My internet is acting all funky, so I haven't been online often.
So here's my Thanksgiving in Iraq story: I'm an insomniac, so time has a way of slipping by. If you ask me what time it is, it will probably be either day or night, and I hesitate during mornings and evenings until I can figure out whether it's one or the other. So when I found out it was Thanksgiving, we were getting ready to head out on our mission, and so I didn't get a chance to be excited. As it turned out, our mission took us out past time for chow, so we missed the celebration anyway. Instead, I had a nice Vanilla Chai Latte with espresso (because Green Beans didn't have Spiced Chai that day, and Espresso Chai Latte's are proof that deities have a varying fondness for people), and then I found out that the Taco Bell on Camp Liberty was open for bizz-nass. My Thanksgiving meal consisted of one taco, one soft taco, and one burrito. I realized afterwards that I miss Taco Bell for all its not-Mexican food qualities, and should have gone back and gorged myself on processed foodstuff goodness. I had a vague notion that we would eventually devour some Triptophan-tastic turkey at some point in the evening, however.
When we got back from the mission, I sat down and watched a few movies (namely: 18 Fingers of Death, Sweet Insanity, and The Prestige), and then I microwaved up some macaroni and cheese. Now I'm an okay cook, but I miss ovens. Microwave mac and cheese, even doctored up with some red onions and shredded cheddar from the D-Fac, was not my best work. After I finished washing my bowl and shutting down my tv and dvd-player, I decided that people stateside should be awake enough for me to chat with them. Thing was: no internet. So I tried calling and only got in touch with my fiancee, who is awesome enough for me to be happy. I called kinda late, though, and no one else answered. Who would have thought that eight hours' difference could be so difficult to gauge?
So happy late Thanksgiving to all of those who might read this. See you around.
So here's my Thanksgiving in Iraq story: I'm an insomniac, so time has a way of slipping by. If you ask me what time it is, it will probably be either day or night, and I hesitate during mornings and evenings until I can figure out whether it's one or the other. So when I found out it was Thanksgiving, we were getting ready to head out on our mission, and so I didn't get a chance to be excited. As it turned out, our mission took us out past time for chow, so we missed the celebration anyway. Instead, I had a nice Vanilla Chai Latte with espresso (because Green Beans didn't have Spiced Chai that day, and Espresso Chai Latte's are proof that deities have a varying fondness for people), and then I found out that the Taco Bell on Camp Liberty was open for bizz-nass. My Thanksgiving meal consisted of one taco, one soft taco, and one burrito. I realized afterwards that I miss Taco Bell for all its not-Mexican food qualities, and should have gone back and gorged myself on processed foodstuff goodness. I had a vague notion that we would eventually devour some Triptophan-tastic turkey at some point in the evening, however.
When we got back from the mission, I sat down and watched a few movies (namely: 18 Fingers of Death, Sweet Insanity, and The Prestige), and then I microwaved up some macaroni and cheese. Now I'm an okay cook, but I miss ovens. Microwave mac and cheese, even doctored up with some red onions and shredded cheddar from the D-Fac, was not my best work. After I finished washing my bowl and shutting down my tv and dvd-player, I decided that people stateside should be awake enough for me to chat with them. Thing was: no internet. So I tried calling and only got in touch with my fiancee, who is awesome enough for me to be happy. I called kinda late, though, and no one else answered. Who would have thought that eight hours' difference could be so difficult to gauge?
So happy late Thanksgiving to all of those who might read this. See you around.