Today we have another Blogger Interview. We have Heidi of Euphoric Reality to face the crew today.
The interviews have gone well, and we're looking forward to learing
some more interesting and insightful tidbits from your favorite
bloggers. Unfortunately, you got people like me asking questions. Oh,
Anyway, I'm ready ...
The questioners are ready ...
And Heidi is ready ...
Let's start if off ...
What was it like the first time you jumped out of an airplane?
I was the stick leader - the first one out. I had to "stand in the door" of the C-130 cargo plane, place my right boot over the edge of the open door and my hands on the outside of the plane and just waiiittt for the order to jump. That was a surreal feeling, in a "I can't believe I'm hangin' out of an airplane!" sorta way. It was deafeningly noisy, the wind was howling through the open door, my boot was hangin' off the edge, and I had a long time to think about what I was about to do. Then, on count, I jumped! My body snapped tight into position and the 'chute billowed out over my head. And then I realized, there was no sound - it was dead silence. I couldn't hear the plane overhead, nor the blackhats below with their megaphones. It was just me and the air. I didn't even feel like I was moving - I felt still. At that moment, I was filled with an exhilaration that truly rivaled the big "O", if ya know what I mean.
There wasn't a lot of time to think, so my body just naturally moved through the motions they'd programmed into me over the previous two weeks. It all worked like clockwork.
I saw the ground rushing toward me, and pressed my ankles together until they ached. I heard the blackhats screaming through their microphones at various 'ate-up' jumpers, but my focus was on the tree line on the horizon. I landed solidly, fell easily into my PLF (parachute landing fall) and sprung back to my feet hollering at the top of my lungs. I could feel the adrenaline literally punching through my veins.
I was addicted!
Why are you Redhead Infidel? Where'd that name come from?
Well, by my enemy's definition, as an American non-Muslim, I'm an evil infidel that must be exterminated. But I'm not just ANY run 'o the mill evil infidel - I'm a redheaded one. Which makes me fierce, unpredictable, and dangerous to my enemies. 'Nuff said.
Why would you want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane?
Why not? After the orgasmic experience I just related above, wouldn't YOU??
What was your worst day blogging?
I've never had one. I mean, there are days that may be frustrating or pissy, but nothing comes to mind as being The Worst.
How'd you link up with Kit?
She was a brand new blogger posting ferociously on the LT Ilario Pantano case. I was too. I ended up blasting away in comments on her site and she ended up inviting me to guest blog. Between us, we tracked down Pantano's accuser, submitted evidence to Pantano's attorney, and forged an instantaneous partnership. However, being a little territorial of my own blog, and not wanting to lose my own vibe, I cross-posted to Euphoric Reality for a few months. But it soon became apparent that Kit was the nicer version of me. Despite the inevitable sparks of two very strong, forceful redheads in close proximity, together we were a lot more than either of us on our own. I then closed up my own blog, which was about a month newer than hers, and we joined forces.
We have since partnered on the Brother Against Brother series about the LRPs in Vietnam, and if that wasn't a trial by fire, I don't know what is. We don't always agree, and each of us is strong enough to level the other and bounce back with no harm done. I, personally, don't know any other female who could - or would want to.
From the beginning, Kit and I just clicked in a permanent way. Have you ever had that happen? We had an eerily similar upbringing, dreams, desires, and goals. Eerie, I tell you, to the point of weirdness. Suffice it to say that I honestly feel toward Kit like she is my family, a younger sister of mine.
Meanwhile, on a blogging level, we've got a good vibe going on the site: good cop, bad cop. Guess who's the bad one?
What was your best day blogging?
I've had many - it's when my writing is flowing out of a deep-seated, unshakeable conviction I hold. The words pour out effortlessly, and after I post it, I sit back and think: "I just put that out there in the world. Those are MY thoughts, MY feelings, MY beliefs. Who or what will it change? How many people will read it and be affected?" Those are really good days.
If you could write one paragraph that every youth in America was to read, what would that paragraph be?
Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself. Never, never, never, never, never, never give up. And never give in, except to convictions of honor and good sense.
How come you never talk about your family? There's only a few mentions here and there.
I've been cyber-stalked around the web, and some of the creeps even followed me over to Euphoric Reality after I joined up with Kit. Plus, we've been publicly accused of crimes and all sorts of deviltry, and there are a couple of insane souls out there who have threatened to sue us. I'm ever mindful that my family deserves to live in peace, not the chaos surrounding my choice to write as provocatively and controversially as I do. I have young children, and if anything ever spilled offline into their innocent lives, I would shoot first and ask questions later.
How many of today's youth can read? And why is that?
Hmph. I don't know how many can read, but they rarely comprehend what they read. Never was this more obvious than in Kit's latest controversial expose on deviantART. We've had teeny-boppers blasting indiscriminately away in comments, and it's apparent that they don't have a clue about what she wrote.
I don't think the problem is reading, it's comprehension.
As to the mechanics of reading, I'm a huge proponent of pure phonics. Sight reading is only for those who deliberately want to handicap their children for the rest of their lives.
When did you know your husband was "the one?"
That, m'dear, it too sexually explicit for a family-friendly website.
Did you go to college?
Yep. Marquette University in Milwaukee, WI. I graduated with a BA in International Affairs, with a Minor in military science and a Specialty in Soviet Politics. BUT - the year I graduated, the Soviet Union dissolved and my Specialty instantly became more like Soviet history. I'd spent years mastering the Soviet political engine, and it just went *poof* !
Have you ever stabbed yourself with a knife in the ass?
Um, nope. But I know someone who HAS. Quite recently, in fact.
Is there anyone in particular you'd like to stab with a knife in the ass?
Yes. But if I tell you, then I'd lose the element of surprise.
What's the best and worst job you've ever held?
Worst job by far - de-tasseling corn in Wisconsin as a 13 & 14 year old for $3/hour. Yeah, it was one of those jobs that liberals love to say "Americans won't do". From 0500 until 1200, I (and my fellow American teenagers) would traipse up and down the sodden rows of corn, yanking the tassels off the tops. My hands would get slimy from bug guts. Nasty job, but I had a good work ethic. Imagine that! An American with a good work ethic!! And a teenager, no less.
Best job - I should say coolest job - was in the late1980s renting jet skis on the gorgeous emerald green lake I grew up on. I was in a bikini all day, surrounded by my guy friends, and on jet skis for most of the day. By far, the coolest job ever!
What was your best and worst day as a soldier?
Best day, hands down, is when the blackhats slammed my jumpwings on my chest. The worst day was the day I out-processed into civilian life. I've been a square peg in a round hole ever since.
If you could ask one question of any world leader alive today, what would you ask?
I have nothing to ask, but plenty to SAY, dammit.
Why do you swear – didn't your mother train you better than that?
Yes, she certainly did, and I'm an everlasting boor to not watch my mouth! In fact, my Dad sat me down very solemnly a month or so ago and reminded me that I have such a phenomenal vocabulary that I shouldn't have to resort to swear words to say what I mean. Didn't that make me feel 13 again?! I've since been trying to be very, very good. But sometimes, only certain words - especially when I'm ranting a blue streak - are suitable.
Say something to me in Latin.
That was certainly a blast! Thanks to all that submitted questions ... even those that didn't send them where they were supposed to! And thanks to Heidi for agreeing to take the questions.
Next week, we have Joe from aTypical Joe and Kit Jarrell from Euphoric Reality. That should be fun.