Here goes nothin'

2005-02-17, 7:08 p.m.

Okay, I have to admit this is all a little strange to me, because the last time I kept a diary, I was 11 years old, and the kind of stuff it was filled with was like, "I met a really cute boy and I hope he thinks I'm cute too so we can do absolutely nothing about it because we're both 11-year old dorks!"

I never, ever, EVER remembered to write in it for any number of consecutive days.

We'll see how well I do here.

Let's see ... the beginning of my new life as a slave to this inanimate diary should probably begin with some kind of background, so when I come back to it in five years for my second entry, I can remember what the fuck I was talking about, and can update it accordingly.

At this point in my life, I'm 22, brand-newly married (six months on the 28th, baby!) and also brand-newly deployed to the middle of the damn desert for God knows how long, since I was a fool and decided to join the Army for college money two and a half years ago.

My job here? Write pro-Army propaganda (along with the occasional witty commentary, help edit the HIGHLY biased division newspaper, try to keep my ass out of trouble and attempt to mask my contempt for the assholes in charge.

Sounds like fun, huh? And all I can do is kick myself and say, "Well, shit, it sounded like a good idea at the time."

However, if I hadn't joined the freakin' Army I wouldn't have met my husband, who is the love of my life, even though he's bad at spelling and smells a little funny.

So, I guess you win some, you lose some.

My main purpose for starting this thing (diary) is that I am hoping to write an international best-seller some day, and hell, no time like the present to get the ol' creative juices flowing.

Let me close this thing out for now with one of my favorite things in the world: a truly cheesy joke.

"So, a pirate walks into a bar, and there's a steering wheel attached to the zipper of his pants.
The bartender looks at the guy and says, 'Hey, pirate, did you know you have a steering wheel on your zipper?'
The pirate looks down, grunts, and says, 'Arr, it's drivin' me nuts!'"

Lights dim, curtain falls, a standing ovation follows.

Stay tuned for the encore ...