Thursday, 7 July 2005

Am I crazy mix or just plain nuts

I don't get it. I just really, really, really don't get it. I want to get it, but.... It makes no sense.

Problem No.1: I have been re-located to my new base for two months. That's eight weeks. That's longer than Basic Training where you are supposed to go from a mere mortal to a super-de-duper Air Force non-mortal, who can do facing movements and push-ups. (Did I say push-ups? I meant downing a push-up -- you have NO IDEA how little time they give you to eat! Like two minutes for a yogurt! Talk about no pain, no gain! The ice cream headache was enough to make me want to VOMIT!) Anyhow, two mutha-fuckin months I have been here. And I had to go to "Combat Commando Base In-processing." I wish I made up that name. But I didn't. *sigh*
OK, OK. So here I am, sitting in the base theater, listening to one after another really-nice-really-fat-dependent-wife-who-wants-to-help-the-troops speak about education opportunities and coupons for AAFES.... When here comes the gym people. Gotta talk about fitness and health. Gotta remind us that eating is bad, BAD! And the gym is good, GOOD. We gotta be fit for the fight. Gotta be one team. Gotta be ready to deploy. Here come the PowerPoint slides with the animated GIFs. Little man pumping iron, talking about heart rate. Little mouse nibbling on an apple talking about nutritional goals. Yeah, yeah, same ol' shit, different base.

Here's my problem. Here's what I just don't get. They show us a statistic saying that 49% of ALL people in the Air Force are considered "over-weight" and 4% are considered "obese." So, doing the math (49, 50, 51, 52, 53) more than half of the Air Force is fat-a-reeno. That would be me and half of the other fucks sitting in the theater, right? Right?

Tell me WHY.


This thing started at 0730, so I was there at 0700. We didn't get out of there until after 1200. Ok, so I exaggerated. FIVE HOURS AND FIFTY-NINE minutes. First thing in the morning. No breakfast. Waiting for lunch. And waiting. and waiting. You see how faint I am? Do you SEE how my hands are shaking from all the coffee and NO FOOD?

And you think that my fat-maybe-obese ass is going to sit there and eat a DONUT?

I don't get it.

Oh, and I think that I am the only person in the entire world that doesn't like Lance Armstrong. Is he a mammoth cyclist? Yeah. Does he have an abnormally large heart to make him like, freaking, Super Grover and shit? Yes, I say, yes, he does. What I want to know is this: What happened to his wife and kids? I know he was married. I know that she was there for his *gasp* cancer. But then, all of a sudden, Mrs. Super Lance is gone gone gone and all that's left (no fuckin pun intended) is Commie Cheryl CROW? How wonderful for the happy couple. But where's the WIFE?

Maybe most people wouldn't notice, or care, but seeing that I was one of those women that stuck by my (ex) husband and put up with utter nonsense for years, and HE decided that HE was dissatisfied and HE thought that HE needed something else and HE was going to go ahead and pursue HIS avenues, and leave me with a 3 and 1 year old to fend for ourselves while HE FOUND HIMSELF? Uh, yeah. So what happened to the wife, Lance?

I'm not bitter, just so you all know. It couldn't have happened to a better dick.

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