Thursday, October 16, 2003
Today, I was sitting on a park bench, reading my book and smoking a cigarette, when the most horrible thing happened. I took the last few drags from my smoke and then tossed the butt on the ground. Within seconds a pigeon ran over and scooped it up into his beak. A couple of moments later, the pigeon freaked out and spit it out onto the ground. Then, I SWEAR he looked at me in the eye with hatred and flew off. It was bizarre and I felt terrible. And then I laughed and laughed. Yeah, it’s MY fault you ate that butt. My fault. Myyyy fault. Ok enough.
I had pizza for lunch and now my belly bubbles with anger. Yeah, it’s MY fault that my belly is bubbling with anger. MY fault. Ok enough.
Last night I went home and surprised hamster Jim and hamster Kim with some fun new toys for their cage. Since they currently live in an aquarium, I was able to buy a new top with maze-like tubes sticking out of it. Now they can leave the cage and run around the tubes for awhile. It’s great and amusing and they seem to really love it. I also bought them some fun new treats and some new yarn-like bedding. Of course Kimberly has stolen all the new bedding and put it on her side of the cage. Poor Jim sits, frozen, in the corner of the cage, naked. That selfish Kimberly…she’s such a cunt.
I am busy making my Christmas Wish List for my mother. She has been on my ass about getting it to her as quickly as possible. She likes to shop for months before Christmas. I think it takes her mind off of the bad things going on in her life. This time around…my brother not being able to be with us during any of the holidays. When I asked my mom what we were going to do for Christmas this year in order to make it special…she said “Your father and I were thinking about taking you all out to dinner and then to a movie”. Thanks mom…the typical Jewish Christmas.
The ARMY offered my brother a two-week leave package since he is going to be in Baghdad for over a year. Instead of taking the leave time, my brother gave it up to one of the men in his unit. According to my bro, the guy he gave it to just had a baby and was unable to be there for the birth. When this story got back to me, I was so proud of my brother that I literally burst into tears. My mom cried too, but her response was “How could he DO that? Doesn’t he know how badly I miss him? Babies don’t have the recognition of whether they see their father or not?!!?” Ok, maybe she didn’t go that far, but she was puh-retty upset. We are all proud of Winfield, but it totally sucks being on the other end of all of this. We miss him so badly.
Sometimes I sit around and fantasize about the day he will come home. I think about what my face will look like when I see him walk off the plane, or if I will cry or not. Often I picture myself running up to him and tackling him to the ground, pinning his skinny, Iraqi weakened body to the floor. What will we have for dinner the first night he is home? Will he look as different as he must feel? War changes people and I wonder what kind of change will have taken its hold on Winfield. Will he have nightmares? Will he cry alot? Will he still want to get out of the ARMY?
I spend every day living as though I am an only child. I talk to my parents every day; I go about my normal activities. It is only when he calls or I get a letter that I am truly reminded of the fact that one of the people I love most in this world is half way across the planet. Maybe it’s wrong that I don’t carry him in my mind wherever I go. Or maybe it’s justified. Either way, there is no right answer. And either way, I have to get through this whole ordeal somehow.
It sucks that he has missed my birthdays for years, or that he wasn’t able to even get a glimpse at the first show I did in NYC. It is heartbreaking that even when he has completed his time in Baghdad, he will move back to Germany and not to the states. Part of me will always be angry with him for this. Part of me despises the fact that he chose this path. But most of me worries that he won’t come back alive and that I will be stuck living the rest of my life with a memory of my brother at 24 years old. It’s not fair and I am just about so sick of this whole fucking thing that I could fly out to Iraq myself and drag him home by the scruff of his neck.
But until then, I will continue to pray and trust in God’s divine mercy. I will also continue to throw cigarette butts onto the ground and hope that every pigeon in the city will eat them up.
I mean…fuck. I gotta take out my aggression on SOMETHING.
I had pizza for lunch and now my belly bubbles with anger. Yeah, it’s MY fault that my belly is bubbling with anger. MY fault. Ok enough.
Last night I went home and surprised hamster Jim and hamster Kim with some fun new toys for their cage. Since they currently live in an aquarium, I was able to buy a new top with maze-like tubes sticking out of it. Now they can leave the cage and run around the tubes for awhile. It’s great and amusing and they seem to really love it. I also bought them some fun new treats and some new yarn-like bedding. Of course Kimberly has stolen all the new bedding and put it on her side of the cage. Poor Jim sits, frozen, in the corner of the cage, naked. That selfish Kimberly…she’s such a cunt.
I am busy making my Christmas Wish List for my mother. She has been on my ass about getting it to her as quickly as possible. She likes to shop for months before Christmas. I think it takes her mind off of the bad things going on in her life. This time around…my brother not being able to be with us during any of the holidays. When I asked my mom what we were going to do for Christmas this year in order to make it special…she said “Your father and I were thinking about taking you all out to dinner and then to a movie”. Thanks mom…the typical Jewish Christmas.
The ARMY offered my brother a two-week leave package since he is going to be in Baghdad for over a year. Instead of taking the leave time, my brother gave it up to one of the men in his unit. According to my bro, the guy he gave it to just had a baby and was unable to be there for the birth. When this story got back to me, I was so proud of my brother that I literally burst into tears. My mom cried too, but her response was “How could he DO that? Doesn’t he know how badly I miss him? Babies don’t have the recognition of whether they see their father or not?!!?” Ok, maybe she didn’t go that far, but she was puh-retty upset. We are all proud of Winfield, but it totally sucks being on the other end of all of this. We miss him so badly.
Sometimes I sit around and fantasize about the day he will come home. I think about what my face will look like when I see him walk off the plane, or if I will cry or not. Often I picture myself running up to him and tackling him to the ground, pinning his skinny, Iraqi weakened body to the floor. What will we have for dinner the first night he is home? Will he look as different as he must feel? War changes people and I wonder what kind of change will have taken its hold on Winfield. Will he have nightmares? Will he cry alot? Will he still want to get out of the ARMY?
I spend every day living as though I am an only child. I talk to my parents every day; I go about my normal activities. It is only when he calls or I get a letter that I am truly reminded of the fact that one of the people I love most in this world is half way across the planet. Maybe it’s wrong that I don’t carry him in my mind wherever I go. Or maybe it’s justified. Either way, there is no right answer. And either way, I have to get through this whole ordeal somehow.
It sucks that he has missed my birthdays for years, or that he wasn’t able to even get a glimpse at the first show I did in NYC. It is heartbreaking that even when he has completed his time in Baghdad, he will move back to Germany and not to the states. Part of me will always be angry with him for this. Part of me despises the fact that he chose this path. But most of me worries that he won’t come back alive and that I will be stuck living the rest of my life with a memory of my brother at 24 years old. It’s not fair and I am just about so sick of this whole fucking thing that I could fly out to Iraq myself and drag him home by the scruff of his neck.
But until then, I will continue to pray and trust in God’s divine mercy. I will also continue to throw cigarette butts onto the ground and hope that every pigeon in the city will eat them up.
I mean…fuck. I gotta take out my aggression on SOMETHING.
