Am I Dreaming?

This post was a whole lot more heartfelt when my trip was running on schedule. Now? Stuck in Kuwait an extra day, because the plane broke? Mmm. Notsomuch. GET ME HOME!
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No, wait…. Really? I’m really leaving? And, like…. Not coming back? WHAT? NO, I’m NOT ready to go yet! I haven’t said good bye! To, um….whatshisface?! Who fixes our computers? Nick! Yeah, I haven’t said bye to Nick! And… my chair, I love my chair!! It knows *just* how low I like to sit. And Al Faw palace, it’s soooo beautiful. And I haven’t said good bye to that little date tree I walk by every morning. I love that tree. Sure, we just met, but every time I pass it, I pretend I’m Ginger on Gilligan’s Island. I look up at the tree, and alluringly offering the Professor some lemonade, but MaryAnne is snooping behind me in the brush, and, and, and, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh crap. Okay, okay already. I’m ready to go. Sheesh. AT LEAST can you let me sit up front?

The ride to BIAP was one of humor and complaining. Pretty much any time we have here has to have a little bit of each. Like salt and pepper. And every once in a while, Emeril sneaks in and does his “BAM“! And we’re all like “Wha?”

OKAY, ENOUGH WITH THE OBXOXIOUSNESS OF A THOUSAND MOSQUITOS!

I’m here, in the terminal, with NO SIGNAL, of course, because I can make good financial choices and I can make bad financial choices. Today, I chose the good, do not buy the $40 connection. Because when I get home? I’m going to be bad! I need new shoes. I need new NICE SHOES. Not nice looking shoes from DSW, Marshalls or Ross… I need nice., shoes. The ones that are smoking hot and feel fabulous on your leg. And just when you had gotten rid of that Charlie horse in your calf, you realize “SHIT, I didn’t feed the cat! This was the cat money! CRAP.” And then that Charlie comes back a'creepin. (Do NOT mention that to my dead ‘Nam vet grandfather, paternal. Charlie… creeping? And he has nice, sweet yellow children? I can’t tangent anymore, so if you don’t know that we can’t be friends so kthanksbye)

So what the HELL was this whole post about? Oh yes. How I didn’t think I’d mind at ALL leaving Iraq, since, you know it wasn’t like I loved everything about it.

Oh. That’s where we went wrong, my friends. Very wrong.

As I realized that OMG THIS IS MY LAST THURSDAY NIGHT AT DINNER WITH YOU, LET’S STRAWBERRY SMOOTHIE, ooooooh it‘s our laaaast oneeeeeee! And got the OMG, THIS IS THE LAST TIME WE WILL EVER HAVE TO SIT IN A CAR THAT SAYS ITS 148 DEGREES ON THE TEMPERATURE! And, OMG, SO FOR REAL THIS IS MY LAST SMOOTHIE! No, this one! Swear! *Sluuuurrrrrp*

I got. mushy. Blame me. Really. I have some mother gene in me that makes me want to HELP, SOLVE, VALIDATE MY OWN INADEQUACIES, ahem…yeah yeah, help and solve, I love that. No sooner than I was in the car to BIAP was I wailing, “I didn’t do enouugggggghhhhhh! I didn’t learn enough Arabic! I never bought a hookah or a mandresssssssss! Waaaaaaa! She said, “You did learn Arabic! A lot of it!

“Um… sniffle… all I ever said was, “You smell like chicken/sock/Hussain (side: REALLY STINKY MAN. Way worse than a chicken or a sock.). And I knew all the “honey” and “sweetie” words…but only so I could get good bargains! I didn’t RIGHT THE WORLD. I didn’t FREE IRAQI. WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO BERT?! WHEN WILL HE EVER GET HE AND HIS FAMILY HERE!

And then, I looked at the watch and realized, whooa, it’s 25 Aug 2009. Six years people. Ain’t nothing changing any time soon. I think we’ll be regressing, actually. There is nothing I could have done in a mere nine months to CHANGE THE WORLD, MAKE IT A BETTER PLACE.... for you and for me, and the entire Iraqi race...

But as I stood there, saying goodbye to Dubbs, Mel, Juris Doctoris, Smitty, and Bert, I saw that look. I felt that feeling. The feeling of, “Oh God, she has to hurry up and go! Because that means I’m just a LITTLE more closer to getting out of here! Plus it’s effing hot, what is she, a cactus?!”

So as we said our goodbyes, I cried, they cried (some. OR THEY BETTER NOT LET ME FIND OUT THEY FAKED IT!) I cried the hardest saying goodbye to my Bert. Bert, who has been there with me the whooooole deployment. Bert, who’s inappropriate comments, and frustrating disambiguating conversations drove me INSANE… but thank god for them. Thank God, Alla, for bringing us together. For making life long friends. Thank you for giving me the little brother I always wanted….um…. Even though he is 10 years older than me. It works. My older, little brother. Stay safe, man. I worry and pray for you, the Mrs, and the two little ones. And YOU hurry up and get here so we can have a beer together! And really? We HAD to stop crying at BIAP. Two people asked me, “Oh, I’m so sorry…are you going on Emergency Family leave?” My answer?

“No, I’m just really sad to leave my Iraqi.” I’m sure I’m on a No-Fly list now, thanks.

What’s weird… I’m still getting these feelings that wash over me, like “Oh, wow. This part is over. I’m not coming back here. Wow. What happened to my last 9 months? Should I have came here? What have I missed? Oh, I‘m really not coming back this time. Wow, 9 months. DO YOU KNOW WHAT CAN HAPPEN IN NINE MONTHS? Waste! Oh WOE IS MEEEEEEEEEEE.,” Xanax helps A LOT. And then a nice little sneak peek into my savings account puts the cherry on the cake. J