.oO(Sometimes I blur the edges.) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 13 November 2009: Mountains out of mole-hills. I feel completely shallow and self-righteous every Veteran's Day, when I remember more of those who did not thank me than those who did. Seven years of service, and only one or two I'd like to hear something from. Only one this year, really - since the only other two whose sentiments truly matter to me did say a few kind words. It's interesting to me how personally I take things so little. I refuse to call myself a Veteran, although I did serve seven years, active duty, in the Army - and did go to the desert twice. I refuse to consider myself to be the same as those who served before me, who truly earned the title. I was not spit on upon returning home, I simply did a job - the same as anyone not affiliated with the military. I did a job and came home. But. The fact that he didn't say anything. That matters to me. Ridiculous. There is vodka tonight. I'm happy. -Lisa. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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