So, I was speaking with my brother today who was griping about how he thinks our country just isn't pissed off enough.

I said, "What do you mean, I'm pissed off!" He said, "I don't think you are."

We had a little "Am too" "Am not" back and forth, which is normal for a 34-year-old and a 28-year-old.

Anyway, then he tells me that he thinks it's time for the President to send the two us over to Afghanistan to end this.

So I told him, it was interesting that he should *say* that because last night while I was watching "Band of Brothers" I had this total Shirley MacClaine moment, and sensed that I was a solider in a past life. Highly decorated. Very strategic. Big morale booster. Loved by my unit. I think I was possibly Sgt. Lipton!!!

So as I was telling him this and he was groaning, he decided that he *really* wants to listen in on my cellphone call to the President when I break it down for him that my brother and I, completely untrained civilians, want to be sent to fight a land war in a country whose language we don't speak, without back up.

But I am telling you, I sensed being on the frontlines in a past life. I sensed the foxholes and mortars raining down.

Or I might have watched "Apocolypse Now" one too many times.

So while my brother is screaming "Send the Partygirl Family Over!" I am describing how I think I may have shimmied through small Italian towns during WWI and taken them over.

Then my brother says, "somehow I can't see you digging a foxhole." "Yeah," I replied, "the foxhole thing is going to be a problem, but I think I can do it - I'm just going to bitch about it the whole time."

"Bitch about it? You can't talk! We're close to enemy lines!"

"Fuck you, I can talk! They were yelling back and forth in 'Band of Brothers!'"

"No, you can't talk! They'll hear us!"

"Hear us? They freakin' know we're here, it's a publicized mission! The U.S. and our allies are cheering for us!"

"Fine, then we go right in for the freak."

"Fine! Bring it on! We go right in for Bin Laden."

"What are you going to say to him?"

"I haven't decided. I'll figure it out on the way," I said. "Hey! What are *you* going to be doing?"

"Digging the foxholes and radioing the President."

*snort*

"So as usual, I'm doing all the work here."

"Hey, gotta run, client on the other line." Click.

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