I'll write more later... I just wrote an incredibly detail, long entry and the internet connection went out and I lost everything. I am very frustrated, so I'm going to leave now.

Apparently we were lucky today. Just before I woke up, the building next to my work-place got hit with a rocket. It hit the building, then bounced off. Fortunately, it was a dud. EOD (Explosive Ordinance Diposal) came and disposed of it, but everyone was locked in the building until it was taken care of. It was about 50 yards from where I work. As you can imagine, when I got to work, the place was a-buzz about the rocket. If the wind had blown a little harder, it would have hit us.

....no need to worry though. :)

I'm just a little concerned about Ramadan. It's going to get worse. I have a feeling we'll be in "battle rattle" again for the most of the time I've got left here (I leave in January).

Well....I'm off to breakfast. At our chow hall, the food is pretty much the same every day. I eat the hard-boiled eggs because I've gotten sick the last few times I ate the omelettes -- you can't go wrong with hard-boiled eggs, I've decided. I was actually surprised at our selections -- fresh fruit every day, yogurt, all the bacon and sausages you could want (which looks disgusting so I don't eat it).... of course, some times we're out. Yesterday, it was salt. Today, it could be the yogurt. It's not that big of a deal -- there are soldiers out in the field that have to ear MREs. Oh, I found out that during April, when the supply routes got cut off, at Abu Ghraib they had to eat MREs for a few weeks -- the prisoners were ensured 2/day, but the soldiers only got 1/day. We had to make sure the prisoners were treated well, because that would be "unforgivable." It astonishes me sometimes how badly people want to make Americans over here look. I assure you, the soldiers (from the lowest ranking to the biggest General) want the people over here to be happy, have security and stability, and finally realize what democracy means. Unfortunately, there are too many "bad guys" who are taking advantage of the situation, and they find it easy to sway the POIs (Pissed Off Iraqis) in their favor. Most of the Iraqis just want a job, a home, food, and safety for their families. They don't want to be out on the roads setting up IEDs, but if their wives are shoving them out the door to "quit being a disgrace and get some money," they'll do it. What would you do, in their situation?

Ok, now I'm really off to breakfast. :-)

I got to work tonight to find out I would be the only one in my "cell" until morning. I was just delighted. Let me explain.... we usually put out a product of pretty good analysis every morning at 0400. It's so well-loved that when our Lt Colonels shut off our product in the interest of other things, the General himself walked down here, looked at us, and said, "The Daily is back up." I'm under the impression the General Officers need our Daily for one of two things: 1, they read it like a morning paper, with coffee in hand, first thing, or 2, they bring it to the bathroom. Either way, we were happy to be producing again. (The two days the Daily was turned off, we felt we had nothing to do, and were completely demoralized.) On Sundays, we do a "weekly" product that is essentially a wrap-up of our past week or some longer entries that weren't submitted earlier.

When I got in here tonight, ready to crank it out, I discovered NO ONE had given me their submissions for the day. That meant I had to do it all alone. (Note: A 1Lt doesn't have to do it all alone when there are Sergeants around who didn't do their job.) I managed to convince in the nicest way possible two Sergeants, and their submissions did help. I had other problems, like my own stupidity -- I shut the piece I was working on down, and erased it, having to start over. (Isn't it great that my greatest frustration in Baghdad tonight was dealing with Microsoft?)

Now it's 0315.... and I find myself done with my work. There's plenty to read, but I am not in the mood for it. I will have to find some way to occupy myself until 0800.

At my work place, there are two unclassified internet machines.... so there's usually a wait to check email, read up on sports (not me), or do research (there's a lot of info out there just in the newspapers). I, of course, back up the line by writing in my blog. :) It's totally worth it. I have to vent somehow.

Most of the senior officers here are either idiots or lazy (there are, admittedly, a few that are great), and I've discovered one of the main problems with this place is its top-heavy nature. There are too many Generals and Colonels about. I'm not even phased by Colonels or Lt Colonels (Navy Captains or Commanders) anymore. "Oh, you're a Major? Whatever, you're just a Major" ... and being a 1Lt is like being, I don't know... a fly on the wall. The benefit there is you can disappear when you want to.

Next year will be better, she said,
kicking the gravel across the road
Next year couldn't be any worse
that's for sure.
She fell over and died.
Next year couldn't come now,
and she was fine with it.
Those that found her body
couldn't see the scarring
or understand why her
soul ran out.


I don't know what to call this...it's not exactly a poem. Oh, and don't think I'm depressed. I was just very angry, happened to have a pen in my hand at the moment, and found an outlet for my anger and frustration -- which works much better than mouthing off in response to stupidity. I wouldn't have apologized or written an explanation, but so many family members are reading this now. I didn't want anyone to think I'd gone crazy. Besides, happy poems are so pase. ;)

Writing so soon again? Yes, I am.

Have any of you ever ridden a bicycle at 2am? Last night was my 1/2 night, and on the way to the MWR, I realized I couldn't remember ever riding at that time before. There aren't any street lights here, but the glow from downtown Baghdad is strong -- the nights are a bit hazy. At 2am, there aren't any humvees or SUVs driving by. Or anyone else, really. With my little headlamp strapped to my handlebars, I rode on, over speedbumps mysteriously sprouting from the pavement (you'd think I'd remember their placement) and holes in the dirt road that led to Bldg 51, MWR. I glanced up at the Pleides constellation, and walked into the building. Once inside, I used the webcam to talk to people back at home (and one in Germany). It's a little surreal, I think. I am always reminded of the movie "Enemy at the Gates," and I think, what would they have done if they had webcams? Useless thoughts, I know. Anyhow, my point is... well you get my point. After the MWR, I went home and watched more episodes of Alias, in the dark (my roommate was sleeping). Then I went to bed when the sun came up. I feel I've joined the race of vampires.

This is it for tonight. My boss is surely questioning why I am on the unclassified machine while there's work to be done. (He's actually very good to work for, and gives me my space -- more importantly, he gives me liberty when I'm writing my assessments. He says they're getting better, which is relieving. Can you imagine wanting to be a writer and then not being able to convey simple assessments well?)