to seek out my fate. When we walked in, I noticed that one of the shower/toilets custodians I used to know had been promoted to billeting. "Nancy!" she exclaimed gleefully as I walked in. "You're back. Nice to see you!" We caught up on old times very quickly while she looked for my billeting assignment. While we were doing that, another KBR lady in the billeting office said, "Weren't you here before?" Yes, yes, I was here before. And I was as difficult then as I am now, so give me a good trailer before I have a coniption fit!

When the billeteer said my trailer was in Dodge City South, I crumbled. Dodge South?! That is the worst, most awful, most desolate, shabbiest trailer park in all of Victory. That's where poor LB lived the last time we were here. The only good thing about her pad was that she didn't have a roommate.

We left with our heads hanging low to go scope out my hooch. Well, we were pleasantly surprised to learn that I was on the end of the trailer park nearest the chow hall, PX, and civilization. Yea! And then we opened the door. NO ROOMMATE!!! Cooool. The only drag would be the long wait for internet equipment so I could get online and chat with Dave at night.

I moved a few items in and rearranged things so that I would have the best mattress and the best wall locker if a roommate decided to move in, and then I went back to the tents. I didn't want to move in for good until the net was available to me. The next day, I decided to spend the night there just to try and get a good night's sleep, as I had been horribly tired (exhausted) and needed some undisturbed rest. After I'd settled in for the night, I tried the internet. IT WORKED! It actually worked great, and without special equipment! (Normally, special receivers/boosters/somethingorothers are needed to fight through the huge T barriers put around the trailers to protect us from indirect/direct fire. Thankfully, my trailer lacks sufficient bomb protection! Yay!)

Well, that settled it. I moved all my stuff in yesterday, and I am never going back to the tents again. I still don't have a roommate, although the billeting lady (another one I know from last year) said a girl signed for the key a few days before I did). Melissa is the very next person on the list, and I hope her trailer is near mine. I also hope she doesn't have a roommate. If my roomie decides to move in, I'll try to convince her to trade with Melissa so that Mel and I can be roommies. Mel would've moved in already if she weren't scared my legitimate roommate would move in later and kick her out.

So, that's that. My new pad is awesome. Life is good. If I want to, I can make it cold enough to snow in there. I love it. I have a new lease on life. The only problem is, I now want to spend all my time there. It's a hundred times nicer than the poo-hole we work in...

2007-09-19T02:52:00.000-03:00

Old friends Paul, Ami, and Nancy. The three of us used to hang out when I was here before. Paul and Ami have been here for ages, and Ami is going to a different FOB next week, after nearly 3 years at Victory. Paul saved my life once when I was choking. We're also three of the five original members of Flak Club. I love these guys.

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I have been cranky, and my mom told me, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." I'm not sure why I am cranky, exactly. I think I it is just that I'm sick of this place. For my USNA friends and those who know the vernacular, "IHTFP!" We have been bored lately, and that is a bad thing to be here. It's best to be busy so that time flies by quickly. The days have been dragging on lately.

Anyway, let's see...what's new?

Saturday night, Melissa and I were walking to a party at a friend's trailer, out by Lost Lake, when we heard the incoming alarm. We didn't know where the duck-and-cover shelters were out there, so we kept walking. All of a sudden, off to our left (north), the base's defense system fired a volley of rounds into the sky. We could see the bee-line of rounds go from left to right. Then we saw some sparkles, heard a big boom off to the far left, and a small boom off to the right. I won't way what was fired at us this time, but suffice it to say our defense system did what it was supposed to, and Melissa and I got to actually watch it happen. SOOOO cool. We were all high fiving and slapping each other's backs like we were war heroes or something. Haha. Anyway, I hope I get to see it again, IF if happens again, which it will, but not that I want it to happen again. (I am aware of the grammatical impropriety of that sentence.)

What else, what else?

Last night, I was sleeping very soundly due to a bit of illness I think I am fighting off. I had gone to bed at 8 pm. Two hours later, still sleeping soundly, I think I heard and felt a tiny boom. I can't be sure, though, if I really heard or felt anything, because I was wearing my earplugs and blindfold, per SOP, and kept on sleeping. Suddenly, I was rousted out of my slumber by cries of "GET UP! GET UP!!!"

I groggily removed my blindfold to see the whole tent (except for sleeping and disgusted Melissa) in a tissy to get outside and grab protective gear (reverse that order). I got up and went to the toilet, pointing out the location of the bomb shelter to all who were interested, and then went back to bed. Every other tent was pitch black and sleeping soundly while ours was alit and scurrying about frantically. When you think about it, it's really quite funny. I don't want to make the ones who woke us up feel bad, because they were trying fervently to save our lives, but this is Iraq. Things go BOOM! in the night. The protocol is to just ignore it, since there is nothing we can do about it, anyway. Booms happen all around us, and the vast majority are very far away, so get over it. I remember returning to San Diego after my year here before and hearing a big boom outside of Dave's apartment building. It was a garbage truck messing about with dumpsters, but I defaulted to "mortar or IED" in my mind, casually wondering which it was before realizing that things that go boom in the U.S. are almost always neither. SOOOOOOO, don't worry about us, becasue booms here are just booms, too, and I suspect last night's was a controlled detonation. No worries. We ain't skeered.

What else, what else? Um....Oh yes!!! I know. This is important, and it is part of my excuse for my blogging lull. My camera broke. Yep. It sure did. So, now I am unable to post new pics. I guess I will recycle older pics until I go to visit Dave and steal his camera back from him. Actually, it's my old camera, which I sent to Dave to replace the camera that HE broke. The one I broke Saturday is my NEW camera. So, that's just our luck. Electronics are in danger in our posession...Must be a Salisbury thing...

XOXO

2007-09-13T07:51:00.000-03:00

I don't know what they used to fire the missile at us, but it def. wasn't one of these. I just want you to see what one of these 240mm missiles looks like. Big enough for ya? IT WAS A HUUUUGE ONE! And we know EXACTLY what it sounds like just before it impacts its target.

More about the rocket attack that we witnessed here Sept 11.:

CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE ABOUT IRANIAN WEAPONS LIKE THE 240 mm ROCKET

Bergner: Rocket associated with Iran

Posted: Thursday September 13,2007 - 02:57:27 am
By DAVID RISING, Associated Press Writer

BAGHDAD - A fatal attack launched two days ago against the sprawling headquarters base of the American military in Iraq was carried out with a 240 mm rocket — a type of weapon provided to Shiite extremists by Iran, a U.S. general said Thursday.

One person was killed and 11 were wounded during the "indirect fire" attack Tuesday against Camp Victory, which includes the headquarters of Multinational Forces-Iraq.

The attack was overshadowed by congressional appearances by Gen. David Petraeus and Ambassador Ryan Crocker in Washington.

But such an attack with a sophisticated weapon against a nearly impregnable compound — far less vulnerable than the Green Zone in the heart of the capital — sends a strong message to the Americans that nowhere in Iraq are they safe, even in the nerve center of the U.S. mission.
It represents a major confrontation between the U.S. and armed Shiite groups the Americans insist are supported by Iran.

Maj. Gen. Kevin Bergner said the rocket was launched from a populated area in the Rasheed district of west Baghdad, which he said was infiltrated by the Mahdi Army militia of anti-U.S. cleric Muqtada al-Sadr.

Bergner said Shiite groups "have received" such weapons "from Iranian sources in the past" and "used them against coalition forces." A 240 mm rocket was fired against a U.S. base south of the capital in mid-August.

"The Iranian... rocket is the only 240-milimeter rocket found or fired in Iraq to date, and Jaish al-Mahdi is the only group known to fire that rocket," Bergner said, referring to the Mahdi Army by its Arabic name.

Camp Victory, a huge area located near Baghdad International Airport, has occasionally come under fire, but attacks with such a large number of casualties and with such sophisticated weapons are rare.

On Wednesday, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad rejected the congressional testimony of the top U.S. officials in Iraq accusing Iran of interfering in its war-torn neighbor.

In an interview on Iranian state television, Ahmadinejad said Gen. David Petraeus and Ambassador Ryan Crocker raised allegations of Iranian meddling solely because of the political debate within the United States over the war in Iraq.

"Iran has no need to interfere in Iraq. The Iraqi government and nation are close friends of Iran," he said.

Bergner insisted the U.S. was certain that such rockets were of Iranian origin based on their color and markings on fragments. He said Shiite extremist leaders under U.S. detention had acknowledged that Iranian Quds Force operatives were providing 240 mm rockets to Shiite militias.

Last month, al-Sadr announced a freeze of operations by the Mahdi Army to give time to reorganize the force.

"There are indications that some of his followers are fulfilling that pledge of honor," Bergner said. "We have seen other indications of others who are not fulfilling the commitment he made. We know there are some that are not operating within the bounds of his guidance."

Bergner said the victims of Tuesday's rocket attack were a mix of American military personnel, other coalition troops and civilian contractors. The fatality was a civilian contractor from a third country, meaning neither American nor Iraqi, he said.

Also Thursday, the U.S. military said a joint three-day operation between Iraqi troops and U.S. Special Forces netted 80 prisoners and killed three suspects in the Hamrin Ridge and Diyala River Valley areas of eastern Iraq.

Among those captured were four suspected al-Qaida in Iraq terror cell leaders, the military said in a statement.

The U.S. said Iraqi troops also seized 40 AK-47 assault rifles and machine gun ammunition. More than 1,000 Iraqi soldiers took part in the operation, it said.

Meanwhile, violence continued in Baghdad, with Iraqi police saying six people were killed and 18 wounded when a bomb hidden under a parked car exploded in Sadr City. The bomb was apparently aimed at an American convoy, but missed its target — killing all civilians and setting shops in the area on fire, police said.

In eastern Baghdad, a roadside bomb killed one person and injured two others, police also said.
And near Samarra, 60 miles north of the Iraqi capital, authorities said about 60 gunmen attacked a police station and ignited clashes with residents and police — leaving four assailants dead and two policemen wounded.

The attacks came despite the start of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which began Thursday for Iraq's Sunni Muslims, and Friday for the country's majority Shiites. Tradition requires faithful to abstain from eating and drinking from sunrise to sunset during the monthlong observance.

The U.S. military issued a statement Thursday saying it had begun releasing between 50 and 80 Iraqi prisoners a day as a gesture during Ramadan.

Maybe JAM used this guy to launch their rocket at us. He is the RGC-80 GM Cannon with a single 240 mm cannon

2007-09-12T02:27:00.000-03:00

CORRECTION! CORRECTION! CORRECTION!

Refer to the above slide as you read this blog. [Slide credit to the hilarious, handsome, and debonair Major Olson.]

Here is an important new blog correction from my dear brother, USMC Major Eric Olson:

I do enjoy reading your blog, however, I need to make one correction. I DO NOT fly the Bent Tail Echo trash "Super" Stallion anymore. I fly the venerable old 53 Delta "Sea" Stallion, the older (but smaller) sister to the big, burly prima-donna (no idea how to spell that...) Echo. [I know that, and I tell everyone about how Eric transitioned to Deltas to go to Hawaii, and I do believe, regardless of what he says here, that Hawaii is the only reason he prefers the Delta...hahaha...(Nancy's comments in pink.)]

At first glance, there are not many differences; however, once you look more closely, you will see that they are completely different animals (I share your love for commas, but like the semi-colon as well - Huh huh, I said Colon) [That is an appropriate use of the semicolon, and I applaud you.]. I have enclosed a power point slide for your viewing pleasure.

As you can see in the slides, the Delta has a sexy, trim tail; six main rotor blades, two engines, and a bit of a "hump" back. [I disagree with the semicolon use here.] She is much more fit and trim, sort of a Cameron Diaz of a helicopter. The Echo, on the other hand, has more "junk in the trunk". She has a much larger bent tail. She also has 7 main rotor blades, and 3 engines (presumably required to haul her large "trunk" around). She is much stronger than her "big" sister, and can carry far more cargo at a much faster pace. Her fuel probe allows her a vastly improved range, aswell. She is more of a body builder, but being a 53 still has "curves", sort of a J-Lo of a helicopter. [Olson men prefer athletic builds to the squishier alternative, so this makes sense.]

If the E is so much better, why fly the D you might ask? Good question. You see, when they made all the improvements to the D, they kind of stole her soul. The E's AFCS (automatic flight control system) is much more advanced that the D's. It does a lot of the "thinking" for the pilot and keeps him (or her) from abusing all that extra power and bending the aircraft. The D's AFCS allows (but also requires) the pilot to actually "fly" the thing. To me the D is kind of an outdoorsy, tomboy, girl next door; and the E is a bit of a snobbish, supermodel/powerlifter type (if there was such a thing). She is more capable, but at the same time, far more cantankerous (and much more difficult to get outof the chocks). The D on the other hand, is always ready to go. Her systems are not as complex and actually work almost all the time. Additionally, she's a lot more fun to fly, and is much more responsive. One additional note, the only place where there are still Delta squadrons is Hawaii...[Told you...]

Anyway, I hope this has been informative.

Aloha,

Eric

[My brother thinks he's Hawaiian. How cuuuute.]

2007-09-11T10:06:00.000-03:00

Now, for a lighter matter. It is CRITICAL that we find an appropriately grand monicker for Melissa's lovely camel.

She bought him from the PX, and he is awesome. We love him and wish to have a name by which to refer to him.

We need your help. If you wish to participate in the naming contest (and thereby enter to win the camel), check out Melissa's blog entry and email her! http://www.whereismelissa.com/?p=49

Thank you for playing.

2007-09-11T09:16:00.000-03:00

I don't wish to scare anybody, but I want to let you know that I and my teammates experienced a scary moment a little while ago.

I'm not going to say where it hit, or whether it was a mortar, a rocket, small arms, or what, but suffice it to say I was in a port-a-potty with my pants down when I heard enemy munitions incoming. It was very loud, and it was fast, and it got louder and louder as it approached, and the explosion when it impacted was even louder and shook my perch. IT FLEW RIGHT OVER MY HEAD. As soon as I heard it, I squated down into the fetal position, pants down, hands shielding my head, and waited to be blown to smitherines. God spared me, and my teammates, but there were injuries in the impact area. I don't know the extent.

After it hit, I zipped up and ran outside. I immediately saw the smoke rising from the impact area some 200 meters away from my location. Just after that, I heard the incoming alarm sound. That is the first time I have actually entered the duck-and-cover shelter at the sound of the incoming alarm. Things like this usually come in twos or threes. Luckily, it was a single. I hope we got the bastards; I'm sure we did. We went to see the damage and were told about the injuries. Fire and ambulance crews were at the scene. That's all I want to say about it.

UPDATE: Since it is in the news, I can admit that the attack happened Sept 11, and one civilian was killed. We also saw them working on the many wounded. Here are some of the links that are carrying the story (they all are the same, so if you've read one, you've read them all).:

Attack Kills 1 at U.S. Base Near Baghdad
1 killed, 11 wounded in attack on major U.S. base in Baghdad
Attack kills 1 at U.S. base near Baghdad
Attack Kills 1 at U.S. Base Near Baghdad

One of the girls in my tent had a bandaged arm as a result of the attack, but she is ok.

2007-09-11T02:26:00.000-03:00

Sandstorm, 26 April 2007, Al Asad Air Base, Iraq

Hello, boys and girls. With this posting, we are all in for a special treat. My brother Eric, currently flying CH-53 Super Stallion helicopters out of Al Assad Air Base in Al Anbar Province, has sent me a photo and video clip of a recent sand storm. Here in Baghdad, we never see such sand storms, because there's too much stuff around us to block the force of the wind. So, without further delay, please enjoy the following:

First, an excerpt from my brother's email to me:

"F$#@ THIS PLACE AND (deleted items)!!! I’m going home in just 17 days, and this place can kiss my a$$."

Now that we are all acquainted with Eric's true sentiments (echoed by many), here is the video:

2007-09-09T03:23:00.000-03:00

Wilson Gil fires up the crowd.

Last night, Melissa and I decided to attend a concert we saw advertised on a poster in the baby DFAC (the smaller of the two chow halls on Victory). The rock band Wilson Gil and the Willful Sinners was in town, courtesy of the USO/MWR, and we decided to see what they were all about.

Well, we were certainly pleasantly surprised! We arrived at the Victory outdoor stage area, and there were no more than 20 spectators there waiting for the show. The band was already set up and finished with their sound checks. One of the members, the bass guitarist, was off to one side chatting with the Army MP's and their dog, and the rhythm guitarist/lead vocalist, Mr. Wilson Gil himself, was finishing up some business on stage. His path toward the bleachers intersected ours, and he shook our hands and asked if we were staying for the show. "Heck, yes, Wilson. We came to rock."

The show kicked off in a swirling dust storm, and the indefatiguable band members rocked their hearts out from start to finish. Melissa and I were greatly amused to see Wilson's cowboy hat predictably fly off of his head at the start of each song, when his uncontrollable guitar groove movements would cause his back to arch, his neck snapping backward as he bounded into the air to make the most of his first chords. He was awesome. I took photos and made MPEG movies of him and his band so that I might be able to study his style and memorize some moves for the next time I play Guitar Hero on our XBOX 360. Kick A!

Wilson Gil were an awesome act, and it was super cool of them to come all the way to Iraq from Northern California to play for the troops. They have been in-country for more than a week, touring around to the different FOBs so that the weary troops can relax and rock out. The only reason we didn't have too many people in attendance at Victory was that it was a last-minute addition to the tour circuit, their flight to another FOB having been cancelled that day due to dusty conditions.

At the end of the show, Wilson invited us all out to Bakersfield to see a show, hang out, or even just drop in on them to say hi and talk about "all the crazy $4i+ we did when we were in the Middle East", even going so far as to give out his home address. Haha. Cool guys.

I encourage you all to visit http://www.wilsongil.com/ to learn more about the band. Melissa and I will be emailing them some of the pictures we took (btw, they stayed after the show to sign autographs for everyone who wanted them), and I hope to maybe see them play in Cali sometime. Our favorite song is "Dirty Mattress."

Thanks for coming out, guys. You made our night!

Melissa with lead vocalist/rhythm guitarist Wilson Gil.

Nancy and bass man Barry Spry.

Nancy with drummer Tom Rockwell (great surname for a man of his occupation!).

Autographs for Nancy and Dave.

2007-09-08T11:30:00.000-03:00

Just trying to show the dust. The Palace is pretty obscured there in the background.

My coolest picture of the dust and sun.

The heat source. When there is enough dust in the air, you can look directly at the sun without damaging your eyes (I hope).

Sunglasses work! (Right) Sun viewed by naked eye. (Left) Sun viewed through Oakleys. (By the way, Oakley, if you are out there, Dave's new Flak Jackets got scratched, and the dealer out here doesn't have replacement lenses; want to send some? If so, I'll give you my address.)

Well, if you have taken a peek at the little "Baghdad Weather" indicator in this blog's sidebar during the past couple of days, you surely will have noted that the temperature has dropped down to a balmy 105, and we have high winds and dust storms. WE LOVE DUST STORMS! Well, we don't always love them, and we don't love every aspect of them, but we do love their cooling properties when the temperatures are in the one teens...like 118, 115...the one-teens.

Our latest dust storm blotted out the sun and dropped temperatures significantly. (No, this has not helped the temperature inside of our office trailer; it is still hovering around 105.) The only problem is, it is no fun to breathe heavily when the air is full of dust, and running makes me breathe heavily. That has become my very handy excuse, lately, for skipping my runs. Actually, I did run in the morning yesterday, and I fully intended to run today, but I accidentally set my phone alarm to silent. Woops. I'm supposed to run tonight to make up for it...but we'll see what happens with that. I haven't skipped more than one consecutive day yet, and I don't intend to. [Incidentally, did I mention that I took first place (woman) in a 5K the week I arrived here? Cool, huh?]

So, even with the nice drop in temperature to buoy our spirits, we are still lucky enough to have the dust itself to complain about. I've never sneezed so much in my life, not even when my dear friend's kitty (real name Cafe O'laitte, but renamed "Mocha" by Yours Truly, in much the same manner that I renamed her grandmother (Mom-o) a much more fun to say, "Mee-maw") rubbed her allergen-ridden pelt across my nose. So don't worry about us. There is still complainin' aplenty to be done by us. We love it!

OH! I ALMOST FORGOT!!! We, my teammates and I, have decided to quit using the EVER-so-awful king of curse words...the "F" word. Boys and girls at home, this is a horrible, ugly, nasty, disgusting word, and I have quit using it several times in my life, the first (or perhaps second) time being when I was a midshipman aboard the USS Pubic Mound---err, I mean Puget Sound in Norfolk one summer and ran across an very disgusting Senior Chief female who used the word quite liberally. I decided I didn't want to be like her and quit cold turkey. It stuck for most of the summer, until my return to the drudgery of USNA brought the word back to my vocabulary expeditiously. But, anyway, I have decided to quit, again, and so have all but one of my teammies. For each infraction, the offender must insert one dollar into our Curse Jar (or water bottle), and the money will be used to pay for a team party in October. If things continue the way they went on Day One, it will be one mother of a blowout! How much would you say is in here?

Yeah, that's a 5 in there...

2007-09-05T08:04:00.001-03:00

Me at the Al Faw Palace. I just realized that if you save something as "me at palace," without spaces, you get meatpalace. Looks like two words. Was meant to be three...

Alright. I am way past due to bang out a blog. Sorry, again. I get tired and then don’t feel like typing when I get back to my hooch. I think it’s the heat. It really does take a lot out of us here, and all we do is sit in our office all day. And we walk a lot. And some of us run. And others walk even more.

That reminds me: Our office is typically about 100-110 degrees inside. That’s right, I said INSIDE. Remember my air ducts? Well, they can’t combat the heat when there is too little insulation and too small an A/C. So at least we still have THAT to complain about.

What we cannot complain about any longer is our lack of automobiles. We were supposed to get vehicles as soon as we got here, and I had two quotes the day after touching down on Iraqi soil, but contracting officials always require three. So, after fighting tooth and nail, I finally got a third, and even a fourth. Then, finally, a fifth company, which was not one of the ones I got a quote from, ponied up the vehicles. That’s very lucky, actually, because every one of the other four were completely out of cars, and we were all pretty tired of walking everywhere in this intense heat. We’re now sharing three vehicles between eight (soon to be 10) people, which is quite a luxury. Last time, we had one car for 19 people for the longest time.

Let me take a peek at my “Blog Topics” list. Ah, here’s a good one. I want to speak at you all briefly on the subject of “being snubbed.”

Snubbing is a rampant disease that seems to have gone gangbusters in the military, particularly in the Army. When you are walking down the street, or through the passageways of your office building, or down the hallway in school, and you greet someone with a warm “hello,” or “good morning,” or “Buenos Dias,” for those of you in California, don’t you expect some sort of a reply, or at least a head nod? My mom taught me to be kind and respectful, and I think ignoring an obvious greeting is the height of unkindness and disrespect.

I realize that it takes some effort to say hello to somebody, and maybe you don’t want to say hi, or you can’t be bothered to acknowledge another human being’s presence, but COME ON, PEOPLE! It’s shitty out here. Everybody is hot and miserable. We’re all in the same boat. Would it KILL you to say hello?

Truth be told, I often substitute a nod or a slight smile for a hello, if nobody else initiates a greeting, but if someone actually says something to me, I feel obligated to respond. If you don’t want to tax your vocal cords or waste your breath, though, then I have one request: DON’T STARE AT ME!!!! This is something that military people, in particular (or perhaps it’s just that I am around mostly military people and have worked with mostly military people for most of my life), love to do. They will be walking toward me, and I toward them, and they will be looking me straight in the eye as they approach. Their faces are blank or stern, but never friendly. As we get within a few paces of each other, and the offender (almost always a male) is still staring at me, I will usually say hi. But the offender NEVER greets me back! I mean, how can you stare at a person and then not greet him or her after he or she offers a friendly greeting? Are you kidding me? At least speak to me if you are going to stare at me! For crying out loud! So, this is for all you mute starers: UP YOURS!!! Learn some manners, you turd burglars!

Ok. Sorry about that little outburst. I had to put up with that a lot at the Pentagon, too, and it is just ever so annoying.

Let’s see…what else…how to end this on a happy note…

Try this on for size:

Another one of my best girlfriends on the planet has just given birth to an 8 lb 2 oz (GEEZ!) baby boy named Declan. Congratulations Jennifer and Sean! I am so happy for you both!!! I can’t wait to spoil my newest nephew. Yay!!!

2007-08-30T14:47:00.000-03:00

Our teammates, Iraqi Americans Haidar and Ahmed, had been asking me where they can buy fishing equipment, and I told them they might need to order it. When I was at the Blackhawk market the other day, I happened across a crappy Chinese fishing kit and bought it for them. In return, they caught a lovely fish and brought it to my office to show me yesterday. I just love this photo!

Ahmed, the angler.

Ahmed with another fishy on the line.

This one is a fighter! We had to pray the piece of crap Chinese rod/reel wouldn't break. The reel doesn't really reel very well...

Almost in...here comes the fishy!

Poor baby had the hook in her pretty good. We practice catch and release. We feel sorry for the fish, plus we would be scared to eat anything that lives in that nasty Saddam water. Who knows how many chemicals and dead bodies are in there...

My heroes. Ahmed let Haidar be in this picture, because he baited the hook. That's what I call teamwork!

2007-08-28T14:11:00.000-03:00

Melissa and me at the Aussie pool during a heat strike. Incidentally, Melissa is Australian, and the main reason we have her on our team is so we can get special treatment from the Aussies, like better pool privileges, etc.

This year, as opposed to last year, our offices are in the overflow trailers where our C-IED team was housed before. Remember how I used to work in the palace, where the A/C is really cold, and the bathroom is all marble, ceramic, and gold? Yeah, that palace. Well, we don’t work there anymore.

The trailers are really, really crappy, or at least the one Melissa, Shane, and I work in (that’s right, Shane from my old team is back to work with us) is really, really crappy. There is zero insulation between the outside and inside walls, probably because there is no “inside or outside” wall. They are one in the same…and they’re about 1/6th of an inch thick. There are also cracks in the wall at each seam through which daylight actually shines through to the office floor. I thought it was just the small size of the A/C that made the tiny little room swelter at midday, until I saw those cracks. A moment’s investigation alerted me to the lack of insulation and/or real walls. In fact, daylight can be seen all around the office: in the corners of the door, below the door, around the window, along the seam where the roof joins the walls. It’s pretty impressive that the dang trailer is still standing, when you think about it. And no wonder it is so flippin’ dusty in there that we can’t stop sneezing.

There really isn’t much we can do about the heat in the trailer unless they decide to insulate it, so we have tried to do what we can. We asked the Army for some foamy stuff in a can, but they haven’t given us any. They did ask the Mayor’s Cell, who are in charge of the buildings and housing on Camp Victory, to solve the problem, but the Mayor’s Cell said that it’s just going to be hot, because there isn’t any insulation. So the Army said, well, that’s why we are asking for insulation. And the Mayor’s Cell, probably distracted by the heat in the trailer they were meeting in, said, “The trailers are going to continue to be hot due to the lack of insulation.” Hmmmm… It might have done just as much good to go stand in the corner and hit their head against the wall repeatedly. We still don’t know whether they are going to insulate them, give us bigger A/C’s, or just draw out the problem long enough for the weather to cool down and then forget about it until next summer.

Soooo, what we did was tape up some of the holes and then build an air conditioning duct out of empty water bottles. Yep. You heard right. I went around to all of the garbage cans like a little hobo and gathered up all the empty water bottles I could find. I then proceeded to cut the ends off of all 55 of them and tape them together until I had several lengths of “pipe” that looked a lot like a hamster track. I then used 550 cord and tacks to suspend the lengths of piping from the ceiling and angled the bottles such that one length went from the A/C to my desk, and one length went from the A/C to Shane’s desk, curving out toward Melissa’s. A cardboard box with two holes in it taped over the A/C vents served as the connector. In the end, we wound up with quite a nice little, er, aqua duct. Heh, heh.

It needs a little work, still, because mine blows the strongest, with Shane’s and Melissa’s blowing cool but comparatively weak. It’s just that my desk is closest to the A/C unit, and it is a straight shot, whereas Melissa’s desk is in the opposite corner, and the duct has to bend significantly to hit Shane and Melissa.

The new ducting system works, but it is still no match for the heat outside. At about 3 pm, it is so hot inside that we sweat in our seats, and that normally results in ill tempers and swearing. We also have a huge fan (no kidding, the sticker on the fan says it is an Al Jazeera), but it just blows hot air onto me while blowing the cold air off of me. Melissa likes it better than no fan at all, though, so it points at her. At times, we have to go on little “heat strikes”, during which time we go to our crappy-but-cool tent to work, or to the pool for a quick dip. But normally, we just sit and swelter and curse.

Melissa and Shane benefit from the new A/C duct.

The duct, as seen from my desk.

That's my desk, on the right.

The ducts at the source, where they connect to the A/C.

2007-08-26T15:42:00.000-03:00

A tent next to ours. Ours is the same, except this one has a pretty sunset behind it, and ours doesn't.

We are in a tent designated “military”, which should mean that only military women live there, but which apparently means that only military women and civilians who can’t fit in the civilian tents live in there. KBR, you are such a pain in the arse.

We are fine with the (paltry) accommodations, now that the A/C has been fixed (on Day 1, it was so hot Melissa and I almost pitched a public fit with KBR, but instead decided to put in a work order to get it fixed...novel concept...). I was actually expecting the tents to be fairly nice, like they were when I left the tents a year ago, but they are far, far worse. Before, we lived in crap accommodations that eventually got better and better until we each had real beds, as well as wall lockers, and the wall lockers provided some amount of privacy. Now, however, we are back to Square One, with no lockers and two rows of cots. The cots do have sagging, filthy, stained mattresses on them, but I removed mine and replaced it with my camping Thermarest mattress, upon which I sleep inside of my 55-degree REI sleeping bag. Good times. I love to camp, but this is ridiculous. I tell you all of this so you will understand why we get paid the big bucks. Heh, heh.

ANYWHO, the living arrangement had been fine, with me taking up an entire corner right beneath the A/C, up until about three nights ago. There were four or five of us in the tent until then, and we had just gotten rid of the snaggle-toothed troll who lived across from my cot and never seemed to work or do anything other than watch DVDs all night, sleep all day, and eat stinky chow-hall food in bed. Sadly, however, our easy-living bliss was rudely interrupted when an entire brigade or so of Army soldiers (I know that is redundant, but I am writing for a diverse audience, and some might not know that ONLY Army personnel are referred to as soldiers) moved into our tent city overnight. We went through CRC with a lot of them, but the girls in our tent are all knew faces. It seems the CRC crowd that we flew to Kuwait with had to stay there 10 days for training, and now they are all here, finally.

SO, our comfortable little tent went from four or five to 12--full capacity--as women trickled in all night long. Nobody got any sleep that night, and very few have been getting much sleep in subsequent nights. As I write this, a few nights after the influx, our numbers are back down to eight. But one of those eight is a snorer, and a mere foot of space separates her rack from mine. That means about two feet separate her head from mine. I wear earplugs and a blindfold, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hear her snoring, and one of my biggest peeves is audible breathing. I think the poor dear has sleep apnea, no doubt a result of her, ehem, few extra pounds.

Another problem here is that nobody gives a rat’s ass about other people’s sleep. Well, I suppose the actually do care a bit, if I must be honest, but it does SEEM like nobody gives a rat’s about people who need sleep. Lights are flipped on at random times throughout the night when most of the gals are asleep, lights are turned out during the day when most of us need to see, talking and giggling at all hours is a common occurrence, people love to let the door slam (a new vice I, too, have picked up as a way of getting back at my inconsiderate tent mates (I think I will call them tenties)), and, this is my biggest complaint, people love to open the door so wide that the bottle full of rocks on a string that weights the door and causes it to close gets caught on (this is hard to explain) the bar on the ceiling over which it is slung, thereby un-weighting the door and causing it to fling open when someone (like myself) applies the normally required amount of door-opening pressure to it, expecting a much, much heavier door. The lack of resistance can send the unsuspecting opener of the door flying forward, oftentimes directly into the slack of the string that holds the now-stuck bottle full of rocks, whereupon the extension of the door takes out the slack and causes the rope to catch the opener of the door in the nose or neck. I realize those sentences are long and difficult to read, but I am hoping my prolific use of the common comma will smooth things out for you. I love the comma; it’s like a little traffic cop, telling us when to slow, pause, and readjust. Did I tell you I am a grammar dork? My, but I do digress!

Where was I? Ah, yes. I was bitching about my tenties. I reckon this is getting pretty boring by now, so I will try to wrap this up. I just wanted you all to know that sleeping in an open, squad-bay like tent is very, very difficult. Sleep is a precious commodity, and we are all poor in that department. Melissa and I can hardly wait for the extra girlies to move into their trailers or out to other FOBs (forward operating bases) so that we can sleep a little better again. The waiting list for the Army girls to get trailers moves way faster than the one for civilians, so most of the girls should be out of here very soon. And the good news is, the audible breather just informed me that she is out of here next week. Since she is a civilian, she should be behind us on the 3-month civilian trailer waiting list, but I guess she has a friend who is moving out of a trailer and turning over the keys to her. That is very much against the rules, and it is the main reason the civilian waiting list never moves, but Melissa and I are so glad we won’t have to live with her anymore that we’re not complaining.

And that’s all I have to say about that. Peace out! I hope this blog will help you remember to remember us out here whenever you go to bed in your comfy beds, in your private rooms with indoor plumbing! Give the porcelain a flush for us, and pleasant dreams to you all!

A view of our hooch when it wasn't as crowded.

My corner, under the A/C, which allows for extra storage space.

2007-08-24T14:47:00.000-03:00

12 August 2007: Touchdown in Baghdad. I'm baaaaaack...

2007-08-24T13:48:00.000-03:00

Our office toilets. Not quite as plush as my old palace accommodations...

Here at Camp Victory, we are quite accustomed to living in and amongst, well, filth, really. What I mean is, everything here is coated in a very tangible layer of actual filth, and even the filth is eventually layered in filth. And even certain amenities--actually, all basic amenities, are, indeed, rather filthy.

[Sidebar: The word “amenity” derives from, I believe, the many prayers that people say before using said amenities. For example, “Please, God, don’t let me get a foot fungus from that nasty shower, Amen.” Then there is the ever-popular, “Please, Lord, don’t let any of that nasty blue port-a-potty water splash onto my bare buttocks, Amen.” Laugh if you want, but that actually happens, and (TMI warning), well, it only JUST happened moments ago.]

Take, for example, those common amenities such as toilets and showers. I mean, Camp Victory and its surrounding camps are actually very nice, heavily-populated, westernized camps, and I only complain about them because it makes me happy to complain. We do, after all, have Pizza Hut, The Green Bean (Starbucks-esque), Subway, Cinnabon, Burger King, Popeye’s, and, new since I was here last, Taco Bell, and it really doesn’t get more civilized than all that, now does it? But what is lacking is civility in the, um, hygiene realm.

This area is extremely highly populated, and the numbers of soldiers and civilians seems to be climbing at an infestation rate. (Just last night, our tent population went from 4 girls to 12!) Because of the large numbers of bodies and the relatively low reserves of fresh (loosely used term here) water, conservation steps include using a whole lot of port-a-potties in replace of actual flushing toilets.

Well, in my tent city, we have showers with barely dripping spigots and an obscene number of water conservation placards strewn across all the walls. The meaning of one such placard baffled some of my tent mates and me for almost an entire two weeks until my brilliant friend and co-worker, Melissa, figured out that the “POJ” acronym in, “Conserve water; do not leave the water running when you brush your teeth or shave; maximize use of POJs,” stands for Port O Johns. Silly me, I never would have guessed that, seeing as how the sign is posted in the SHOWER, and I always thought it was Port-A-John, which would make me believe that the acronym, if you really must have another flippin’ acronym in your life, would be PAJ, and I really have to wonder why they are insinuating that we shouldn’t go to the bathroom in the shower.

So, being the good little resident that I am, and seeing as how I have been drinking A LOT of water, I have been using the heck out of those, um, err, port…a…o…to hell with it; I’ll refer to them as porter johns, since that’s what I thought they were when I was a kid. Truthfully, if I had any alternative choice, such as a flushing toilet, I would never even begin to maximize use of the POJs. All we have at the trailers we work out of are porter johns, and the nearest toilets to the tent that we live in are porter johns. I could walk a greater distance, if I needed, to some flushing toilets, but that would cause me to lose even more sleep during the minimum of 3 nightly trips to the potty. So, porter johns it is. (Alright, I confess I don’t like calling them porter johns, so let’s go with…porta potties.)

The porta potties (that doesn’t seem right, either, since I am afraid people won’t realize that I realize that that is not the proper term, so let me start over.) The port-a-potties at our “office” are particularly disgusting, I’d like you all to know. All of the port-a-potties are cleaned daily by the shit-sucking trucks (SSTs), but they still somehow manage to drip with stink. I think it has something to do with the natural heat-capturing greenhouse effect of the plastic with which they are constructed. Entering a port-a-potty that has been sitting out in direct sunlight on a 118-degree day, even though it is a dry heat, is scarier than the dream I had last night about having to take a running leap off of a 34-story building and land in the ocean at the start of a triathlon/adventure race. Staying in the out-house greenhouse long enough to “get ‘er done” is hard enough. Staying in there long enough to zip, button, and buckle takes determination, fortitude, and immense lung capacity. It is hard to hold one’s breath the entire time, but failing to do so can actually allow the razor-sharp stench of concentrated urine/ammonia to cut into your nostrils and stay seated in your sinuses for hours. No kidding.

I don’t know who or what has the nonchalance to sit in a filthy, stinking port-a-potty long enough to actually write on the walls, but somebody in our tent city does. Two new bathroom graffiti gems, if you will, have appeared in two separate potties in the past two days. One is a hilarious, albeit blasphemous, “God said let there be light, and Chuck Norris said, ‘Say please.’” The other is an even more time-consuming defacing of an existing sign that changed it from, “Please do not leave empty water bottles; put them in the trash cans,” to “Please do not leave empty water bottles; put them in the __ass can_.” Hilarious, and I applaud the discipline it must have taken to remain in the stench and heat long enough to entertain us with those juicy tidbits.

Every port-a-potty, in an attempt to provide an appearance of civility, is equipped with a soap dispenser full of antibacterial gel. Never mind that the gel properties of antibacterial gel are such that they tend to gum-up soap dispensers (supposedly because antibacterial gel is not soap), so there are very few gel dispensers that actually, well, dispense. The dispenser at our office toilets has been broken since we got here, and it finally reached the point that no amount of banging on it with one’s fist would result in the dispensing of so much as a dribble of gel.

Melissa, apparently reading my mind, wrote on the dispenser in dry-erase marker, “Fix me, please.” The next day, the note was erased, and the dispenser dispensed antibacterial dribbles for almost half a day. I went back outside and wrote on the dispenser, “Please just replace me. I don’t work 99.99% of the time.” Well, today, lo and behold, we have a brand new soap dispenser full of glistening, green antibacterial gel! So I wrote “Thanks” on the new dispenser and gleefully disinfected my hands.

2007-08-18T11:49:00.000-03:00

CRC living quarters. Nice sunset, eh?

Well, so here we go, finally. I know, I know. You are all angry with me for not blogging. Well, I apologize. CRC didn’t allow access to blogs, and ditto for our systems here at work. Yep, I am now in Baghdad. And speaking of Ditto…

We, my new friend and coworker Melissa and I, spent a week together in Columbus, Georgia, the swamp ass capitol of the world and home to Fort Benning. Why is it the swamp ass capitol of the world? Well, I am not certain it has been officially bestowed with that title, but I doubt anyone who has been there during the summertime would disagree that it is a fitting moniker.

It is HOT in Georgia. I mean to tell you, it is STICKY HOT. Sweaty hot. Nasty, icky, disgusting, sweat-in-the-shower hot. It was so hot there that I just could not WAIT to get to Iraq so I could enjoy the hotness of Baghdad. You see, in Georgia, the humidity makes you sweat as soon as you step outdoors, and you stay soaking wet until you can get inside and cool down. In Baghdad, the temperature is hotter than in Georgia, but, as they say, it is a dry heat. You sweat, but the dry air dissipates moisture and keeps you feeling halfway human half of the time. Georgia offers no relief.

Anyway, now I have begun to bore myself. I think you get the point. Georgia is hot and miserable. Moving on.

The Gazebo, where most of the socializing at CRC takes place.

Back to, “and speaking of Ditto.” CRC is a total suckfest, but the one good thing I can say about it is that we at least got to meet some really great people. Every evening after each long day of “hurry up and wait”, large numbers of our “classmates” would congregate outside under the smoking gazebos to drink, tell lies, and, well, smoke ‘em if they got ‘em. I didn’t smoke, but I did drink beer, and I did engage in the telling of tall tales. We met all kinds of awesome folks, including an Army sergeant, female type, with the last name of Ditto (ah, finally, the correlation). I’ll accidentally leave somebody out and regret it if I try to list all the wonderful civilians and soldiers we met, so just believe me when I tell you we made a lot of wonderful friends, and I am glad at least a few of them will be hanging out here at Camp Victory.

CRC, by the way, is the CONUS Replacement Center, which is a sort of hub for individuals and units deploying to and redeploying from theaters such as Iraq and Afghanistan. That includes military individual replacements, active duty, guard, civilians…you name it. Everybody who goes to Iraq has to have a Common Access Card (CAC), and CRC is where you get them. CRC is actually mandatory even for those who already possess a CAC card. By the way, I do realize that CAC card is redundant (common access card card), but just calling it a CAC (pronounced “cack”) seems vulgar. “Let me check your CAC,” and, “I need to go back to my tent and grab my CAC,” are phrases that can be unsettling if you don’t tack “card” onto the end of them. The rule is, anybody who has been out of theater for more than 30 days has to go through CRC again.

At CRC, we learn interesting skills such as sleeping with our eyes open, how to complain openly and often, and how to fill out forms for official records that will never actually be filed. Seriously, though, I suppose parts of CRC are useful. I don’t know which parts, but some of them must be. Last time I did CRC, at Ft Bliss, Texas, I at least thought the first aid and hostage rescue classes were interesting. I didn’t find anything interesting this time, though. I was mildly interested in what people were buying off the roach coach during breaks, but only mildly. And I was vaguely interested in seeing what new flavors of MREs they had come up with since I last checked.

After a week of the famously boring Army harassment package that is CRC, we were all pleased to finally get out of Georgia and on our way to Kuwait.

We boarded our chartered flight at 2300 EST on Friday, 10 Aug, and we were rolling by 2315. At least they know how to board planes efficiently in the Army! The sergeant major and personnel in charge of the movement were really sharp and very good. (I must also say that the cadres in charge of us at CRC were good, too, for the most part.) At 2315 and 30 seconds, I heard a thunk sound, followed by, “Medic!” It was hot as crap on the plane, and someone had gone down. That meant a delay while they checked him out to ensure he was ok to fly. In the meantime, we sat and stewed in our own sweat, since the aircraft couldn’t really crank on the A/C until we were airborne.

Liquor at the airport in Leipzig, Germany. We won't be allowed to have booze until we arrive back in the U.S. so it was just there to taunt us...not that I wanted any, anyway...

We finally took off at 2320. It was hot and sweaty for two hours, and then it was absolutely freezing. I put on my blindfold and my earplugs and slept all the way to Leipzig, Germany, 8+ hours away from, and twenty degrees cooler than Georgia. We spent about an hour or so there refueling before taking off for the final six-hour leg to Kuwait. We arrived in Kuwait at 2203 local time Saturday night, then we did the requisite waiting around, bus ride, waiting, baggage unloading, waiting, and manifesting until early morning Sunday. We were very lucky to catch the next flight out of there, landing at Baghdad International Airport, military side, at 1105 local time on 12 Aug. I seriously thought we would be stuck in Kuwait for a number of days waiting for a flight, but we got lucky.

And there ends this blog session. Pictures follow. Stay tuned for news from Camp Victory.

Baggage we unloaded at Ali Al Saleem in Kuwait.

Dust in the air reflects my camera flash. I forgot about that. Only photos taken without a flash will turn out in this dusty crap hole.

The airfield in Kuwait. Those hangars in the background are bombed out and crumbling, but they are still in use as offices, or something.

Mustering before getting on the bus that would take us to the flight line. Look at the nasty civilians. I'm one of those, now. And I love it.

2007-08-01T11:29:00.001-03:00

Carole, Don, and me. My in-laws!

Well, I thought I would be in DC for a week or less, but, after 13 days, I AM STILL HERE! Phooey! Those who have been in the military themselves, and those who have been around the military, in any capacity, know all about "hurry up and wait." I'm not complaining, but I do feel there is relevance to at least explaining what I mean by this. You see, the way it seems to work is, the government will decide it needs something, like, yesterday, and they will light a fire under someone's (SYColeman's, in this case) a$$ to make what they need to happen, well, happen. So the group with the fire under their a$$es will jump through hoops and ready everything for action. AND THEN what happens is, the government will realize that they need to check a couple more boxes before they can "pull the trigger", as it were. So the one with the fire under his/her butt enters into a holding pattern. And then the government figures things out (writes orders, in this case), pulls the trigger, and expects action. But the thing is, by that time, the contractor (whose butt is still on fire) misses the last exit in the holding pattern and is forced to circle around again (because, for example, another gov't group runs out of school seats in the compulsory, weeklong course that all those whose butts are on fire must attend before deploying to Iraq). So, that is basically the story in a nutshell (help, help, I'm in a great big bloody nutshell!). Confused? Join the club. But, seriously, this sort of thing is totally expected, and we always just go with the flow, and it's no big deal, but we will complain about it anyway, albeit mildly, because we are former military, and soldiers and Marines are not happy if they are not complaining, and vice versa. Don't believe me? Ask any commander. The moment Marines stop complaining is the moment you know something is actually wrong.

Baby Meghan Alexis

SO, I have been hanging out in Alexandria and working in Crystal City, and it's kind of fun being back in my old "neighborhood." I am sad my buddy Meghan, who recently moved to LA, isn't still living here so I can hang out with her, but no worries. I did enjoy seeing my (recently engaged!) friend Ellen, and I even had an opportunity, because of the contract delay, to go up to Princeton to see my best girlfriend, her husband, and their BRAND NEW baby girl. I rented a car and drove up in order to save $100 on a train ticket, and after 7.5 hours into a 3.5 hour trip, I was severely regreting that poor decision. But seeing them was just awesome, and well worth the trip, and I have to state here publicly that their little monkey is the cutest newborn baby I've ever seen in my life. She was delivered by C-section, so I guess the reason she is so cute is she didn't get all squinched thanks to having avoided the bowling-ball-through-a-garden-hose ordeal of birth canal birthing. Yuck.

I also got to spend a weekend with my in-laws, and that was really cool, because I am lucky enough to have in-laws whom I actually really enjoy visiting. I flew out to Baltimore from LA, after visiting my best girlfriend in Burbank. Jennifer and Sean are also expecting, and it was wonderful being able to see them before flying east. I arrived in Baltimore and was greeted at the airport by my sister-in-law, Evanthe, and I was just blown away by the cuteness of my new little nephew, David James. I stayed with Evanthe and Steve, and, as luck would have it, I arrived on the exact weekend of Steve's 40th birthday party. I got to see the entire family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was awesome. To top it all off, we discovered that one of Dave's cousins is moving to San Diego and needs a place to stay for a few months, so now we have someone to house sit! Talk about perfect!

Me and my nephew, David James.

Today is Wednesday, and I leave here Friday for Georgia. I'll spend about a week in Georgia (the state, not the country), and then I'll fly out to Iraq. The week will be a painful one (more hurry up and wait...Army style...), but it will bring me closer to Iraq, and the sooner I get to Iraq, the sooner I can come home. !

2007-07-16T07:08:00.000-03:00

Dear friends and family,

It has been many moons since I last addressed you all. A lot has happened since we last "spoke."
1. I got engaged December 25, 2006.
2. Dave and I bought a house in La Mesa, CA, (San Diego County) 22 Feb.
3. We got married Feb 25, 2007.
4. Dave, my sweetie-pie hubby, deployed to Iraq April 16, 2007.
5. I decided to get a job and went to work at the world's greatest bike shop, Trek Bicycle Superstore, in San Diego, May 8, 2007.
6. I bought out the store on my last day and truly hope to return sometime early next year, if they'll have me.
7. I found my way onto another contract on or about July 15, 2007.
8. I head back to Iraq for a 4-month gig any day now.
9. No, I highly doubt I'll get to see Dave while I'm there.
10. Wish me luck on my second journey into B-dad!

I am really excited to be going back to work for my old company. I love the company, and my boss is a great guy. I am excited about every aspect of the journey, especially the prospect of seeing my good buddies, Ami (who is STILL running around driving the boys crazy aboard Camp Victory), and Sabah (who is the sweetest CJ in all the world). They don't know I'm heading back, so I'll figure out the best way to surprise them.

I'm expecting to do some similar work as before, providing services to MNC-I, IO, but I am not 100% sure what my job will entail. I am superduper excited about going over as the advance party (of one) on this gig. I'll get to set everything up for the rest of the team, and that is really exciting. I figure I can handle it, as I really know my way around after a year over there the first time around. My last job taught me a lot about the logistics of Victory South.

Anyway, I just wanted to say, "Look out, Baghdad; here I come!" I can hardly wait!

2006-10-13T11:10:00.000-03:00

Well, I'm back. I'm in El Paso, Texas, and I've been here since the 9th, just sitting in my hotel room going out of my mind while awaiting final processing. We have to do this reverse-CRC/SRP thing (CRC is Conus Reconcilliation Center, I think, and I have no clue what SRP is). I turned all my gear in on the 10th, and all I was missing were my chem/bio overboots. I thought we didn't have to turn those in, so I gave them to Sabah during the muddy/rainy season in Baghdad. No biggie, as they were only $15. Well worth it to keep Sabah's little footsies dry. Of course, the boots were the cause of the two massive open flesh wounds on his shins, but that's another story.

Apparently, they are processing 4000 or so soldiers through medical for deployment, so our schedule was effected as we were placed on the far-back burner. So I've been twiddling my thumbs for a few days waiting for my chance to out process through medical. Again, no biggie, because I get paid until I get home, but MAN, am I bored. I am concerned for my psychological well being. Being this bored and alone after experiencing such the opposite for the past year in Iraq is really tough. I don't think I'm adjusting well. And the thing is, even when I finish here, I will have to go to Mexico and sit on my ass, alone, for another week ++. Dang. Dave is training in Memphis, so I won't see him until about the 29th. Waaaaaaaaa.

Well, today I checked out of the hotel and arrived on base at the appointed 0600 muster time, only to be informed that there was a huge mistake and show time isn't until 1100. I made my flight arrangements for 1500, so I hope I make my flight. The Army is so good at screwing up schedules. They are even better at it than the Marine Corps. Good thing I am so well-versed in hurry-up-and-wait. So, here I sit at Starbucks waiting for the hours to tick by. I need a nap. Just 3 hours 'til the new show time...woohooo!

Later I'll tell you about the hike I did yesterday morning.

2006-10-09T01:51:00.000-03:00

FINALLY! It took me about 40 tries to get my shoes to catch on this wire above the Camp Victory MWR gym parking lot. Scroll below to see my successive attempts...

Guess what!?

Well, I got to Kuwait, and I took the free embassy bus to the Hilton, where some smart people had registered online for free rooms in these really swank villas on the beach. I was not one of those smart people, because I failed to plan ahead and ask the right questions. SO, I was going to book a regular room and pay for it, but the cheapest room turned out to be $250+ per night. I pitched a private fit while they kindly found me a cheaper hotel and arranged a free ride there for me. By the time I arrived at the new place, I was already sick of Ramadan and decided to leave the country as soon as possible. I got online at the new hotel before checking in, changed my flight plans to depart 24 hrs earlier, hopped into a cab, and went directly to the airport to catch my 0125 flight to Frankfurt.

Sooooo...here I am, a whole day early. And thank God, because I did NOT want to spend another 24 hours and several hundred dollars to waste time in Kuwait during Ramadan, where even so much as drinking water during daylight hours could land you in jail. No thanks!

I am waiting for my flight to Houston here in Germany, and I'm on a T.Mobile Hotspot. Man, I hate paying for wireless. I hope it is all free one day...

Here are my last pics from Baghdad. I decided to throw my "famous" purple Pumas over the only wire I know of, which is in the parking lot at the Camp Victory gym. Anybody who knows me who sees them hanging will know they're mine. Nobody else has purple running shoes. These poor beauties were worn out and full of holes by the time I retired them, and it is fitting to leave them here as a lasting memorial to my Baghdad running days. This shoe-on-a-wire tradition is big on every USMC installation I've been on, but I've never seen them hanging here in Iraq. Perhaps this will reinstate the tradition aboard this installation. One can only hope.

Cheers from Germany. See you in the motherland...Texas!

2006-10-08T04:08:00.000-03:00

Posing with my newest shwag: a t-shirt and flag from this morning's Baghdad Ten-Miler. This race is the Baghdad edition of the Army 10-Miler, which will take place in Washington, D.C. the same day (which is actually, like, tomorrow, but it is 8 October). Our weather was perfect; I was actually cold this morning. I hear it is raining in D.C.

My Last Blog from Iraq

Well, today marks the end of an era for me, so to speak. As I type this, I feel a little strange. I am not sad, I am not ecstatic; I merely am. I just can't believe I'm leaving, finally, for good, and I can't believe I'm actually going to miss Baghdad.

I've carved out a nice little life for myself here, and I think of Camp Victory and Camp Liberty as my community. I know the people, and they know me. It's like moving out of the neighborhood you grew up in. It's inevitable, and it's good progress, but it has sad edges to it.

I am really happy that I got to do a final road race here before departing. I realized last night that the 8th is the Baghdad edition of the Army 10-Miler (an annual event in Washington D.C.), and I decided I had to run it. I think that everybody is known for something, and what I am known for here is running. I cannot describe how happy I am to have been able to squeak in one last hurrah here by running this race. It was an AWESOME event, and the T-shirt kicks butt. I was fully unprepared for a 10 miler, so my goal was to just run it and not actually race. I've only been running three miles about every other morning or so lately. I basically just ran my regular 3-mile pace and added 7 miles to the distance. Haha. I finished in 72 minutes, 22 seconds, and that was good enough for third place female, overall (7:17 average mile). Not great, but not too shabby, either! The coolest part is, the top 5 male and female finishers got these awesome Iraqi flags embroidered with the race name, the date, and our place. Not a bad departing gift at all, if I do say so myself.

I said goodbye to all the race regulars, and they agreed it was a pretty cool send-off. I was sad to bid some dear friends goodbye, too, but I think I'll see them again. Everybody wants to visit San Diego, so at least I have that going for me. Right, Ami? Right, Paul?

Well, it's about that time. I have to go throw my "famous" purple running shoes over a telephone wire before I depart, so I guess I'd better head out. I'll blog soon from Kuwait.

Peace out, Baghdad. I hope you get your $h!+ together real soon.

2006-10-07T15:06:00.000-03:00

I'm leaving tomorrow, and I have decided to make my penultimate posting from Baghdad a photo of something that I will really miss about this place. I will miss all of the clever little ways that people discover to make this place a little bit more like home, a little bit more tolerable, or a little bit more personalized. I just took this photo today, but I've been meaning to for a couple of months now. Somebody made the effort to find grass and bushes to plant so that he or she can have a little patch of a yard. I mean, that's real grass!!! And look at the darling pink flamingo. I give this person major kudos, and I also send a hearty "thank you" for brightening my day each time I see this teensie clump of yard. I love it, and I will miss this type of "can do" spirit. I love the way unique situations can bring out the creativity and the humanity in people. God bless America!

I'll try to post before my flight tomorrow. If I don't make it, I'll post from Kuwait! Peace out, folks.

2006-10-07T14:56:00.000-03:00

One of the loose ends I tied up in recent days is to make good on a promise to post a picture of The Barn. Well, Here it is, GMB. Not much to look at, really, but they have the cheapest and best gear, especially SIM cards and phones.

Read the sign, and then guess which day I chose to go take my photo...

I always thought this sign was curious. Since 1969? Huh.

2006-10-06T14:31:00.000-03:00

I have been spending this week tying up loose ends in preparation for my departure. I have my flight to Kuwait confirmed for Sunday, and I’m pretty excited about it. It’s going to be strange leaving this place where I’ve established a somewhat peculiar existence with a somewhat eclectic group of friends. The past year has been interesting, and I’ve forged good friendships. I have to wonder, though, how many of my Iraq friends I will still be in touch with four years, 12 months, or even a few weeks from now. Life’s funny that way. I do hope I can keep in contact with, or at least cross paths with, these great people again someday, in the real world.

I have spent the last few days packing and frequenting the post office, and I am just about ready to depart. I just gave away my mountain bike, shoes, pedals, and helmet, and I feel surprisingly indifferent about it. I don’t think I’ll even miss it. Anyway, even though it’s a high-end bike by Baghdad standards, it doesn’t hold a candle to the two babies waiting for me at home. My bikes miss me at least as much as I miss them, I think.

This week has been filled with logistics chores. Gear inventory, vehicle turn in, gear inventory… This whole gear accountability thing is pretty intense, especially with items scattered all over Iraq. And to make it worse, this idiot US Army Major has some sort of a grudge against me (maybe because I am female and she hates women, or maybe because she just hates contractors?) and has been totally unhelpful. It’s a long story, but we have managed to get tons of stuff accomplished in spite of her, and she said, in a meeting with MY BOSS, that the difficulties we experienced with turning in broken gear is “Nancy’s fault, because she didn’t tell the supply guy that it is contractor gear and not on an Army property book.” Funny, but the first sentence out of my mouth, after telling him who I work for and where, was that I have “contractor-acquired, government-owned” gear that is broken and needs to be turned in, but that I am having trouble finding someone to take it because it’s NOT ON A GOVERNMENT PROPERTY BOOK. If I weren’t so averse to conflict, I would go tell her to stick it. When I heard she had bad-mouthed me again (this wasn’t the first time) for something completely fabricated, I dropped some profanities that I am seriously not proud of. I want to tell her she was wrong to do that, but it seems so petty. Dangit.

Thank you for allowing me to vent. Now I am finished. I just wonder what in the heck I did to offend her, because she has been a snot to me since the first moment I met her. I find that a lot of women here really dislike other women (and they especially hate civilian women). I don’t think the major knows that she and I are peers. There’s a staff sergeant here whom I smile at and greet every time I see her, and she has not once even so much as nodded, murmured, or otherwise acknowledged my presence. I almost feel sorry for mean people. They must be very unhappy.

Anyway, but OH have I digressed. Most of the people here are awesome, and that is why part of me is sad to leave. This is an experience unlike any other, and it has been such a privilege to have had the opportunity to come to Iraq and work with a lot of awesome folks to try to do something good over here. What an adventure.

2006-09-30T06:47:00.000-03:00

I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!

Well, we are still unsure of our fate here in Iraq, as a company, so I am not sure if my plans are all going to fall to pieces or not. I just want those who are expecting me home to be prepared for the unexpected. I might have to come home early, out process, and then go to Mexico to get my “330.” That’s my magical tax-benefit number…a long story if you haven’t already heard it. So, that would mean I couldn’t go right out to Virginia upon my return and would have to spend a week or so getting my business squared away, and then 1.5 weeks in Mexico, and then figure out when to go to Virginia.

Semper Gumby, people. I’ll try to keep ya’ll posted.

On a more positive note, I downloaded some new (old) White Stripes albums and two new episodes of The Office. I can’t wait to watch it. I subscribed to Season Two, and that means I’ll be able to download each new episode as it airs. Wooohooo! That show is so dang hilarious! Brilliant!

2006-09-29T14:32:00.000-03:00

I have to drive in and out of a certain gate on Camp Slayer all the time, and all of the Global Security guys like to say "hi" to me, or talk to me, etc., because they don't see many American women (these guys are Iraqis, for the most part). They all know me by now, and I knew this, but a tiny little event made this fact more plainly evident this morning. I was doing a U-turn in the usual place, and I held out my ID as I approached, per standard operating procedures. They all waved me through hurriedly, gesturing in a sort of, "yeah, yeah, yeah; you again," sort of manner. As I drove by them slowly, with the window down, one of them said, "Yes, we know you. We all know you. Your smile is a like a beacon in the desert." I laughed, smiled, thanked them, and drove on as they halted traffic to let me through. Haha. I don't know why I am always surprised that the boys always notice the girls here. I wonder what the ratio is...It must be about several hundred to one. And civilian girls are even more rare. Gosh, I'll be glad to be back where I am a normal girl again. I feel sorry for gorgeous women.

2006-09-27T04:20:00.000-03:00

Well, I am getting pretty short. What I mean, obviously, is that I don’t have much time left here. It’s the morning of the 27th, and I have a flight out of Iraq on the 9th. I’m flying to Kuwait, and I’ll stay there until my flight home on the 15th. I’ve decided to fly to Virginia after I out process through CRC, and that will give me a chance to hang out with my dear friends Meghan and Ellen there in Alexandria. I have a car there, and a storage facility full of gear, so I’ll pack it all up and head west, via Memphis, in early November. Dave is going to be wrapping up some training there, and he’ll join me for the drive to California. That’ll be a blast!

Lately, I have been helping my team here to prep for a possible redeployment. Our contract is still in a state of suspended animation here (I won’t supply the details), so we’re in a bit of a holding pattern. In the meantime, we are preparing for the worst-case scenario. I’ve been getting everybody’s orders and ID cards (an extension) prepared, and I’m trying to get a handle on the turnover of our equipment/property book. What a nightmare that is! (Ok, ok; it’s not soooo bad.)

I also do some logistical stuff that involves driving our folks to where they need to be, and stuff like that. When I’m working at my desk here in the headquarters building, I get to listen to the battle update briefing (BUA) a couple of times per day. It’s really interesting to hear what is going on with the troops each day. We also hear real-time information on troops in contact, requests for air support, IED attacks, etc. It’s so easy to sit here in my comfortable and safe office and forget that troops are out there facing serious dangers each and every minute of every day. I hope that you all keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

And to all those asshole politicians and liberal journalists out there, please don’t take what I just said and use it as ammunition against what we’re doing here in Iraq. The troops I just mentioned are in harm’s way, but they aren’t complaining. They’re doing their jobs, and they are doing them exceedingly well. They’re getting the job done here; so butt out.

2006-09-17T01:19:00.000-03:00

Howdy, ya'll. Hey, I keep forgetting to tell you: The weather is getting cooler here. The highs have been around 105, and it feels positively chilly! Haha. Summer is ending, and I think people's hapiness is inversely proportional to the temp. I bought a crappy little mountain bike to get to my new workplace, and I actually felt COOL on my way in this morning. I'll probably freeze to death when I get back to California.

:)

2006-08-26T10:41:00.000-03:00

Hey, ya'll.

I just want to start generating a buzz by letting you in on a little venture LB and I are partnering on. Very soon, we are going to launch an online T-shirt shop where you can buy some really cool, really funny shirts. A lot of the initial designs will have something to do with life here in Iraq, but we have plenty of others on the way that will make sense to a more global audience. We just became too disgusted with the lack of good T's available for purchase here, and we decided to take matters into our own hands.

Our business will launch soon, and you can be sure I'll post an announcement right here as soon as it happens. You won't want to miss out! We won't make you wait more than a day or three.

Stay tuned...

2006-08-23T06:37:00.000-03:00

LB and Nancy see some serious combat action in Baghdad. Get some! (Photo courtesy of CajunTiger)

OK. Here's the latest with our contract:

The task order, as we know it, is pretty much finished as of 31 August. Our team will cease to exist in its present form. There could be a few jobs in the new task that the Corps designed, but only a few. We have three teammates qualified for the new positions. SO, most of my teammates have to find new jobs, and if they don't want to leave Iraq in the interim, they have to find new jobs by about 1 Sept.

Luckily, it looks like most of the team will be able to work their way into something else here, because not one of us actually wants to go home yet.

My status: I don't want to jinx it, but it looks like I'll be able to transition into a position on another contract here. If it works out, I'll be doing a lot of writing (yea!), and I'll also handle some logistics issues such as vehicle maintenance and equipment accountability. It's all right up my alley, and I really think it would be a nice change of pace. I would stay in Iraq just beyond my original deadline, perhaps through about 27 October. We shall see. Fingers crossed!

Thanks for all the good thoughts...

2006-08-20T14:27:00.000-03:00

We are in the midst of a contract issue. We are all praying that we won't have to head home at the end of the week. It's that time of year, I guess, but this was sprung on us rather suddenly Friday, and we are just getting over the shock. I'll keep you posted on the outcome, but I emplore you to send happy thoughts our way. Not one of us is ready to leave our lives in Iraq. We have all set goals, and we won't meet them without a near-miracle to keep us here.

I'll update in a couple of days.

Happy thoughts.

2006-08-15T04:12:00.000-03:00

FLIPPIN' FLARK FLACKER FLABERGHASTED FLIZZLE FLARGER FIDDLE STICKS!!!!

I KNEW I shouldn't have written about my roommate situation. I got cocky. I was feeling unstoppable. I thought I was untouchable. I got too big for my britches...and now all my hopes have been dashed. I have been cut back down to size by a shiny, new, pint-sized little roommate.

She seems nice, and I think we'll get along great, but, well, I am mourning my privacy. My little sanctuary has been violated, and I do not blame the roommate, but I will be disgruntled for a little while. I am very lucky, actually, because she seems very cool, and she is very respectful of my space. She has good noise and light discipline, and I certainly appreciate that. She is also engaged, which means I won't have to worry about fellers coming over all the time. Whew.

Anyhow, I thought I'd let you know. I would also tell you I think the internet situation is moving along in my favor, but I don't want to jinx that, too!

2006-08-14T10:35:00.000-03:00

Still no roommate! (Knock on wood.) Keep your fingers crossed. I walk in every day expecting to see gear on the left-hand side...but nothing yet (knock on wood, again).

No internet yet, either. I think that will be solved soon enough, though. The Jackal wireless folks have the service up, and I think I'll get connected as soon as they let me come and get the equipment I need. Fingers crossed for that, too!

That's about it. I'm super tired. Oh, and I won a little Diversity Day 5K here Saturday. That's always fun. There's a fast Aussie chica here who likes to give me a run for my money. I had to use tactics and some Guts to come out on top. It was really fun. My little running buddy, LB, ran too. So did Raja. We had a lot of fun. I'm going to miss my running buddies when I leave here.

See ya.

2006-08-11T09:07:00.000-03:00

Jesus and Habibi

An Iraqi American friend of ours lost his ID holder in the bathroom today. You see, Habibi (name changed to protect the guilty) is a devout Muslim, and he removes his badge carrier in the bathroom to wash up before he prays. Well, today, he accidentally left it behind, and he was in a panic. It contained all his important documents, including his palace badge, his CAC card, his passport, and other choice items. We inquired at the security desk, but nobody had turned one in. We asked in Room 300, but nobody had turned one in. Finally, I suggested that he should check his email, because if I had found a badge, I'd email the person whose name was on it. Lo and behold, he had an email from the finder of the badge. And the name of the guy who saved Habibi from pain and ridicule? Jesus, of course (with the Hispanic "hey, seuss" pronunciation). We all got a kick out of that. Thank you, Jesus. Both of you.

2006-08-08T08:01:00.000-03:00

This is my mom and Bentley. He's a 135-lb Newfoundland, bred to swim and to perform water rescues. He's the sweetest, most gentle, quietest, most loving pooch in all the world. Since I will be moving to California, where it is hot, I can't have a Newfy. I think I'll get a wire-haired pointing griffon. They are active, smart, and can run with me. I cannot wait to visit my folks in Boise so I can squeeze Bent.

I have a theory, and it goes like this:

Any country that doesn't love dogs is doomed.

Any country that doesn't keep dogs as pets is doomed.

Any country that doesn't at least utilize dogs as working animals is doomed.

All the great and prosperous nations love dogs and keep dogs as pets, even those which also eat dogs.

Iraq does not like dogs. Iraqis hate dogs.

Any comments? Iraqis? Would you like to refute this or explain it? Why do you hate dogs? I am not condemning you. I am just saying I think your country will be crippled until you allow the canine species into your hearts. I am looking for insight. Am I wrong? Don't hate. Educate.

2006-08-07T06:39:00.000-03:00

My new neighborhood: Freedom Village. It's beeeeyoootiful! Or something.

I had weird dreams last night. I dreamt that I was getting a roommate…and I am afraid it could actually happen today, for real. Right now, I live alone, but they will give me a roommate soon. The living situation is as follows: Each trailer is divided into three separate rooms, each with a door to the outside. The rooms do not connect. Two people occupy each little third of the trailer. So, each trailer houses 6 people. In each little 1/3 room, KBR (Kellogg, Brown, and Root) has placed two twin beds, two little wall lockers, and two bedside tables. If you’re lucky, you will also find two little lamps. If you are REALLY lucky, your lamp will be 220 V and will actually work in the little room. This living situation isn’t too bad (the A/C is kickin’), and it is actually unbelievably superduper if you happen to NOT have a roommate.

I’ve been in my trailer for a few weeks now, and I have yet to be issued a roomy. For a while, I had completely taken over both halves of the room, and I was ever so comfortable. I recon’d a really cool desk from the palace, and I had it in the middle of the room, against the wall with the window, and I had both beds made and half of my junk stowed on the non-roommate’s side of the place. I was so comfy that I even took to referring to my trailer hole as an “apartment”, even boldly calling it a “flat” once or twice. I figured the two previous occupants moved out, and one of the girls must’ve forgotten to sign out at KBR. I thought I might be roommateless and happy for the remainder of my 2.5 months in country.

One day, I walked in to find a horrifying message on the floor of my flat. It was a memo from KBR requesting that both occupants stop by the billeting office to provide information that was missing on our check-in documents. “That note surely spells doom,” I thought. I took the most appropriate action I could think of, which was to ignore the message entirely. I knew they would enquire about my roommate if I went in to see billeting, and I knew I couldn’t lie to them if asked a direct question. I never have had the ability to tell bold-faced lies (white lies, when appropriate, have been applied very strategically at times); just ask my mom. I decided that avoiding the situation would be the best course of action.

Well, I was only able to withstand the pressure of not knowing for a couple of days. On the third day, I went to billeting. I told them I had never seen or met my roommate, but I certainly didn’t know whether or not she actually existed, and they said they’d send someone over to rummage through our things. Anything left on the roommate-in-absentia’s side would be confiscated, and a no-kidding roommate would be assigned. I went back to my shrinking apartment with my tail between my legs to reposition my gear.

I have a complete inability to sleep when somebody else’s face is in the same room, so I knew I had to position things into a more “feng shui” arrangement if I planned on making it through my final 70+ days, so I got right to work. Typically, roommates position the wall lockers in the middle of the room to provide a sort of boundary. Well, our lockers happen to be the teensy, skinny, crappy kind that provide little to no cover and concealment, so I had to find another way to win. I went to the PX to search for appropriate materials with which to build a wall, but there was nothing suitable. I went around to the back of the building where they receive shipments and stuff, and I asked for the biggest cardboard box they had. I got a big one! I also recon’d a 2X4 and brought everything back to my hooch.

I put the lockers in the middle of the room, and I cut the cardboard to fit between them perfectly. I pinned my extra quilt to the 2X4 and hung it between the lockers, in front of the cardboard. I moved all my stuff, and suddenly I had a small-but-livable, and very private, 1/6th of a trailer. I will post pics of it for you as soon as I remember to take some.

Anyway, life, as always, is good. As soon as I get internet access here, it will be even better.

P.S. I forgot to mention these details of trailer life in the above narrative:

-- It is about 100 yds to the nearest toilet.

-- There is a stinky port-a-potty just steps away from my hooch that I can use when “little potty” is required.
-- I feel lucky to have a stinky port-a-potty so near to my hooch.
-- The super-sweet pull up bar that I had outside of my tent is now outside of my trailer, courtesy of a couple of “President Jackson’s” and my Phillipino friends.
-- The shower, too, is about 100 yds away and isn’t too crowded.
-- My friends live just across the street in another trailer park known as Dodge City North.
-- I never thought that I’d live in a trailer…not that there is anything wrong with that. On the contrary, I am starting to really love it.

I am relieved to have my pull up bar just outside my door.

This is my home. My hooch is the one in the far back.

This is my room. Notice the lovely homemade wall on the left.

2006-08-07T05:31:00.000-03:00

Internet Status Report (ISR):

LB and I were going to stay up until midnight to be the first to sign up for internet access from our trailers, but we discovered a snafu. The internet gremlins created some sort of problem for the Jackal Wireless folks, and they have delayed the "grand opening" of the network for new joins another week. We will have to wait until the 14th of August and then pray for all to go smoothly.

Background info: After 8+ months in a tent, LB (Little Barbara, our graphics artist and dear friend) and I got trailers. Ants and rats forced me to vacate the tent, and I cannot receive my usual portal, Freedom Wireless, in my new neighborhood. I live in Freedom Village, where Freedom Wireless doesn't work. Go figure. Soooo...I have to use Jackal. The thing is, Jackal remains very high-quality by limiting the number of subscribers, and I am one of the sad several who have to wait for them to increase their bandwidth and invite new subscribers. The good news is, Jackal will be faster and better than Freedom. The bad news is, I have to wait for it. SO...I won't get to chat regularly for yet another week. Waaa. But good things come to those who wait.

Wish me luck!

2006-07-25T02:58:00.000-03:00

This is one of the futile efforts we witness daily. The pond scum is thriving in the 120 degree heat and threatening to completely take over the palace lake. So, the U.S. is spending zillions of dollars to try to stunt this emerging threat. Third country nationals are hired to slave out in little boats in the heat to rake the weeds out of the pond. I need to get a better picture to illustrate the futility of these efforts. It's funny in a very sadistic way.

Hi, ya'll. There's not a lot here that is unpredictable, and anybody who has seen the movie "Groundhog Day" will understand when we use that analogy to describe our lives here. Everything is the same, every day. Wake up, visit the bathroom, then shower. Pick out something different than what you wore yesterday, if you can. Walk to work along your standard route, and wave to and/or avoid the same people you wave to and/or avoid each day (for a while, it was the Philippino/Indian?/American construction crew near the Palace who insisted upon very eager morning greetings...which non-morning people like myself are just NOT good at). Do some standard work stuff with the same people you always work with. Go to chow and look at people in the DFAC (chow hall/meat market). Walk back. More work. Walk home. Work out. Shower. Same, same, same. Every single day.

Well, yesterday, something different happened. Apparently, somebody noticed a suspicious vehicle with wires sticking out of it, and security cordoned off the area and called in the EOD teams. I knew nothing of this, of course, because I was in my office in the palace, and the car was out in front of the palace, near the gate. We didn't find out about the possible VBIED (vehicle-borne improvised explosive device, or "car bomb") until LB and I decided to go out to pick up her hand-me-down refrigerator from the overflow trailers. We were stopped at the palace's front doors by the security soldiers and informed of the investigation going on outside. OK. Cool. No problem. We went upstairs to our office cubicle to wait it out.

That is when I started to realize that I sort of LIKE groundhog day. I like my routine. You see, what happened was, the bomb squad took a while to give the all clear, so we ended up blasting through our usual "lunch at 1130" scheduled event. Hungry Coalition Forces members were gathering at the front doors, eager to get out and go to the chow hall. We were hungry, and we were used to our routine, and we didn't know what to do. We were 30 minutes off schedule by the time they signaled all clear (actually, I heard someone yell "Soup's on!" from down below to signify the opening of the flood gates that are the palace doors), and you'd have thought we were all going to die of starvation. Ridiculous. Thirty minutes late and we were completely discombobulated.

The comfort of our bland and familiar chow set us all back to normal, and we continued through the rest of our groundhog day. Aaaaaaaaand....dddddddd....THE END! The rest of the day was uneventful, and you're not gonna catch me complaining. I worked some more, went to Flak Club, worked a little more, watched "My Name is Earl", and went to bed.

2006-07-17T14:48:00.000-03:00

AK-47 Bayonet. Standard Iraqi issue. I've given out a few of these as gifts, and I sometimes forget to include the bit about how this bayonet has two hidden uses. This blog is designed to demonstrate the proper employment of the bayonet's other functions.

It’s more than just a knife for slashing and stabbing. It is also a pair of wire cutters and a hammer.

TO USE AS A WIRE CUTTER:

Hold your bayonet with the eyelet facing to the left. Your left hand should be on the sheath, and your right hand should be on the handle, as shown.

Without adjusting your grip, orient the sheath and bayonet as shown.

Now turn your left hand over, so that the back of your hand is toward you. Bring the blade and sheath tips together so that the sheath and bayonet are crossed. Match the rectangular protrusion (male end) on the sheath’s tip to the notch of the same shape (female end) in the bayonet’s blade.

The wire goes between the protrusion at the tip of the sheath and the sharp part of the knife’s spine. Cut in a scissor-like, chopping fashion.

FOR THE HAMMER:

To make a hammer, match the eye hole (where the rifle muzzle would go) with the slot in the sheath where the blade goes.

Grip by the sheath and hammer carefully.

2006-07-15T07:58:00.000-03:00

Welcome to my humble abode.

It's my day off, and I am bored to tears. The Slayer AND the Aussie pools are closed, and it's hot, and there's nothing to do. So I thought I'd blog. Haha. If it weren't for boredom, I'd never get a single blog done.

Recently, they opened up a cool new block of trailers here next to the tents. The new trailer section, called Red Leg, is the new "hip" neighborhood. Shane and Chris got rooms there, and I was assured by the KBR trailer guy that I would, too. He said there was no doubt. I didn't even care about getting a trailer until he said that, so, of course, I got my hopes up. See, Red Leg would be ideal, because it is very close to work, it's right next to my old tent neighborhood, and it is near my old familiar showers and toilets.

Well, I got called for a trailer, and it turns out it is in Freedom Village, not Red Leg. Before Red Leg was promised to me, I would have considered Freedom Village ideal. It's better than the other trailer area, Dodge City North, and it is considered a very good "neighborhood."

Well, the internet doesn't work there now, and it is a hike to the toilets and showers from there, so I haven't moved in yet. I am the only person in my tent, and it's rather comfortable, so I'm going to stay. I've an entire 10-person tent all to myself!

So, that's about it.

My mess.

2006-07-10T08:21:00.000-03:00

MISS

YOU!!!

2006-07-10T07:38:00.000-03:00

My “Defender Mama” behind the wheel of my new baby. Check out the pipes on Katie!

My parents are total rock stars, and I have pictures to prove it. My mom, Katie, drove 700 miles from San Jose, CA, to Boise, ID with my new Defender. She is now a certified “Defender Mama.” It’s a suitable title, I think. I mean, she’s totally hot, and totally buff, and she can Tai Kwon Do the crap out of anybody with her black-belt skills (seriously, my mom is a black belt). And it’s a good thing, too, because the poor woman got stuck in Winnemucca, NV, in the middle of nowhere, with a busted alternator. She got that fixed, plus a few other problems, and now my Defender is home, safe and sound. My parents have fallen in love with my new baby, and they have spent hours and hours fawning over her and pampering her. They scrubbed her up, even going so far as to hook their power washer up to the water heater so she could be scrubbed with hot water and a moisturizing body scrub. Afterward, my dad, Vaughn, who my friends here say looks like Sean Connery (my USNA friends call him the Silver Fox), even polished her with some sort of canopy cleaner. My parents are the best.

Sean Connery washes my car. OK, fine. It’s my dad, but LB thought he was Sean Connery.

2006-07-10T07:37:00.000-03:00

My expedition leader from Drive Around the World, Nick Baggarly, hid this Baltika 9 (the note says “Good job, Nancy!”) in my spare tire cover. The special significance is that that was our favorite beverage while we were driving through Siberia.

From chanda My friend Chanda, also a Drive Around the World teammate and dear friend, helped me acquire my Defender by picking it up from the seller and arranging to help my mom come and get it. She added the blue ribbons and a super-cool beaded keychain. Thanks, Chanda.

2006-07-04T07:54:00.000-03:00

Charlie's Angels
Check out the hot chick in the middle!

We had a smashing 4th of July celebration here at the Lincoln Group headquarters. Our pals were able to access a private swimming pool, and they invited us to celebrate with them. We had SO much fun. We swam and had a BBQ, danced, and took silly pictures. As these photos will attest, a good time was had by all.

The Lincoln microcosm…a small portion of the Lincoln Group. Jess, Arnoux, and Nadine.

Kristy gets launched by Shane and Mat. WEEEE!

LB keeps a safe distance from the shenanigans.

Mat, Kristy, Nancy, Brian pose for a self portrait.

2006-07-04T07:53:00.000-03:00

The hashers. Not a bad turnout at all for 6:30 in the morning!

We had a special 4th of July hash Tuesday morning, in lieu of our usual Sunday night hash. I am SO impressed with the hares, who brought red/white/blue things galore for all of us to rejoice with. (I’m aware that I ended that in a preposition.) They had leis, and hats, and tiny little flags and confetti, and even a patriotic piñata. The hash was speckled with red white and blue additives, and we followed the trail around the base with Old Glory a flappin’ in the breeze as we ran.

I love it when soldiers accessorize with their reflecto belts.

The hounds are hot on the trail…in more ways than one. (I can name 3 ways. How many can you name?)

The hash on the ground spells NBN, for “near beer near.” The hounds are refueling in the background.

One of our hares (on the right), and a hound. Check out the Uncle Sam piñata and the sweet M16! You won’t see those at most home town hashes…

The instigator. Our hare. I can’t tell you her hash name, because it is a secret.

2006-07-03T15:26:00.000-03:00

Flak Club plankowners: Ami, Raja, Nancy.

As I've mentioned in a previous blog or two, I run here each Sunday with the Lost Lake Hash House Harriers (L2H3).

Well, this Sunday's hash was cancelled in lieu of a special 0630 4th of July run Tuesday. A few of us were talking during Saturday's BBQ, and we decided it would be fun to hold a hash on Sunday, regular time, in addition to the 4th of July hash.

I sent a message out to the group, and I informed them of the following:

Hashers, A few of us were talking yesterday, and we decided there should be a hash run today, in addition to the 4th of July hash. To make it easy, we will forego the haring and the hashish and just "run"...

CheyenneDoHer and I are thinking we should do a Lost Lake H2 Flak Vest run. 1.66 miles. 'Round the lake...

Meeting at boxing ring, with flaks, at 1700. Be there or be square...

-T.S.

_________________

ONLY FOUR OF US SHOWED UP; GO FIGURE.

And here are some replies I received:

_________________

Hmmmmm, to "make it easy and forgo the haring and hashish and just 'run'" Sure doesn't sound like hashing to me at all, it just sounds like running. Which is not what we in the L2H3 do, last time I checked. Hope you enjoyed your run...

-Eunuch

_____________________

OK... Let me get my head wrapped around this...A (Former Marine) Female Officer in a largely Army-centric Male environment suggesting that we double-up on the weekend's Hashing activities by suggesting a 'Flak Vest' fun-run... HUmmmm?Now that is HARD! ... I don't know if I should Shamed or (what). Either way, I Like It!!! Sadly- I work nights and can not play. Maybe next time, T.S. I will however, be there with bells on Tuesday Morning!On-On!!!-

-RunsFromBeaver

_________________

At any rate, we decided, due to the success of our flak run, to form a new club. It isn't yet named, but we're thinking either "Can you Flak it?" or "Flak Club." Please go ahead and vote or send recommendations. We meet every Wednesday and Friday at Lost Lake, at 1830...for all you who are reading this from Iraq and would like to play. All levels of skills and abilities. Walkers welcome. Flaks required.

2006-07-03T15:20:00.000-03:00

Flak Club founders: Ami, Raja, Paul, Nancy.

The first rule of Flak Club is, you don't talk about Flak Club.

2006-07-02T06:21:00.000-03:00

My new automobile. 1993 NAS Defender 110.

Hello, boys and girls.

For the longest time, I have been desperate to own a Land Rover Defender 110. Well, after searching and searching online for these elusive creatures, I decided to give up my hopeless search. You see, Land Rover Defender 110s were only imported to the U.S. in 1993, and only in a limited quantity of 500. Land Rover enthusiasts think of the Defender as the best and most desirable Rover, so, as you can imagine, they are hard to come by. There's lots of collectors out there, and the 110 is often at the top of their list of desires.

The high demand and low quantity make the 110 extremely expensive, even though they are all 13 years old and a little weathered. Even rust buckets with high miles often go for $40K or more on Ebay motors. So, after months of searching, I gave up.

Recently, though, I was on the way home from the PX with my friends, and I saw one of the Aussie or Brit Defenders. I thought, "Man, I still love that vehicle." I got online as soon as I returned to the office, and instead of looking on Ebay, I searched AutoTrader.com. AND I FOUND ONE IN CALIFORNIA FOR A DECENT PRICE!!!

I made an offer, and he accepted, and now I have a Defender 110. Anyhow, I am psyched to get home and meet my new baby. My mom is flyig out this week to pick her up and take her to Boise until I return from here. Just wanted you all to know about my new addition! Yea!

Check out the details: http://www.airsoftwest.com/defender.html (Two corrections: the tranny/gearbox/etc. was replaced at 120k miles, not 80k, and it is 439 of 500, not 463.)

2006-07-01T06:58:00.000-03:00

M-16s getting friendly at the pool

We had an absolute blast during our first Saturday excursion to the Slayer pool, so we decided to host a BBQ there this Saturday. We invited the IED team, my team, and all of our fabulous friends.

A whole bunch of smokin'-hot boys and girls (the boys insisted) showed up (minus all but 3 of the IED team), and we had SO much fun. The PX was out of burgers, so we cooked filets and T-bones, and it was amazing. I don't want to talk too much about how excruciatingly fun it was, because I still want some of you to feel sorry for us for being here in Iraq. But it was GREAT! We all caught some rays, ate some yummy chow, played catch, and chatted with new friends. We had enough food to feed the whole pool, so we're pretty popular now. The good news is, it's only 5 days until our next pool day! Yea!!!

Business meeting.

No, they aren't Abercrombie models...they're USNA grads.

Hayder mans the grill...mmm....steak!

2006-07-01T06:22:00.000-03:00

Shane struts his stuff on the shore...

Me with my Hash buddies, Raja and Pete.

2006-06-24T16:03:00.000-03:00

The pool gang, from L to R: John, Nancy, Chris, Kristy, Hayder. This is the Slayer Pool. Check out that muscle head in the background trying to ruin the shot. Goofball. Those are Air Force guys. You gotta love a pool where people show up in uniform and carrying weapons...Shane's not pictured because he was out getting us some pizza.

Today was AWESOME! Last weekend, Chris (New New Guy) and I went to the pool on Camp Slayer. We both have Saturdays off, and we wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Folks have been touting the two pools here quite a bit and we decided to try Slayer first...the other pool is the Aussie pool, and it's just too close to the Palace and work.

Well, the pool was so great (not too crowded, not too hot) that we decided to have a go at it every Saturday. Today, we were also joined by Old New Guy (Shane), Kristy, and John and Haidar from the IED team.

We had tons of fun swimming and lounging and eating pizza. It was more crowded this week, but not so crowded that we didn't get a lounge chair, so it was tons of fun. People watching is always fun, especially at the pool.

Anyway, this blog is here to show you that nobody should feel sorry for us out here. It's not so bad.

2006-06-19T08:34:00.000-03:00

To see a HILARIOUS Saddam video, click HERE, and to read his blog, click HERE.

I have a lot to tell ya'll about. It's too bad the internet sucks so bad here that posting is next to impossible. Pictures are totally impossible to load at work, and the wireless net is too crowded by the time I get home from work to post photos, so I am at a loss. Now would be a very good time, but of course I left my photos at work. I'm in the tent now, waiting for Dave to wake up so I can say good morning. He's going out of town for a couple of weeks, and chatting might not be feasible.

Work is ok, but a certain entity keeps screwing things up, and it makes things very frustrating. I don't want to speak ill of any group in particular; I just want to vent a little. Of course, I can't really vent here, so I will just leave it at that. Somehow, even those few words have allowed me to feel a bit better. Whew.

It is hot as crap here. Let me give you a comparison you can understand. Have you ever baked cookies? Ever baked chicken? You know that waft of hot air you get as you open the oven while your face is right down at door level? You know how you fear for a moment that your eyebrows might have been torched off? Yeah, well, that's the feeling you get when you step outside in Iraq, and the feeling lasts all day long. We totally want out of the oven, but there is no relief. First of all, I just went for a 20-minute run outside, and it is about 110 F. I went to shower, and the water was scalding hot because it comes into the makeshift showers through an uninsulated pipe. 35 min after my shower, I am still sweating in my airconditioned tent. I am sitting here typing in my underwear to keep from soaking my clothes before I have to head back to work. It is 3:35 in the afternoon. Running or doing any physical outside is strongly discouraged. I am not good at following directions. Anyway, it's only going to get worse, and I am not prepared to move my workouts indoors. I also run in the mornings, with Sabah, but I'll tell you about that in another blog.

I just wanted to send a quick shout out while I had the energy and the desire. Four more months and I am outta here!

2006-06-14T04:10:00.000-03:00

OK, so, it has been a gross amount of time since I last blogged.

Well, I had a fairly miserable 48-hours of travel from Iraq to the U.S. for leave, but it was well worth it to be greeted at the airport by my perfect boyfriend, who was standing with the chauffeurs holding a sign that said, "Best girl in the world." I wasn't sure he meant me, but I took a chance, and I was right. We had an incredible time visiting with my entire family and a few of my dear friends.

Poor Dave had to suffer through meeting and hanging out with my parents, my brother, his lovely wife, my niece, my grandparents, my aunt/uncle/cousin, my crazy uncle and his charming wife, my best friend and her husband, their friends, my dear Land Rover friends, and a few others. He was a trooper through it all, and he even proclaims to have enjoyed every minute of it. I believe him, because his smile never left his face (nor did mine). Not surprisingly, all of the above-mentioned loved ones fell for Dave instantly, and they all think I should keep him. Hahaha. ;)

A few highlights:

Partying with my parents and Dave at my Aunt Nancy's house in Pauma Valley, California. It's a country club area northeast of San Diego, and it is gorgeous. My grandparents have had a place there since before I was born, and now my aunt has a second home there. I was hoping Dave would love it, and he does. I wish it were closer to San Diego and work, because I would kill to live there. We got to play with my niece, Kaile, and I was thrilled to see my bro and Stacey. My family hadn't been together since July 4, 2003, and that was also the last time I saw my brother. We're never in the same country at the same time...

Fishing with my Uncle Dick and Aunt Kathy on their 59-ish-foot yacht, Xiphius. We had a blast, even though the biggest fish we caught was only a few inches bigger than our bait. My dad and Dick say it is because my mom brought a banana on the boat. Apparently, bananas are banned from all fishing boats, because they make the fish disinclined to bite. That is not a joke. There were fish everywhere, according to the fishfinder, and Dick was beside himself trying to figure out why none were biting...and then he saw Stacey eating a banana and about died. All bananas had to be tossed overboard, and we all but gave up for the day. Dave didn't catch a fish, but he did manage to catch about a 10-ft piece of kelp.

Visiting with my great friend from USMC basic school days, Jen, and her husband Sean. Visiting her always makes me happy. They have a new house and are thrilled with life in Burbank.

Visiting with my Land Rover family, Bill and Marilyn. I love them to death. We met during the Land Rover G4 Challenge tryouts in Nov, 2002, and we've been friends ever since.

My incredible birthday dinner and birthday DAY with Dave. Can you say Ruth’s Chris and emerald/diamond earrings and bracelet!? (I think he likes me.) Dave spoiled me with the royal treatment. Also, I no longer have to save up for double pog day at the PX…because he bought me the Play Station Portable I’ve been wanting. Weeee! (On double pog day, the cardboard disks we use as coins count as double, up to 100$.)

It was very difficult leaving Dave, fam, and the U.S. to come back to Iraq, but them's the breaks. I have wonderful friends here, too, and the work is interesting. That said, I cannot WAIT for October, when I am fairly certain I'll be heading home for good.

My flight from San Diego to Baghdad was pretty good, although I did have to suffer through a 6-hour delay at the Amsterdam airport. I hate waiting around for flights. I used my time wisely, though, and stocked up on delicious Danish cheese, since the chow hall is completely devoid of good cheese.

OFF-THE-SUBJECT BREAKING RUMOR:
Between now and July 15, the PX will receive more than 3000 XBOX 360 systems ($400 ea). Insane. (Shane is my source, and he got it from the guy at the PX.)

2006-05-20T01:12:00.000-03:00

Hello, loyal listeners. I am in...

...AMSTERDAM!

I have 2 hours until my flight boards...and I need to get a stamp for my passport. Don't know if I'm gonna be able to do that, so I think I'll just wait until I can come back here and actually enjoy the city.

Anyhow, I just wanted to put in a very brief update.

ALSO, I want to send a SHOUT OUT to my cousin Matt in Hawaii. 'Sup, dude?

Peace. And we out.

2006-05-20T01:08:00.000-03:00

Since I think I am friends with Charlie Daniels now, I want to show you this awesome "editorial" he has on his website. Enjoy.

Charlie Daniels on Mexicans

By Charlie Daniels www.charliedaniels.com

Mexican Standoff

I don't know how everybody else feels about it, but to me I think Hispanic people in this country, legally or illegally, made a huge public relations mistake with their recent demonstrations.

I don't blame anybody in the world for wanting to come to the United States of America, as it is a truly wonderful place. But when the first thing you do when you set foot on American soil is illegal it is flat out wrong and I don't care how many lala land left heads come out of the woodwork and start trying to give me sensitivity lessons.

I don't need sensitivity lessons, in fact I don't have anything against Mexicans! I just have something against criminals and anybody who comes into this country illegally is a criminal and if you don't believe it try coming into America from a foreign country without a passport and see how far you get.

What disturbs me about the demonstrations is that it's tantamount to saying, "I am going to come into your country even if it means breaking your laws and there's nothing you can do about it."

It's an "in your face" action and speaking just for me I don't like it one little bit and if there were a half dozen pairs of gonads in Washington bigger than English peas it wouldn't be happening.

Where are you, you bunch of lilly livered, pantywaist, forked tongued, sorry excuses for defenders of The Constitution? Have you been drinking the water out of the Potomac again?

And even if you pass a bill on immigration it will probably be so pork laden and watered down that it won't mean anything anyway. Besides, what good is an other law going to do when you won't enforce the ones on the books now?

And what ever happened to the polls guys? I thought you folks were the quintessential finger wetters. Well you sure ain't paying any attention to the polls this time because somewhere around eighty percent of Americans want something done about this mess, and mess it is and getting bigger everyday.

This is no longer a problem, it is a dilemma and headed for being a tragedy. Do you honestly think that what happened in France with the Muslims can't happen here when the businesses who hire these people finally run out of jobs and a few million disillusioned Hispanics take to the streets?

If you, Mr. President, Congressmen and Senators, knuckle under on this and refuse to do something meaningful it means that you care nothing for the kind of country your children and grandchildren will inherit.

But I guess that doesn't matter as long as you get re-elected. Shame on you.

One of the big problems in America today is that if you have the nerve to say anything derogatory about any group of people (except Christians) you are going to be screamed at by the media and called a racist, a bigot and anything else they can think of to call you.

Well I've been pounded by the media before and I'm still rockin' and rollin' and when it comes to speaking the truth I fear not. And the truth is that the gutless, gonadless, milksop politicians are just about to sell out the United States of America because they don't have the intestinal fortitude to stand up to the face reality.

And reality is that we would never allow any other group of people to have 12 million illegals in this country and turn around and say, "Oh it's ok, ya'll can stay here if you'll just allow us to slap your wrist."

And I know that some of you who read this column are saying "Well what's wrong with that?"

I'll tell you what's wrong with it. These people could be from Mars as far as we know. We don't know who they are, where they are or what they're up to and the way the Congress is going we're not going to.

Does this make sense? Labor force you say? We already subsidize corporate agriculture as it is, must we subsidize their labor as well?

If these people were from Haiti would we be so fast to turn a blind eye to them or if they were from Somalia or Afghanistan? I think not.

All the media shows us are pictures of hard working Hispanics who have crossed the border just to try to better their life. They don't show you pictures of the Feds rounding up members of MS 13, the violent gang who came across the same way the decent folks did. They don't tell you about the living conditions of the Mexican illegals some fat cat hired to pick his crop.

I want to make two predictions. No. 1: This situation is going to grow and fester until it erupts in violence on our streets while the wimps in Washington drag their toes in the dirt and try to figure how many tons of political hay they can make to the acre.

No 2: Somebody is going to cross that border with some kind of weapon of mass destruction and set it off in a major American city after which there will be a backlash such as this country has never experienced and the Capitol building in Washington will probably tilt as Congressmen and Senators rush to the other side of the issue.

I don't know about you but I would love to see just one major politician stand up and say, "I don't care who I make mad and I don't care how many votes I lose, this is a desperate situation and I'm going to lead the fight to get it straightened out."

I don't blame anybody for wanting to come to America, but if you don't respect our immigration laws why should you respect any others.

And by the way, this is America and our flag has stars and stripes. Please get that other one out of my face.

Pray for our troops.

What do you think?

God Bless America

Charlie Daniels

2006-05-16T07:05:00.000-03:00

***NOTICE: BLOGGER HAS A LOT OF CRUDDY LITTLE QUIRKS, AND ONE OF THEM IS THAT SOMETIMES CERTAIN PHOTOS OR WHATEVER TEND TO INEXPLICABLY AND RANDOMLY CAUSE MY SIDEBAR TO GO TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE. SOMETHING IN THE PAST THREE BLOGS HAS TRIGGERED THAT OCCURRENCE, AND SINCE I DON'T HAVE TIME TO FIND IT, MY BLOG LOOKS CRAPPY. IT WILL CONTINUE TO LOOK CRAPPY UNTIL I CAN SPEND AN HOUR OR SO TROUBLESHOOTING IT. THANKS, BLOGGER!***

Dave's dad (Don) sent me a huge can of Jelly Bellys, and Kristy and I spent a good part of the morning fishing for our favorite flavors. Mine are, somewhat in this order, as follows: juicy pear, cantaloupe, latte, watermelon, lemon drop, buttered popcorn, and the bright red sour ones. Kristy's are buttered popcorn, blueberry, peach, very cherry, toasted marshmallow, and watermelon.

Anyway, I wanted to post the photos so you can see how we spent our morning. Don't worry, we also did some work.

THANKS FOR THE JELLY BELLYS, DON!!!

2006-05-15T07:15:00.000-03:00

Wow. Just as an FYI, we hear explosions here on a daily basis, and we usually ignore them. There's nothing else to do. Sometimes we can even feel them. Yesterday, we felt two. As it turns out, they were pretty bad, and they occurred just outside the main gated entry/exit between Baghdad and Camp Victory. We call it "Flying Man Gate", because of the statue of, um, a flying man that marks its location. Above is a photo I took of the gate on a recent run to pick up some items for work.

Well, the two recent explosions killed 17 or more Iraqis and one American civilian contractor. I pray these two cuties we nicknamed the "Pepsi Kids" (because they sell Pepsis) are ok. We hear some kids were killed, and many, many people were wounded.

Click here for full story: MSNBC.com.

At least 41 killed in weekend attacks across Iraq
2 U.K. soldiers slain; Shiite shrines destroyed; unity government in setback

Updated: 8:44 p.m. ET May 14, 2006

BAGHDAD, Iraq - A string of deadly attacks ripped through the Iraqi capital Sunday, killing at least 26 people and wounding nearly 70, police said. Six small Shiite shrines also were damaged in a series of blasts around Baqouba, a mixed Sunni Arab-Shiite region where sectarian tensions are running high.

Other attacks elsewhere in Iraq killed 15 people, including two British soldiers who were killed in a roadside bombing Saturday night.

Baghdad’s deadliest attack Sunday involved two suicide car bombs that exploded near a main checkpoint on a four-lane road leading to the international airport, killing at least 14 Iraqis and wounding six. The other 12 Iraqis were killed by four roadside bombs, three targeting Iraqi police patrols and one that exploded in an open market....con't...

2006-05-15T07:10:00.000-03:00

Some photos for you, from the past couple of weeks...

Recently, the Iraqi Army moved into a new compound here near the palace. It is situated between Al Faw and the overflow trailers where our other team works. It's also sort of close to our tent city.

These Iraqi Army soldiers must live in the new compound. I walked by them the other day on my way to a meeting at the overflow trailers. They saw my camera and insisted I take their picture. Nice guys.

Me and my Iraqi Army friends.

An unused guard tower near the palace, on the walking route along Saddam's canal that leads to the overflow trailers.

My new favorite fixture. I think he's a type of kingfisher. There are certain animals around here that we see every day. You know about the geese. You know about the fish. This little buddy is my favorite. He hangs out by the fish and catches the smaller fishies that come to eat the bread we throw to them.

Me on the balcony during a recent dust storm. It's the middle of the day, but the sun is almost totally obscured.

Dust storm. The tree is my wind indicator.

Sabah was hungry during our recent Iraqi food party. Our big bosses were in town, so we contractors had a party. The food was delicious, but several of us spent the next week liquefying all our meals, courtesy of a bug we suspect was lurking in the cucumber salad. I knew better than to eat vegetables...

This building neighbors the Marine building at the edge of the palace lake. This is the view from the roof of the Marine building. Niiiice.

As it turns out, my old boss is leading the Marines here. Major General Moore was the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit commander in 1999, when I was his public affairs officer. I love this guy.

2006-05-10T14:32:00.000-03:00

I apologize unreservedly to my faithful followers for my conspicuous absence from the blogosphere. Here I am. I am back. I offer no boring excuses. I was bad, and I humbly repent.

Tonight, we were supposed to have a one-hour, happy, good, brainstorming, fun-ish meeting with the general. Instead, we had what amounted to a 2.5-hour "suck" that had must of us drooling and cross-eyed by meeting's end.

The most important takeaway I got from that painful slog is this:

"I think, when I grow up, that all I really want to do is sell snow cones (or the like) for a living."

I am really, really, super duper, SO looking forward to my leave period beginning Friday the 19th...

2006-04-19T15:22:00.000-03:00

Mr. Charlie Daniels and me!!! He is a great American, and I love him. He gave us an amazing show here Tuesday night. More on that later...

Sawin' on a fiddle and playin' it hot.

READ SOON TO FIND OUT THE STORIES BEHIND THESE PHOTOS!!! (You'll have to wait, because I am very sleeeeeeepy.)

Only in Iraq: Brown skies and raining mud.

Dark and stormy clouds. I thought the rainy season was over, but it isn't. Still storming around here. I wish I hadn't sent my rain jacket home...

So, you're saying my clothes have been to prison...

I ordered some polo shirts from JCrew, and it was taking ages for them to arrive. I was worried something had happened to them, and then they arrived with a clue as to the problem. It seems they had been incorrectly routed to Abu Ghraib. My shirts have been to prison!

2006-04-19T15:10:00.000-03:00

MORE TEASER PHOTOS!!!!!!!!

2006-04-10T03:26:00.000-03:00

Me, on tactical day.

Rats! Rats! Big freaky rats, with "tails" THIS LONG! (a paraphrase)

I barely slept a wink last night.

Lately, I have been having a lot of trouble falling asleep in the evening, and I'm not sure why. I get sleepy during the day, and I am usually sleepy at bedtime, but when it is time to put my head down, I just can't seem to fall asleep.

One of the problems in recent nights has been the termites. In our tent, we have these enormous bugs that look like big, black, evil ants with wings. They are multiplying in number, and they are intimidating as can be. We figure they must be termites, so I guess they don't bite, but they have an abdomen and lots of creepy legs, so I am afraid of them. One was crawling on my arm last night, and another perched itself in the middle of my computer screen while I was typing, so I kept thinking I had bugs crawling all over me while I was trying to fall asleep.

A bigger problem is the extreme dryness of the air. When I'm laying there, breathing, the air coming in through my nose is so dry that it sort of squelches the back of my throat. It's not pain that I feel, but it's, like, irritating and dry. It's hard to describe, but I bet you know what I'm talking about. Well, to overcome this problem, I have to put my covers in front of my mouth so my own breathing creates a sort of humidifier effect. That works for a while, but only if I fall asleep right away. If it doesn't work immediately, I end up feeling like I can't breathe (I HATE having something in front of my face, because I don't like the warmth, and that's why it can be hard for me to sleep in a sleeping bag when it is freezing cold outside, for example). So I have to move the covers to breathe the cool air again, and my throat gets dry, and it is a never-ending and vicious circle. It's infuriating, and I end up all groggy when I wake up.

Well, last night was no exception. I tossed and turned until maybe 0100 or 0200, when the Vick's 44 finally kicked in (I have a cough/stuffy nose, which is likely brought on by allergies). Well, I was sound asleep when a blinding light jolted me out of a dream at about 0430. Since I had accidentally left my cell phone/alarm clock in the office, I was relying on a crappy clock that I pulled out of storage for the night, and it still had pre-daylight saving time on it, leading me to believe it was only 0330. What in the WORLD would somebody be doing getting up at this insane hour!? It was one of my eight young roommates, an nice Air Force staff sergeant named Nicole. She always puts the light on for a few minutes, and it always wakes me up, but then she extinguishes it and I fall asleep. Thinking this was a normal, albeit earlier, morning for her, I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. BUT THE AIR WAS SO DRY!!!

I tossed and turned, and just as I was drifting off, the lights went on again. This time, I could hear three excited voices. In my half-sleep, I thought I heard Nicole say something like, "I'm UA. I just walked out. I'm packing my stuff, and I'm going home." Ohmigosh. Crisis. I rolled over, groggy, and saw her flip off the light and walk out of the tent.

"What's wrong?" I whispered to Donna, next to me. "There's a rat in the tent. Nicole saw it dragging a Power Bar out."

Wheels turning in my brain...slowly grinding...fuzzy picture becoming clearer...

"Oh, for crying out loud," I said, rolling over and covering my head with my pillow, reinserting my foamy earplug. For the love of God, I just wanted sleeeeeep.......

0500. The light goes on again, more voices, lots of shuffling. Our youngest roommate, Katie, the cutest little 20-year-old Army sergeant you've ever seen (or you've never seen), is up now, looking around frantically with her flashlight. All three girls are up. The rat is back. I look at my clock, see that is says 0400, and decide I should defer to my wristwatch. Just as I suspected. The clock was wrong, and it was 0500, and I had three more hours to try to sleep. I took a trip to the toilets and back, and they were still hunting for rodents.

I put my head down, closed my eyes, and suddenly I heard scratching below my head. Something was under my bed!!! EEEEEK! I don't mind mice, or even small rats, but this didn't sound small, and I don't want ANYTHING crawling near my head! I shined my light around, but I couldn't see a thing. I put my head down again, and, scritch, scrinkle, claw, shuffle, shuffle, SOMETHING IS RIGHT BY MY FREAKIN' HEAD! And it's not afraid! I was bolt upright in bed, fumbling for my light and afraid to turn it on, certain that it would shine into the slobbering face of a Hollywood special effects-like R-O-U-S (rodent of unusual size). (The Princes Bride. The Fire Swamp. Am I more afraid of the rat, or the midget inside of the rat costume? Anyway, back to the story.) For the life of me, I could not find that rat, but I knew it was there, somewhere, lurking.

Several of the girls have food in the tent, which is the only reason a rat would ever dare enter, so I mentioned that everybody needs to get rid of any food they have. I knew that all I had was a bag of almonds (gotta bring that to work in the morning) and a square or two of chocolate, which was somewhere on my nightstand. I turned on my flashlight so I could put the almonds and the chocolate where I wouldn't forget them in the morning. Almonds, check. Chocolate, not so check. Where was it?! I know it was there before bed, because I remember remarking that it had melted when the A/C broke earlier in the day. But where was it now?! I searched the floor and under my bed. It was nowhere to be found. Oh. My. Gosh. The rat must have crawled onto my nightstand and made off with my chocolate bar. And if he had climbed onto the nightstand, he had probably crawled onto my bed, and possibly even ON MY HEAD! Oh, the HORROR!!!

I tried to put the rat out of my mind, as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, I felt something run down my left side, around my feet, and back up my right side. The rat was doing laps on top of me, on my quilt! Or was he? I tried to scream. I tried to launch the rat through the air. I tried to tell the girl next to me that I had found the rat. But I couldn't move, or yell, or scream, or even lift my head or a hand. I was in that magical state between dreaming and awake, and I couldn't do a thing. The part of me that was dreaming was trying desperately to get away from the giant rat, and the part of me that was awake couldn't move at all under the weight of a sleeping Nancy. I was trapped, and I didn't know what was real. This went on for the rest of the night, in between other vivid, rat-related dreams.

During one part of my dream, I caught the rat, and he was white with black spots, like cookies and cream ice cream. But he could squeeze through the tiniest of cracks, and he got away. I looked for him under my bed and found, instead, a cream-colored mouse. The girls yelled at me to hit it with my shoe, but I protested that I didn't want to squish it. They insisted, and I gave it a whack, splitting it's little mouse skull open. A blister began to form on the wound, and they screamed at me to get it out of the tent before it bled on anything. When I got outside, the tent was suddenly some sort of a rustic Chinese restaurant/cabin, and there was a Chinese fountain on the porch. I put the mouse in the fountain, and his skin and flesh melted off of his bones. Eeew. Creepy. What in the world was happening? It was a clean skeleton, and I could see red tissue through it's thin, transparent skull bones. And then--could it be? It squeaked! It started squeaking and moving slightly, and then it was fully animated. The mouse skeleton was alive, evil, and looking to kill its, um, killer. It wanted my blood. Someone, I don't know who it was, but it was a boy, grabbed the skeleton with some pinchers and carted it off, and I spent the rest of my weird night trying to escape rats and dead mice and a catatonic zombie state. It was awful.

When my alarm woke me at 0800, I was barely able to get up. When I did, though, I was ever so happy to see that the tent hadn't been turned inside out, there was no sign of blood or dead rats, and everything seemed to be back to normal.

We're required to have our kevlars and flak jackets at work today, so I had to dig mine out from between my bed and the tent, at the head of my bed. Guess what I found under my duffle bag?

My chocolate bar. With tiny little teeth marks and a hole gnawed through one corner...

The rodent of unusual size creeping through our tent.

2006-04-07T10:46:00.000-03:00

We got a mass email today that made me chuckle. Apparently, the gym here is getting a portable "defoliator." I was shocked at first, wondering who in his right mind would want to have his dead, dry skin removed right their in the gym, in front of everybody. Then I realized that such a device would have been referred to as an "exfoliater", if that were even a word, and I was temporarily relieved. Then I was suddenly afraid that a "defoliator" must be something that rips your hair out at the follicles...ohmigosh! Finally, Babs figured out that to "defoliate" must mean to remove the foliage from, or, in other words, to deprive a plant of its leaves. Well! Fantastic! That portable defoliator is a welcome relief, for it should help with the leafy overgrowth problem from which we are all apparently suffering. I haven't noticed an abundance of leaves at the gym, but I've been doing my workouts outdoors all week. Frankly, I am afraid to go to the gym now, because I don't want the new defoliator to attack me. Even worse, I would hate to see someone have a heart attack and witness a first responder breaking out a leaf-eating bug (or maybe even a pair of hedge clippers!?) to try to resuscitate the patient! Talk about a lawsuit!

Of course, I had to reply to the guy who sent the email with a smart-aleck remark. I messed with him about the defoliator and his misspelling of "Charlie Daniels." As it turns out, I am not the only one to pick up on the defoliator thing. When the chaplain made fun of him, he sent back a reply about how he hadn't "speel checked it." I guess he's taking a lot of flak for his inadvertent substitution of defoliator for defibrillator, but I think everybody learned something today.

2006-04-06T11:00:00.000-03:00

My little camera did a poor job of capturing the wind and whitecaps, but here's a shot, anyway.

WOW! It is WINDY outside! It started out as a regular day, but by the time I finished my workout after lunch, the sky was dark and stormy. Sprinkles were falling as I made my way back to the palace from the tents. All the intolerable mud from last week's rain is just now drying up, so it's about par for the course that Iraq's weather gods would decide to dump on us again. I'd much rather it be sandy and dusty than muddy. This evening, though, New Girl and I went out to the balcony to check out the weather, and the skies had brightened up a bit. Oh, but how the winds had kicked up! One gust just about sent us both plummeting over the balcony's edge! The whitecaps had kicked up on the lake making the water resemble the ocean. If I had a windsurfer here, I'd be cruising!

This is a bridge to the palace that we blew up on our way into town.

2006-04-05T11:26:00.000-03:00

Too many fish in the sea!

Recently, we began anticipating the arrival of two more team mates, and we each became anxious about the lack of space in our cramped little cubicle of an office. Desperate, we combed the palace for more available space. The building manager offered me the little enclave that serves as the entryway to an non-operational elevator, and I jumped on it. We had it measured, and two companies gave me quotes for building a fourth wall (including a door) and a couple of desks. I had the electrician and the computer bubbas ready to install power and drops. I had even discarded the ridiculous quotes and found my own desk supplier. I figured out that three people could move in to the little space for less than $2000. Excited, I took the proposal to our client. For whatever reason, and I'm sure it was a good one, he said, "No." When I approached him again to see if he'd have a problem with it if we paid for it, he still said, "No." So, you see, I'm sure he has a good reason. He must, because he also said something about how I had better not dare ask him again.

Sooo...we are now up to full capacity for the first time since the contract begain, with New Girl bringing our strength to nine members. New Guy Chris and New Girl Barbara are very welcome additions to the team, and we are all very happy with our little work family. Everybody gets along swimmingly, and we are a great team. Heck, our Old New Guy, Shane, is even getting used to answering to the name his mama gave him, and he has forgiven the new New Guy for taking his old pet name.

We have gone to two shifts to alleviate some of the space problem, and we are praying for more space in the meantime. New Guy is on night shift now, but he is eager to come back to dayshift tomorrow. New Girl is busily getting her feet wet here on day shift, and things are looking good. I still want that little elevator office space, though...

2006-04-02T15:15:00.000-03:00

The Glass Apple

Below is the funniest Ebay ad I have ever read. My friend Erin sent it to me, and I have to post it here. I am actually tempted to buy it just because it is so well written that I suspect the author is either famous or soon to be famous, and his former apple of glass could become worth its weight in gold. Anyway, check this out:

There comes a time in every man's life when his dad takes him aside and gives him a glass apple.
At least, I'm assuming there is, because that's what my father did.

When your dad gives you a glass apple, you're left with many questions. Who makes glass apples? Where did my father come to possess a glass apple? Why is he giving me a glass apple?

The answers are Tiffany's, I Don't Know and I Really Don't Know, respectively.

There may be a tendency to think that the acquisition of a glass apple is one of life's milestones - much like graduation, marriage and the birth of a child. But upon further reflection it just appears that my father had a glass apple and didn't particularly want it around the house.

So he gave it to me, his first-born son.

As I've mentioned, it's a Tiffany's glass apple, made by Germans. Is that special? I don't know.

I've read a lot of books, but I've never gleaned from any of them just who has the best glass apples. I still don't know why they exist in the first place. They're hardly practical. Useless in salads, not a cost-effective way to brown-nose a teacher, and if one struck Newton on the head we'd have been short one smart guy and his theory of gravity.

Obviously it's unused, as far as glass apples go. It looks just like it did the day it was made, for whatever reason it was made.

For measurement purposes it's about the same size as a healthy, conventional apple. It comes in the very same Tiffany & Company box my father handed to me the day I joined the ranks of the glass-appled.

I've thought long and hard about holding on to this and making it an heirloom. I've tried to picture sitting down with my son in 30 years and handing him a glass apple. Perhaps I'd create a handover ceremony of sorts, with music and incense. I'd wear a tuxedo and present the glass apple on a velvet pillow. And he'd cry and thank me and promise to uphold whatever values a glass apple might represent. Then I'd climb a mountain and will myself to death.

But I can't do it. The glass apple has to go.

It would be my pleasure to sell you the aforementioned apple. No questions. No judgments. Just two consenting adults engaging in a perfectly legal transaction centered around see-through fruit.

Please, buy this glass apple.

And the Q&A are funny, too.

Q: are you sure you really want to sell it? you may end up missing it so!! I too, am the holder of the family glass apple! It has traveled many miles to many homes of mine and lived in the closet for many many years. Now in my new home near the beach it finally has a place of honor. What changed? My Father passed away in July and I moved in July and finally am all unpacked and it took having no parents left for me to find that apple a place out in the open!!!!! I was told that this apple was given to my Mom when she was a Nurse and a patient gave it to her to thank her for her kind care!! Thought you might appreciate my glass apple story. T

A: Your glass apple has a sweet story behind it. Mine was simply clutter. Hence the difference between heirloom apple and eBay apple.

Q: I don't have any money, but I do have a really great recording of Glass Onion, from the White Album. Actually it's straight off of the White Album, on a high quality cassette tape. Would you be interested in a trade?
A: Sweet. Can you throw in a cable that can connect my Walkman to iTunes?

Q: YOU DO REALIZE I DONT EVEN WANT THIS 7UCKIN APPLE....I THINK YOU WRITE SO WELL I AM HYPNOTIZED!!! EXCELLENT WRITING!!!PEACE111 zzzzzzz.....must have apple....zzzzzzz....must have apple PEACE BWK
A: Thank you for your kind words - which carry even more weight when accompanied with overbidding via PayPal.

Q: I am fine for glass apples but I am desperate for a pair of leather pants. Can you help me?
A: Nobody can help you if you're desperate for leather pants.

Q: Does this apple relate to Eris and Discordianism?
A: You'd have to ask the apple.

Q: I have the answer to your mystery quesion of 'Why is he giving me a glass apple?' I used to ask the same question of my mother, although not specifically with regard to glass fruit. My mother continually gives me little knick-knacks that no sane person needs. She then comes to my house and criticizes me for all the clutter, 80% of which is her knick-knacks, many stacked up still in their boxes. I eventually formed the theory that it's a game that some especially twisted parents play with their adult children. I think they're trying to get back at us for some egregious past behavior - such as being born.
A: So we're basically storage units, is what you're saying.

Q: Does this apple have any lineage or connection to a 'Snow White'?
A: That's best left up to conspiracy theorists or Wikipedia.

Q: You're hysterical!! I'm not going to bid, but thank you so much for your humor... my day started with a chuckle thanks to you! Good luck~!
A: Chuckle: $5. I take PayPal.

Q: As apples come from trees and, so I've heard, money grows on trees, are real apples or glass trees an acceptable form of currency?
A: Glass trees present portability issues that can't be addressed with conventional wallets. Anywhere they accept apples as currency probably has warlords, and as such is worth avoiding.

Q: Are you Christopher Walken?
A: No. But Walken reading this listing would be an awesome podcast. If only I knew him and how to make a podcast.

Q: Wouldn't a still life painting, of glass fruit, be better refered to as a window?
A: I'd have to know where you'd hang it before I could answer clearly.

Q: Might you not regret this sale if your father ends up giving you a glass fig or banana next?
A: Only if I were painting a still life.

2006-04-01T11:48:00.000-03:00

YUCK! I thought the rain was finished for the season! I was so confident in my hypothesis that I even shipped my rain coat home. Foolish me. It rained today, and now we are all muddy again. Thank goodness I still have my Wellies!