A Little Bit Of Truth

So here it is here is an ugly truth that just may make most of you squirm and never return to read the words that grace this blog, I HATE PATRIOTIC HOLIDAYS! I don’t care which one it is I hate all of them, Veterans Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Flag Day, have I missed any? I know how can I be a good American when I hate all of these days? How can I be the good wife, daughter, aunt, granddaughter, and friend to all those that I love that are veterans? I don’t know maybe I can’t, that is why I carefully put my patriotic mask while choking back the vomit that burns my throat and put cute little things on my Facebook, cook my husband a good dinner, that is except here. Here is my truth box, my place to be me, love me or hate me this is where you will find out who I really am.
Why do I hate this all of these “good American” holidays? Here I go being truthful; I don’t think America is that great. It is better than some but not as good as others. When I find myself looking around I honestly get pissed. For those of you, who don’t know my nephew Seth, died in Iraq almost 3 years ago and no offense to anyone and I know he probably wouldn’t agree with me but this country wasn’t worth his life. It isn’t worth the pain, tears, and rage that we were left with. Are we getting better sure but I don’t think I will ever think that the cost of mine or anyone else’s freedom was worth that price. It was too high. So there it is, my nasty little secret.
This blog is me sharing my search for all things that glitter hard to do when you feel like the oxygen is being sucked out of the atmosphere. This leaves me in quite the dilemma how am I going to find that damn glitter. This is how: I ask my brother if I can borrow his car. I take my hair out of its bun, I roll down the windows, put the sunroof down, find the craziest music I can turn the radio up so high I risk permanent hearing lose and ask Seth if he wants to go for a ride. Then I pull out oh so carefully look around and gun it. Cruising up the coast at 70mph, wind whipping through my hair, doing my best impression of Speed Racer
My mask will still be there tonight but it won’t feel like it is on fire, for the memory of the wind rushing through my hair at 70mph, crazy music, an unseen guest, and for once telling someone, anyone who should stop by that I HATE THESE PATRIOTIC HOLIDAYS means that I was me the good the bad and the ugly. If this makes me a bad American then so be it Seth still died for me and I am still lovable. Now, how the hell do I get the knots out of my hair?