Proud to be an American?

I did a heck of a lot of driving today. This morning I got up at 6:30, drove to Brodheadsville, got a physical and three shots, drove home, drove my sister to pick up her boyfriend in Avoca, drove home, drove back to my apartment, went to the movies, and I am now, finally, home and in bed.

My sister's boyfriend came home from Afghanistan today. He was on a pretty long tour, 9 months or so. I hemmed and hawed today about having to drive my sister there to pick him up at the airport, but I'm really glad that I still followed through with it. I don't know why I didn't realize that these troops coming home would be a really huge deal. When we got to the airport, there was a designated area of the terminal for army family and friends to wait. We stood around for about a half hour before the plane landed and all of the soldiers got off. I am extremely anti-war and relatively anti-military, but when I saw my sister's boyfriend walking off the plane, and when he stopped immediately to give her a big hug, I lost it. So, I definitely cried for a little. And for a moment, I thought I might be proud to be an American or something like that.

The thing that really got to me was all the little kids who were waiting for their daddies to come home. I have never seen so many kids so happy in such a long time. No matter what my ideals may be, I really am glad that I got to be there today and be a part of that.

In other news, I'm really looking forward to writing about a bunch of things in here. Soon to come:
-"Keeping Christ in Christmas"
-My review of the movie version of Twilight
-The atrocious grammar of the Backstreet Boys in their lyrics, specifically "All I Have to Give."