I can’t believe I mispelled all those words, but then again I can.
I shouldn’t be up this late.
I am up so late because (yea like I need an excuse) I have been talking to a friend from where I was reared. We are planning on having a “Reunion,” more like a survivor’s get together next month. A bunch of crazy women, who have not seen each other since we were 15 years old.
God I need help. Anybody know where I can find any BOTOX?
Just found out my best friend growing up has invited all the old crowd, a bunch of kids who grew up next to a BIG artillary base during the Vietnam war.
We got into WAY too much trouble in that environment, and this reunion is one for the ones who survived (you would be surpised how many didn’t, I barely did).
I have a friend in England who was married to an RAF Col. during WWII. She is a trip, comes to visit me once every 10 years or so and orders me around like she is a general or something. But I love her, can handle her.
Next month, we are going to Louisiana to visit relatives, and I plan to bring my hubby’s older sister home with me for a week, She was married to an Army Col., who died many years ago. She was a U.S. Army nurse during WWII, when “girls” didn’t join the military.
Their Dad, a WWI vet, told her she couldn’t go in the military, good girls didn’t do such a thing.
She told him she was, and that was that.
I can’t wait to spend some quality time with her (she is 84 years old now). For some reason, she really likes me, and I am going to take her for a day ride through the Smokies, spend some time with her nobody else cares or wants to. She is a walking history book, and maybe that’s why she likes me so much, because I LOVE hearing history firsthand.
” . . . and a redheaded Irish nurse he met.”
You know, that’s what really separates the men from the boys.
The ones who were, ummm, the real thing, didn’t brag about it. The ones who spent their time bragging, were not really what they claimed, and bragged to make up for it.