Different now

I just found out that a guy I went to high school with -- a guy I actually went to daycare with when we were little, so I've known him literally since we were in diapers -- was injured in Iraq. His platoon was hit yesterday by a roadside bomb. He's the only survivor. He was burned over 52 percent of his body. I called my dad immediately when I found out. I'm from a small town, and my dad still lives there. Naturally, he already knew about it. He knew last night. I didn't even realize Cody was in the Army, much less over in Iraq.

They were going to do surgery on him in Germany, but Cody's dad was called a couple hours after he was told about the incident. Cody was heavily medicated, so the Army was bringing him to San Antonio, and he'd have surgery there, I guess. I'm glad he's back over here. I think that will help his recovery, since his family will probably be able to be there.

I know Cody's parents. I know his sister. They're all really nice people. It's so sad that this happened. But the thing is, it could happen to a lot more people I know. It really changes your perspective.

My job is okay. It's not anything that I'm going to be doing in five years, I don't think, but it's good for now. It's awesome for just out of college, and it will look great on my resume. But I want to do something that deals with people, and I'd love it if I could do something that helped people.

Before I got my recent great news at work, I had met with ER's parents, who are like my second parents, to talk about different things I could do if I left my job. They know a lot of people around Dallas and were willing to help me. With my TV reporting background and experience in college, in addition to my desires of what I want to do in a job, they suggested I be a spokesperson for something. They said maybe NASCAR, since I enjoy that because of my brother. They suggested the American Heart Association. They suggested the Susan G. Komen foundation, which is close to my heart because my grandmother is a breast cancer survivor. Then, they suggested the Army. K has said something similar to that before, too, but I think he may have been joking (slightly).

Now, I'm pretty sure it's next to impossible to just walk up to some bigwig at a company and say, "Hi, I'd like to be your spokesperson." I'm not famous. I'm not a supermodel. I'm not Jessica Simpson (If I were, she'd still be with Nick!).

But after hearing about someone like Cody, and especially after meeting K and all his friends, it would be absolutely awesome to do something that helps out people in the Army. Something more than greeting them at the airport and sending care packages.

Before I met K, I had a completely different view of the Army and those who are in it. Before I met K, the only people I knew in the military were my mom's two brothers. One of her brothers is in the 82nd Airborne; the other is a Navy recruiter. These guys are both hardened and stubborn. They're pretty "different" characters. So is everyone else on my mom's side of the family, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt and blamed their oddness on the military.

I knew I'd never date anyone in the military. They have that weird haircut, and most of the people I knew who joined even the reserves somehow didn't seem to fit the cookie-cutter shape that everyone else in our town managed to fit into. I had this whole false perspective of the entire military.

And then came K. He's a sensitive, normal, down-to-earth, American Eagle-wearing guy. He cares about his family, loves his mom and just wanted to do something that makes a difference. I thought he was just different, that I had lucked out and found the one normal guy in the whole U.S. military. But his friends are all great, too.

I wasn't exposed to a lot of the military growing up, and, to be honest, I didn't think much about it. I thought a little about it after the war. But it somehow still seemed just enough removed that I felt terrible for the families and the soldiers, but it still wasn't completely real.

Now, I hear "The Star Spangled Banner" differently than I ever have before. I see the flag differently. I even watch fireworks differently -- they're no longer pretty explosions in the sky; they're a celebration of the soldiers.

And when soldiers current and past are recognized at sporting events, concerts, events and piano bars, I see them differently, too.

I really wish there was something I could do to help them. What Cody did, what K is doing, what all the soldiers who've been there and are there are doing is amazing and tough and selfless and scary. I love supporting K, and I'll stand behind him no matter what. But I want to do more. I just don't know what "more" is ...