As I watched South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut the other night, a parody formed in my mind:

Men, when youÂ’re out there, in the battlefield, and youÂ’re looking into the beady eyes of an insurgent as he charges you with his bootleg DVD (or whatever he has), and people are dying all around you, just remember what the Left says: "Horrific, deplorable Iraqi civilian deaths are OK, as long as Saddam caused them and not the USA." That is what this war is all about!

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Get 'er done, guys.

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No word from my husband, but I can assume he won't be calling for a while. His best friend emailed me to say that my husband signed for a lemon tank, so he was working as hard as he could to replace the broken track before they left. Best friend said he was sent to the email specifically by my husband to write me and tell me he loves me.

A secondhand love letter (riddled with soldier swear words) is better than nothing at all...

Best friend concluded with

But trust me...you have nothing to worry about...he's going to do a mission that you can be very proud of. It's a big one.

MORE TO GROK:

Spoke too soon; the husband just called. Ten minutes sure goes fast.

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Offical word came through this evening that my husband is in fact moving closer to the heat. I haven't heard from him personally, but he will be leaving sometime soon to move to an area "where he's needed". This move could be for anywhere from 2 weeks to 3 months; my only hope is that wherever he goes, he's safe. And that maybe he gets to contact me somehow. As I joked with my father-in-law tonight, our communication system sure can't get any worse! Maybe his moving will have some advantages.

Hell, I can hope so, right?

I can't say I'm not worried -- he's my best friend and my whole life -- but all I can do is remind myself that he's smart and prepared. That thought gives me the confidence and fortitude I need to accept his new mission.

And if there's something I've learned from life, it's that there's always someone who has it worse.

Time to listen to I Won't Back Down again...

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When my friend from high school told me about spiders in Afghanistan as big as your head, I thought he was exaggerating.

Dang.

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I have a nervous stomach today, but it helps me keep things in perspective and keep my laser beam focused to read warbloggers.

It helps to hear Bill Whittle say this:

Then be silent and introspective, for today our men and women are dying for the one idea worth dying for. And take from their sacrifice not defeat and sadness, but a solemn and sacred appreciation that three or four nations throughout an entire world that quivers in fear of these savages has the guts and the courage and the will to finish this job and bring freedom and security to a people that may not yet have earned it.

It helps to hear Zeyad say this:

No one knows where it is all heading. If this uprising is not crushed immediately and those militia not captured then there is no hope at all. If you even consider negotiations or appeasement, then we are all doomed.

It helps me to hear from my husband's best friend that he's jealous of those who get to take it to the enemy. His enthusiasm and confidence is catching.

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They're talking about shuffling troops around in Iraq, moving people where they're needed during this volatile week. My husband is located in a relatively safe section of Iraq; his main concern so far has been how to get supplies to the neighboring Iraqis. I have a feeling he won't be in that area for long when he's needed elsewhere.

After reading the news yesterday night, I awoke this morning to a feeling of anxiety. No phone call in the middle of the night. No email. Nothing telling me what's going on in my husband's company. I couldn't even read blogs; after half an hour I just shut it down and went back to bed. And when I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore, I knew what I wanted to do.

I wanted to call a friend.

My definition of friend has changed tremendously since last year. I've really reflected on who I want to share my life with, and I've narrowed the list of people I'd approach in a crisis. Here on post, there's a feeling of walking on tiptoes, not wanting to stress anyone out more than they are already. No one wants to hear my problems, because they are all looking for ways to deal with their own. And as much as I trust my favorite friend here on post, her husband is on rear detachment, so it's sometimes hard for her to relate.

So I called Tim.

He talked about the agony of being so near the finish line and seeing the goalpost move. I talked about the agony of uncertainty, of not knowing where my husband is or what he may be doing. We just talked, venting our frustrations for a few minutes, as friends do.

And I feel a whole lot better.

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Read Blueshift and Annika today.
That's all I can muster right now...

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Kate is right: if our military is forced to take down American flags in Iraq during this horrible month of fighting, then we must fly them on our blogs in their honor. It's the least we can do...

Thanks, Jim.

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Jason Van Steenwyk eloquently fisks the "Market forces ensure that a volunteer army will necessarily be an army of the poor" article in the Progressive.

The plus side of the deployment is that my husband is making more money than we know what to do with. Our grocery bills have shrunk by $200 per month since he's gone, we saved $500 cutting him from insurance, and he's making much more than he did before he left, due to his promotion and deployment benefits. We may miss each other immensely, but we're sure not poor.

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After reading this, it really made me feel better to read this.

Keep up the good work, Tim.

By the way, everyone, CPT Patti is scheduled to come home this weekend...

MORE:

Or perhaps she's not. Poor Tim.

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Twelve Marines are dead, and this is what I read:

[Coalition spokeswoman Paola] Della Casa said the Iraqi attackers used civilians as human shields, and a woman and two children were among the dead.

I've always tried to maintain my resolve throughout this war. When other wives say that they wish we could just nuke Iraq into a parking lot and bring our husbands home, I always tried to remember that what my husband is doing there is necessary for the future of the Middle East. I've maintained my optimism and idealism, even saying "Our soldiers are lucky to be part of something so monumental in history. When the puzzle is complete, all their work will make sense, and a beautiful new Iraq will emerge from the pieces."

But today I'm not so resolved. We're fighting to save a country from itself. As Victor Davis Hanson said Sunday, "Are the citizens of Fallujah the victims of Saddam, or did folk like this find their natural identity expressed in Saddam?" I'm starting to wonder about that myself.

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We interrupt this back and forth over my English textbook to bring you some much-needed humor.

Deskmerc puked on a bum

Kennedy, Daschle Fined for Celebration Over Rice Testimony

Super Mario: Reloaded (via Esotericus)

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My parents live in P-town, so this is probably something they should be aware of. Maybe they could go stage a counter-demonstration. Dang, I wish I were home right now!

Activists will protest the use of Caterpillar bulldozers to destroy Palestinian homes, at the company's annual stockholders meeting April 14 in Chicago. An "International Day of Action Against Caterpillar" demonstration will be staged April 23 at corporate headquarters in Peoria.

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I finally got a call from the husband last night. At 1240, which is 0240 in Iraq. This is the only time he could find in his day to call me, which makes me feel a little crazy. Apparently, the commander has said that no one is allowed to go to the phones unless they all go together, which would mean a group of 18 driving over to use four phones. None of them have five hours to kill waiting in line with each other, so they never get to go. The husband could technically go since he's the LT, but he doesn't go if his soldiers aren't allowed, which is the reason why 15 days passed between his phone calls. I'm really disappointed that they have this rule there, not for myself but for him; he sounded really beat down. When I asked him how he was doing, he said, "I'd be doing better if I could talk to you more often." I think soldiers need contact with their families as a way to unwind and vent, and I'm disappointed that his company is being denied phone use. But they are moving to another camp in the next two weeks, so when the phones are right there instead of three kilometers away, perhaps the rules will change a little. I hope so; that was the worst I've heard him so far.

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I didn't check my email until it was too late, so I didn't get to participate in the Right-Of-Center Bloggers Select Their Favorite Contemporary Dinner Guests over at RWN. The list sounds pretty good to me -- I wouldn't mind eating dinner with most of these people -- though my list would have leaned more towards bloggers. I can safely say I'd feel more honored to meet Victor Davis Hanson than Condoleezza Rice, more excited to eat dinner with James Lileks than Mel Gibson, and more nervous to meet Steven Den Beste than just about anyone in the world.

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David from Photon Courier asked for more details about the textbook items I discussed this weekend.

These examples came from an exercise on sentence generating in Chapter 3 The Sentence: Combining, Generating, Judging, which had nothing to do with persuasion, argumentation, or anything other than grammar. In fact, on the first page of the chapter where it introduces independent and dependent clauses, the sole example given is:

The level of poverty and squalor in large cities is appalling when one considers our country's wealth.

Can you pick out the dependent clause? Ha. The directions for the sentence generating exercise were to add a clause or phrase to each sentence provided (to practice working with dependent clauses and description). Thus these three sentences:

a. One of the odd things foreigners notice about Americans is their intolerance.
b. This intolerance frequently extends to race, creeds, and role expectations.
c. It often baffles foreigners, many of whom regard the United States Constitution as enshrining just the opposite principles of tolerance and understanding.

were fleshed out into this example given at the end of the chapter:

One of the odd things foreigners notice about Americans--whether Republicans or Democrats, urban dwellers or country folks--is their intolerance. This intolerance frequently extends to race, creeds, and role expectations, carrying with it a willingness to shun and physically punish the ones perceived as different. It often baffles foreigners, many of whom regard the United States Constitution, with its emphasis on respect for individual freedoms, as enshrining just the opposite principles of tolerance and understanding.

And the other sentences didn't lean Right by any stretch. My quick version of their topics:

1. A new real admiral takes over a fleet and waits for the enemy.
2. Baby boomers worry about infation and interest rates.
3. We must worry about nuclear holocaust.
4. Americans are intolerant.
5. Tennis is a sport for the millions.
6. We all struggle over physical traits that make us feel different.
7. The government should provide jobs for everyone.
8. Imagination is more important than knowledge.
9. Geoffrey was far from his goal of climbing the hill.
10.My anthropology teacher loved teaching.

The other seven are blandly non-controversial. Why the examples about intolerance and socialism?

How about another example from the chapter?

The pure individualist is an unhappy person whose memories of selfish behavior haunt her.

Compare that to the non-controversial example that follows it:

Newton's analysis of the light in a rainbow was a brilliant achievement that few people have matched.

There was one example of sentence combining that was not really biased either way:

a. The trouble between the Israelis and Palestinians is a clash between two cultures.
b. These cultures are fighting for supremacy in the Middle East.

(That one could have been a lot worse! Or a lot better...)

The only Right-leaning sentence example I could find was way down in Chapter 14 Causal Analysis:

Admissions quotas based on sex, ethnic background, or age are bad because they discriminate against the capable student.

No Right-leaning sentences in Chapter 3, though one of Joanne Jacob's readers says that we can find the same number of Right-leaning examples as we can Left-leaning, so this doesn't mean anything. On the contrary, I think there are more Left-leaning examples in Chapter 3 than I'd consider balanced.

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I'm growing as a person.

When another dissenting reader first used to come around here and leave comments, it used to make me so mad. I would absolutely fume at home, complaining to my husband that I wished this guy would leave me alone and that I really thought he was wrong, but didn't know how to counter him. I would lie in bed thinking about it, wondering what I could say, and I would be overcome with anger and worry.

I resolved on New Year's to learn to be bemused. So far I think I've been doing a great job of reaching my goal; at least now I don't let things affect me so much to where I can't sleep at night.

Look, the title of my blog is trying to grok. Trying. I would never be one to say that I've got the world all figured out, or that my way of thinking is the only one. I'm open for suggestion. But there's a difference between suggestion and beating someone over the head until they give in. There's a difference between Joshua coming here to have a healthy debate about Israel/Palestine and someone coming here to insult me on three different comment threads.

And, I'm sorry, but the idea that my disgust with vandals who care more about putting Bush down than respecting a historic monument would dishonor my husband makes me laugh instead of fret. Laugh. I'm at the point where I can laugh at this stuff, which means I've done a whole lot of personal growing since I started this blog.

Deal with this: I'm bemused.

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I've said before that I think many on the Left use the empty Support Our Troops claim to soften the blow when they rally against President Bush. (Others just say what they really mean.) Most of the time I doubt their sincerity, because you can't fully support the troops without understanding them. So I wasn't that surprised when I found this today on LGF:

Sometime overnight, someone used yellow spray paint to write “Kill Bush” on a section of the memorial where names of local veterans are displayed on a sloping wall. The same slogan, along with others, was repeated on the back of the memorial.

A lot of people will do whatever it takes to get their point across, even if it comes to vandalizing something as significant as a veteran's memorial. As long as word gets out that Bush is evil. I've come to expect this from the Left, and it really makes me sad.

Comments of some others who stopped by the memorial Saturday morning are unfit for publishing in a family newspaper.

I wish I could have met and talked to those people.

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If you're not reading Cavalier's Guardian Watchblog, you should be. I found Cav via the comments section at Right Wing News months ago, and everything he's written has been high quality. His post from this weekend refuting all of the attacks on President Bush is phenomenal. Go read it.

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