[partial] BaddAss

I grabbed a (third) cup of coffe and was walking back to my desk, mentally composing my opening lines to this post.. Then i tripped over one of the eighty million stupid wires surrounding my desk -kind of like boobytraps for idiots, until i get caught in them then they are just boobytraps for the blind, not idiots- which is why i had to call this one [partial] BaddAss, instead of just BaddAss. Tsk tsk me.

so yeahhh… Afghanistan ay?

(paper journal – 6 July 09)

alright so i live in Texas now, right? I’ve been kicking and dragging my nails down cowboy-flavored-chalkboards to keep myself from turning Texan, but gawds honest troof’ is aahhh’m failin’. I bbq like a fiend now, and i have a bit of an accent on certain words, especially when i’ve been drinking.
 However, i’ve done a pretty much managed to avoid liking country music and/or learning how to dance. After 1 year, i’ve learned(ish) how to two-step and i learned two (always wasted) line dances.
 So now i find myself in BFN, Afghanistan, doing (what? you might ask) the freaking country dance thing. I’ve never done this sober before and it turns out i’m pretty

 That’s where the entry cut off that particular night. My wingman, who we call Yankee kept swirling me out onto the dance floor. Gotta say the boob-to-boob sensation while dancing is kind of unusual, but she’s a good dancer and it was fun. I’m going to laugh so hard if i leave this deployment as a better Texan than when i got here..hehe. Anyways, we were standing in the corner of this auditorium looking building (called a Clamshell, i think because the ends can be flipped up for extra airflow) when a group of loud and strangely dressed young men came in. One plopped down next to us, and started babbling, but not in English. Turns out he was French! we tried to dance together, but i don’t know enough about country dancing to save a bad dancer – his name was John i believe- and he kept telling Yankee to talk to me, cos he loved me and wanted me.. (i think it was the way my  boobs were bouncing in my shirt personally, but hey who am i to fuck with love-at-first-sight?) There was a hilarious guy named Alex who kept dancing around like a maniac, just booty shaking all over the place to freaking country music. It was amazing. We nicknamed him SexyPants, which is a fairly accurate description I assure you.

We all left the hoe-down and headed towards a place where I had seen offering hiphop – turned out to be local Turkish/Pakistan/Indian/Afghanistan hiphop, which dances a lot like the music at home, so I danced a skewed version of a Balinese fan/flight dance. (old men came up afterwards and told me i danced just like a local woman: i was waiting to be punched and told to get in the kitchen, but i guess i didn’t look tootoo much like a local lady)

After awhile all of us that were not on crack and didn’t have endless energy wandered outside to a little covered area and stood around smoking and bs-ing. The boys being boys couldn’t help but hit on us (i guess the 5 days of no-sex was already wearing on them) my favorite was when one asked Yankee if she would French kiss him, she said no. Then he asked if she would American kiss me, to which she also said no 🙂 SexyPants leaned in and told me he was celibate – i laughed and told him the word he was probably looking for was ‘single’ so i explained what the difference was between the two. He got a horrified look on his face and yelled ‘no no no single! i am single!’  A beautiful young boy named Tony asked me ‘eeef Ahhmericann or Frrrench lovverrz arrre bettterrrr” (imagine sexily rolled rrrs please) I smiled at him and told him i’d never experienced a French man, so i didn’t know. He smiled back and counted out the number of options I had to chose from 😛 I told him his eyes were beautiful, he told me i had a beautiful face. Now, i love compliments from sexy foreigners as much as the next girl, but i read once that “you have a beautiful face” is one commonly given to fat girls mostly because they have limited things to compliment. So thanks  for nothing lovely Tony..

We convinced them to walk us partially home – i reached out to hug Tony goodnight and he leaned in and kissed my cheeks. I completely forgot that kissing cheeks is a French thing, so i was blown away by the intimacy of it, and ohmygod his lips were soft. I was quitequite in love at that particular  moment in time. The boys got our number from Yankee and promised to call us the next day to hang out again before they left for patrol.

All day Yankee couldn’t stop talking about them, which was really adorable. I finally had to ask her if she’d never hung out with hot guys before – she corrected me saying that she’d never hung out with hot European guys before and she could be excited about it if she wanted to. After work we showered, shaved our legs and slipped into our sexy pt gear; i smelled as good as i possibly could, what with my old spice deodorant and shampoo.. but then we couldn’t find them anywhere. I figured that since it was about 2 hours earlier than the previous night they were probably at work still, but Yankee was devasted and convinced they stood us up. We wandered here, wandered there, while she checked her phone every few minutes to see if maybemaybe they had called this time.

Finally we meandered over to a coffee shop, the same one we were dancing at the night before. She walked in before me, and turned around giggling hysterically squealing about them being in there. We came up with a supernifty plan where we would go up, order a drink and then notice them. Cheezits. We did it. Turns out the young boys had gotten in trouble because they were sleeping when they weren’t supposed to so their boss said they could stay on their compound and continue sleeping that evening as well. Personally i was good because it was a grown up and more mature conversation about rank, politics, France etc. Yankee was sad and kept talking about how she missed the younger boys because she wanted to be jumping around and laughing and joking… to each their own I suppose.

On my first side note, I met Bob Woodruff this morning.

On my 2nd side note, Lucky Charms make a delicious snack.

On my 3rd side note, I desperately miss tequila and Charlie. 😦

On my 4th side note, I took 7 pictures the other day that have now been published on the main AF website: http://www.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123158810 if you want to check it out. They changed my captions around but it’s good. The shot of the boot on top of the ammo was originally named The Things She Carried — do you know where that came from? Let me know if you do

xxoo

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~ by manjamanis on July 16, 2009.

One Response to “[partial] BaddAss”

  1. Those French guys were the hottest things I have ever seen in my entire life… I think it’s just the accent lol I loved them…

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