Dear Mr. Obama,
As you probably know from reading my Facebook posts religiously, I have strong emotions when it comes to Libya. Even knowing that, in all likelihood, things are not going to work out at all as I'd like them to (a democratic, modernizing middle east), it's still beautiful when people rise up against oppression.
But now you've committed America to military action in support of this rebellion, and millions of taxpayer dollars are exploding on Libyan soil, and we've already potentially lost the Americans flying the fighter jet that crashed this morning, and that's obviously a whole different can of worms. So if it's all right, I just have a few questions for you about the whole thing.
Who are these rebels? What do they want? Is this primarily a tribal conflict, or a national rebellion? Is al Qaeda involved? What is the rebellion's vision for a new Libya? Are we going to help them rebuild? I've heard some rebels ask for international help and some say they don't want it--which is the official position? Is there an official position? What will they say the official position is once this ends? Why did we wait until most of the rebellion has been crushed to join in and help--if this is the right thing, why is it the right thing now and not two weeks ago? Qadaffi was our ally in the war on terror, or at least we pretended he was--how is this going to effect our other alliances around the globe? Are we planning to rethink our policy of pragmatically supporting various dictators in light of our Libyan reversal? Or is this a special case and if so, why? What is the justification for interfering in this conflict but not in others, specifically Bahrain? What does the US hope to get out of this long-term? How does this fit into our overall foreign policy? How are we defining victory in this conflict? Are we in it until Qadaffi is deposed? If not, what?
Mr. Obama, at this point I don't care if you tell me a story about Nigerian yellowcake and WMDs, as long as you can tell me the answer to all these questions isn't "I don't know".
Sincerely,
-Laura
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Dear Army
Dear Army,
Every day that we're apart, I realize even more how bad you were to me. It's one thing to say "This can't be normal", or "this is bullshit", but the simple fact is that after a couple years of the same abnormal bullshit, people adjust. It becomes normal. But it wasn't normal, Army. No matter how many times you tried to tell me it was.
Remember when you got me up in the middle of the damn night to go to a re-enlistment briefing where you told me that if I didn't re-enlist, I'd starve in this economy?
Remember when I tried to leave you for a Special Forces support position, and you kept stringing me along before pulling the rug out from under me because you weren't 'willing to let me go'?
Remember how you kept telling me, day after day, week after week, year after year, that the corporate world is just like the Army, the same problems, the same bullshit, and if I couldn't hack it in the Army where everyone's family, the real world would chew me up and spit me out and I'd be begging to get back into the Army but you'd never let me back in because the Army was cutting down on personnel and they wouldn't want me back?
Today, I officially announced to my new company that I am not going to go to college as a full-time student next year, or ever. I told them that I'll be staying on, to work for them, for the forseeable future, opening the way for promotion. In a way, I just re-enlisted for my job.
Wanna know how they got me to do that, Army? Well first off, they offered me money. And I do mean a lot of money. A salary increase, not a lump sum. I'll be making twice what I made in the Army in a couple short months. But that's not why I did it. Don't tell them, but I would have done it for the promotion alone.
Here's some of the stuff that made this an easy decision:
When they made this offer, they made it clear that the offer was because I'm damn good at my job, not because I'm such shit I could never make it anywhere else. They made this offer and said, if you turn it down, that is fine and we'll understand. They encouraged me to take my time and think about it. And I did. Remember that one time a few years ago when I talked to Fisher about re-enlisting and she said that if I didn't sign within the next two days, she wouldn't give me good options? Remember how well that worked out?
And also? They don't waste all their time trying to appear in charge. They don't waste all their time with pointless exercises. Every day for me goes as follows: "There is some work here. Do it as fast as possible in whatever manner you see fit." That is every day for everyone.
When I do a good job, they say "thank you". This is still incredibly disconcerting to me. When I do a good job, they give me credit, and not as a reward and a favor but as a matter of course. I think since I began this job I've gone home at the actual end of the day one time, and that was only because I could no longer ignore what turned out to be a horde of terrorist, antibiotic-resistant bacteria attacking my right kidney--seriously. Every other day, I've stayed late, because there's work to be done. Doesn't mean I always love doing the work, but I've not once hated it.
I can't remember the last time I woke up and thought, I absolutely cannot face the day. Oh wait, yes I can. It was my last day in the Army.
Look, I know that eventually I'll have to stop hating you. You've given me work ethic, and leadership skills, and a crazy appreciation of normal, sane life. But the fact is, you use fear to motivate, and in the end, that's only good for paralyzing people. Fear is stillness. Motion comes only from optimism. I gave you my heart, and you beat the love right out of me--day after day, year after year. You abuse people in the name of unit cohesion, but it's still abuse, and it's not normal. I don't care what you or your lifer lackeys say. It's messed up, how you treated me, and I reserve the right to be angry about it.
So fuck you, Army. Fuck you for hurting me and my friends. Most of the people who are worth a damn will leave you, just as I have, and it's all your fault. It's not me. It's you.
-Laura
Every day that we're apart, I realize even more how bad you were to me. It's one thing to say "This can't be normal", or "this is bullshit", but the simple fact is that after a couple years of the same abnormal bullshit, people adjust. It becomes normal. But it wasn't normal, Army. No matter how many times you tried to tell me it was.
Remember when you got me up in the middle of the damn night to go to a re-enlistment briefing where you told me that if I didn't re-enlist, I'd starve in this economy?
Remember when I tried to leave you for a Special Forces support position, and you kept stringing me along before pulling the rug out from under me because you weren't 'willing to let me go'?
Remember how you kept telling me, day after day, week after week, year after year, that the corporate world is just like the Army, the same problems, the same bullshit, and if I couldn't hack it in the Army where everyone's family, the real world would chew me up and spit me out and I'd be begging to get back into the Army but you'd never let me back in because the Army was cutting down on personnel and they wouldn't want me back?
Today, I officially announced to my new company that I am not going to go to college as a full-time student next year, or ever. I told them that I'll be staying on, to work for them, for the forseeable future, opening the way for promotion. In a way, I just re-enlisted for my job.
Wanna know how they got me to do that, Army? Well first off, they offered me money. And I do mean a lot of money. A salary increase, not a lump sum. I'll be making twice what I made in the Army in a couple short months. But that's not why I did it. Don't tell them, but I would have done it for the promotion alone.
Here's some of the stuff that made this an easy decision:
When they made this offer, they made it clear that the offer was because I'm damn good at my job, not because I'm such shit I could never make it anywhere else. They made this offer and said, if you turn it down, that is fine and we'll understand. They encouraged me to take my time and think about it. And I did. Remember that one time a few years ago when I talked to Fisher about re-enlisting and she said that if I didn't sign within the next two days, she wouldn't give me good options? Remember how well that worked out?
And also? They don't waste all their time trying to appear in charge. They don't waste all their time with pointless exercises. Every day for me goes as follows: "There is some work here. Do it as fast as possible in whatever manner you see fit." That is every day for everyone.
When I do a good job, they say "thank you". This is still incredibly disconcerting to me. When I do a good job, they give me credit, and not as a reward and a favor but as a matter of course. I think since I began this job I've gone home at the actual end of the day one time, and that was only because I could no longer ignore what turned out to be a horde of terrorist, antibiotic-resistant bacteria attacking my right kidney--seriously. Every other day, I've stayed late, because there's work to be done. Doesn't mean I always love doing the work, but I've not once hated it.
I can't remember the last time I woke up and thought, I absolutely cannot face the day. Oh wait, yes I can. It was my last day in the Army.
Look, I know that eventually I'll have to stop hating you. You've given me work ethic, and leadership skills, and a crazy appreciation of normal, sane life. But the fact is, you use fear to motivate, and in the end, that's only good for paralyzing people. Fear is stillness. Motion comes only from optimism. I gave you my heart, and you beat the love right out of me--day after day, year after year. You abuse people in the name of unit cohesion, but it's still abuse, and it's not normal. I don't care what you or your lifer lackeys say. It's messed up, how you treated me, and I reserve the right to be angry about it.
So fuck you, Army. Fuck you for hurting me and my friends. Most of the people who are worth a damn will leave you, just as I have, and it's all your fault. It's not me. It's you.
-Laura
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