So that's me. Except I don't have facial hair like that or stringy/wavy hair or... okay so that's not me BUT that's how I feel sometimes. It ain't easy being breezy.

I'm on a soapbox so if you don't want to see this train to the station - jump now and save us both some time, why dontcha?

It's close to the 4th and all this patriotism is pissing me off. And okay so that might be a little hypocritical pre 'Lone Survivor' but we aren't talking about that right now. What we are talking about is all these one or two day a year patriots that are cramping my style.

Example: A local radio station sent their resident stunt man out to our airport to Welcome Home The Troops. Once. One day he went and they plan on milking this shit all week long. My God, they didn't even know that the plane comes and goes EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THE WEEK. I believe they said, "...Once or twice a week..." a plane brings these soldiers home for R&R. That's right and then it turns around and sends another group back to war. Every day. What about those guys? Oh, well, somber departures don't make for great ratings, right?

Don't get me wrong - I appreciate that they sent someone to witness the emotional aspect of watching the spectacle of these troops returning home. In fact, I really felt like the guy was moved by the experience. He seemed to not be able to believe what he was witnessing and I hope he has a new appreciation for what these guys/gals are doing for us while we sip our Starbucks and bitch about rising gas prices.

What pissed me off was that they portrayed it as some new experience, some thing that just started at our airport when it has been going on for years. Like I'm one to talk but when you've had a life changing experience you sometimes forget you were once like them.

But I am no longer one of them. I am a girl that has spent hours writing and talking to the men and women that are sent to Iraq and Afghanistan for months and months because it is their job. I am the girl that applied for a volunteer position at the USO and begged and pleaded and clawed my way into my Sunday afternoon shift. I am the girl that hands a tired soldier a frozen chicken sandwich and has to hide her tears when the gratitude they show for that free sandwich chokes her. I am the girl behind the bar that listens to a young soldier who probably hasn't spoken to a girl in forever go on and on about his hometown and how many drinks he plans on throwing back before his leave is over. I am the girl that would sit for hours with any soldier in silence and just be content to hear them breathe. To live. To be.

I am that girl. While I work my 9 to 5 not an hour passes that I don't think of my soldiers. There is not a shopping trip made where I don't pick something up for my soldiers. There is not a night that passes that I don't pray for their safety and their well being. They deserve that and more. While I sip my Starbucks and bitch about high gas prices my conscious is pricking me screaming that maybe I don't have it so bad. I can brush my teeth, change into clean underwear and shower on a daily basis. I have my family near me everyday and I know that I am loved.

Okay, so my soapbox is tired from me standing on it all day long. And writing this has helped me realize I am mostly alone in this bitchery. And that's okay. It's not easy being a superhero. Ask Jack. He knows better than me. Golden Lasso's and Flowing Red Capes can only do so much.

Ah, a day in the life. There I go...saving the world. One soldier at a time...