(no subject)
Quite some time ago I received a call from the US Army on my cell, looking to follow up on a postcard of some fashion allegedly indicating my interest in serving, which I had allegedly mailed in. My response was not then, not now, not later.
Then I thought about it. Granted, I'm sure, government-at-large knows more about me than I will ever know about it, but my cell is not in my name, nor any derivative nor known alias therof. Not even close. Nor is it the number I use for any sort of business. So someone that I know pretty well must have filled out that card. Everyone knows I am a complete fan of the drive by night practical joke. But the ARMY? That was several pontoons too far. Marines maybe. Not. Army. So, I chose the most logical course available to me and declared war. On my friends. Honorably, of course; I published a white paper (read: text message) to the possible aggressors, only the purport of which I remember, namely, that it was a damned dirty play and I was not Swedish but would abide by Geneva nonetheless.
Three immediately sued for peace. At the time I believed that none of these were dishonorable enough to sail immediately back over the horizon but I have had my doubts in the months intervening. In the event, however, it is easy to lose clarity. That was a digression. I needed to mobilize, considering the other nations had immediately treatied and countertreatied and I had astonishingly few fresh ideas for waging a multifront war. Within a week the first missiles had been launched and hit their targets. It quickly became apparent that there was one major advantage that I had: my GNP allowed me to purchase bigger, faster ammunition.
Yes, the offers for life insurance, Florida vacations, and cheese of the month club annoyed me. Yes, my Wired magazine was three days late because my mailbox was overbrimming with Deliah's and Eddie Bauer catalogues. Still, it brings a smile to my face to recollect the reaction of Russia upon receiving Posh Tots; the horror of Brazil over a walking cane (she believed it was mafia related; I only wish I had thought of this association beforehand), the fact that Germany will be receiving Yachting magazine for the next two years.
And how excited Cyprus was to receive Billy Cyrus posters three days in a row! (I did actually complain to FedEx as it was delivered damaged & therefore rendered nearly safe; the ensuing credit allowed me the fusillade of ballet leotards sent to Kazakhstan, and Kazakhstan's mom was confused ).
Yet even the strongest nation grows war weary. The point at which I believed it was time to conduct negotiations occured in July, when a barter for souls in the form of new age postcards promising more! was located at my house by a neutral party (who I believe was shipping arms to Kazahkstan), was filled out and sent on behalf of a nonwarring nation, resulting in a package of junk and a bill for $50 being stuck thereon. I am a firm believer in absolute avoidance of civilian casualty, and de-escalated the conflict.
So why mention this now? Earlier I was leaving a restaurant w/Katan when she said sthing mundane which struck me as unbearably hysterical. She panicked to know why I was laughing: did you put something in my pocket? No? Am I going to get Bait and Tackle for the rest of my life? Why Laura Why?!
Come to understand, Katan didn't actually read all of my white paper. She thought, it appears, that I was merely in a fit of pique that lasted for an abnormally long time. She was logically less offended than I to find out s/one had tried to enlist me, but shocked nonetheless. I begin to believe she is not guilty, although the Disney pamphlets I am now receiving daily smack of Katan.
And for the pamphlets, I am re-escalating. Remember, dear Katan, you may have my picture up on your LJ, but I have your SSN.