New Year's what?

Happy New Year!!!  Right.  OK, let's be honest every year hundreds of thousands of thousands of us make "New Year's Resolutions"--things we think we want to do or not do in the next year, changes that we think we want to make to our lives, or just little nothings that sound good to us.  I suppose there are always things we'd like to change.  Of course, I'm pretty thankful usually for the things I can't change too.  Everything happens for a reason, although frankly I'm not sure what those reasons are more often than not.  So, generally I'm not a big fan of the new year's resolutions.  I think if you really want to change anything you'll do it regardless of the time of year.  Of course, if you read last year's new year's blog, I might be sounding like a broken record, EXCEPT this year I've decided to make something.  I'm not calling them resolutions, more of promises to myself--since if I give my word, it's as good as gold.  So, I'm giving my word to myself that I'm going to do some things for myself.  

1.  I'm going to quit being a "pack rat".  Not completely, but the recent move has made me realize not just how much "stuff" I have but how much stuff I really don't need.

2.  That promise has nothing to do with shoes or purses.  A girl can never have too many cute shoes or purses.  

3.  I'm going to distance myself from difficult people.  I know so much easier said than done, but I'm not talking about eliminating them from my life.  I'm talking about just putting some distance, either real or metaphoric, between them and me.  I have a couple of difficult friends.  I love them all the same, but I just don't want to have their issues upsetting my apple cart.  If they need me, I'll still be around.  I just won't be hanging out with them regularly.  

4.  I'm going to the beach.  I've been putting off a trip for a few years now for the most ridiculous reason.  It's so ridiculous I'm not going to tell you why.  I'm just going to the beach.  Tropical, with rum runners, sun and fun.  

5.  I'm going to fall in love again.  It's really easy to love, but being in love is something that makes us feel alive.   The best part about being in love is that it connects us with our inner youth.  It reminds us that we are still kids at heart.  I think this is a good goal for anyone, whether married or with someone or single.  If you're married and you don't think that you're in love anymore--figure out how to get back to it.  If you're dating someone and it's not that fluttery butterfly feeling and it's not someone that you would forgive almost every transgression, then it's time to either cut that person loose or find it with that person.  If you're single, then it's time to have that feeling again.  I look back and I've only loved unconditionally once.  If I'm honest, my ex did the one thing I would never forgive.  Yet, I know that for one person I would've even forgiven that.  Yep, I'm going to fall in love again.  

6.  I'm going to make at least one new great friend this year.  Why not?  I've made at least one good friend almost every year of my life.  I've got some good friends that should be upgraded.  I'm thinking that only one is probably a low goal.  Maybe I'll make two or three great friends this year.  

7.  I'll not beat myself up over the things that other people do.  The new job is definitely driving that message home.  Sometimes the things that people do, they do it to themselves.  I've always tried to help people find the right path.  It's not really my responsibility and I get that.  I'm not going to stop helping people because some people can't see the forest through the tree they have their noses crammed into.  But I'm going to quit self depreciating because they don't want to do the right thing, they won't do the right thing or they simply choose to not do the right thing.  Each of us creates our own crosses to bear.  I don't have to help them bear crosses of their own makings.  

Alrighty then.  I was going to shoot for 10, but apparently I'm shooting for 7.  I'll let you know how it goes next December.  

A reason for the season...

A couple of years ago, at a Christmas party that was like a Secret Santa party--only you knew who had pulled your name, the gift I received was a large coffee/soup cup.  On the outside of the cup, it said "Cup of Courage".  I found it a tad ironic at the time.  I was under attack by part of the group that was part of that Christmas party.  I had bucked the system of theft and had confronted the guilty.  It had not gone well for me.  The majority of the group, while upset to find out it was going on, was unwilling to confront the situation--even with someone willing to step up.  I understood what the gift meant, but I think at this time of the year many people need to remember what Courage is.  Courage is not doing what everyone else does.  Courage is doing what is right, even when it will not likely end in the result that you desire.  I remember sermons growing up at Christmas time.  I don't pretend to be Christian anymore, although I still follow some of Christ's teachings.  I'll not debate whether the Bible contradicts itself--we all know it does.  All Christians therefore do have to "pick and choose" which parts of the Bible they choose to regard and which they choose to disregard.  All of that would be for another blog, if I ever were to choose to write about it.  But I do remember what I was taught, the parts that we focused on.  Acceptance, "judge not less ye be judged yourself", and courage to do the right thing.  Courage.  

My youngest son "came out" at the end of the summer.  He broke up with his girlfriend of two years, a wonderful young lady who he describes as his "first true love".  He even fears that she may be "the one" and what kind of cruel joke that might be.  His father is still having issues with it, and although I am supportive, I'll be honest that I am a little disappointed.  Not because he is gay, but because when I met his girlfriend two years ago, I truly thought my son had been lucky enough to meet his "soulmate" at 14 years old.  How many of us can say that?  When he told me, shortly before he told his girlfriend, I was devastated.  For all the reasons a mother might be--it's not an easy decision, some people are ugly about it, and of course, his "soulmate" was not going to be his girlfriend.  He loved her more than anyone he's ever been with, but he simply wasn't physically attracted to her.  Ironic, since she is the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen.  I mean magazine model material physically and just the most wonderful, intelligent, sweet personality--beautiful, inside and out.  He just didn't think it would be fair to her.  She deserved someone that loves her for not just who she is, not just romantically--as he explained, but who loves her for all she is.  I couldn't argue that logic.  My baby, in spite of what he thought might be a cruel joke, thought she deserved the whole package and of course had decided that he could never give her that.  Neither he or she should have to "settle".  The courage to admit that to me, to his father who is very anti-gay and kind of an *sshole (ok, granted my opinion although shared by some), and face the fact that it's not always accepted, let alone how many in his father's family view it...well, I am proud of him, of the courage it took to admit where he is at, and possibly at the cost of his best friend and his first true love.  Since I'm no longer Christian as I do not practice it and I believe in reincarnation, I often think things like this are simply learning experiences.  Perhaps, she is truly his soulmate and whatever cruel joke is a lesson to be learned.  Or perhaps this a previous mistake in some other life just rectifying itself.  

Most know from my blog that we recently moved "home" and my son told me that at his new school there is a young man that is openly "flaming" as he put it.  A young man, who apparently says racially inappropriate things, also says inappropriate things about this young "flaming" man.  My son pointed out to the kid that it takes courage to decide to be openly gay and just be himself.  The inappropriate kid didn't get it.  He thought it was "intellectual".  Intellect has nothing to do with who we are emotionally.  If it did, then the smartest people we know would be the most extroverted.  The most intellectually capable are usually quite the reverse.  Even those intellectuals that are "extroverted" are usually extremely guarded.  I compartmentalize.  I blend with any group, and I'm often painfully aware that some of the groups that I blend with would not want to blend, let alone spend time with, other groups that I hang out with.  It's sometimes like high school.  In high school, I hung out with "jocks", "burn-outs/potheads", "band geeks", "outcasts", "punkers", et cetera.  I didn't care about race, whether someone was "smart" or not, or whatever.  What I cared about what was inside, what the heart was like.  I often gave people the benefit of the doubt to do the right thing.  I have no qualms with saying that many people often didn't do the right thing.  Back when I was younger, there was no way this "flaming" young man could even try to show the courage that he has.  My son has shown his support, not because he's openly gay--he tells who he chooses to, but because of the courage that it takes to be who we are.  This young man has accepted that he is a flamboyant person and gay and it's important this time of year that we start to appreciate that amount of courage.  It's the time to open our hearts and minds to people that are different and reduce the amount of courage required to be ourselves.     

Everyone knows there's been a lash out of both support and criticism for a 67 years old man, a "redneck" from the Louisiana backwoods who expressed his opinion about homosexuality.  I hate to say this because of the potential backlash.  (OK, I'm full of sh*t.  Backlash all you want.)  But, the truth is that he has the right to his opinion.  In this day and age, saying anything that isn't "politically correct" can result in such a fascist response, even from the people that purport themselves to be the "open minded".  It's an opinion of a 67 year old man who was raised what Christians have been raised to believe for centuries.  For Christ's sake.  He's entitled to his opinion, and frankly in this day and age it's just as courageous to be able to say your opinion at all.  Ironically, at 67 years old, we almost all have more courage to just say what we think and what we mean.  As we get older, we realize that it's even less important to tread lightly around people.  I've often heard friends say that their grandparents or parents just speak their minds.  Yes. I don't find that surprising at all.  My Grams told me that she often wished that she had just spoke her mind when she was younger.  People would be more evolved if they would simply stand up and say what they mean.  Verbal exchange is what changes the world.  Keeping it to yourself, especially when you disagree, simply allows the behavior to continue.  When I faced the backlash of confronting people that were stealing, no one else said a word.  Maybe one or two to others that they knew supported my calling it out, but to the hoard, no.  They wanted it to stop, verbalized support to me, but often refused to "get into it" with people that they knew disagreed.  The courage eluded them to even say what they believed.  The opposite of courage is cowardice.  Courage is doing the right thing, saying what you mean and standing by it.  While I might disagree with the 67 years old man, I applaud his courage to speak his opinion in spite of backlash.  For those that would judge that courage, I ask you to think about who is talking here.  "Consider the source," my Grams would say.  The source is a man who in spite of what he believes also said he believes ONLY God can judge.  He's not some backwoods redneck from the Bayou just running his trap.  He's an old man, who actually probably is more broader minded than those that are running around condemning him.  He spoke his mind, opening up dialogue, and he probably was raised to condemn homosexuality but has accepted that only God can judge.  Those that condemn his courage are the ones to worry about.  Hypocrisy and cowardice are what come out of the woodwork when courage rears its head.  

Someone asked me since I moved home, why I left.  Most of my friends know there were multiple reasons.  The truth is for all my strength we all face those things that test our resolve.  Our ability to stand our ground.  I waited for two years after I graduated Clemson.  Then realized that I was waiting for nothing, and figured that I needed to move on.  It wasn't courage to run away.  It was a logical thing to do.  It had nothing to do with courage.  Like I stated indirectly earlier, intellect and courage are not one in the same.  I had logicked that the only way to deal with a situation was to walk away, and I let a coward chase me from the one place that I had ever considered home.  This coward had abused the hell out of me, and when it looked like my life had any chance of happiness that same coward chose to intimidate the one person that had what he had not.  My heart.  We can debate whether the heart was misplaced, but I make no qualms with friends about the fact that I gave it away and never got it back.  I thought it would catch up with me, but then I realized that my own cowardice--running away from the problem--had made it so that I couldn't have it back.  Whether the man who was intimated by the coward that beat the crap out of me should've had it in the first place is all up for debate.  He is probably the only one that knows the answer to that.  Most of my friends have a lot of sympathy for the guy that was dating me, because it became a very complicated situation.  I was simply going to have this coward follow me around, even after he married someone else, making me miserable if he could have his way.  I know in retrospect that if his new wife knew he'd have been in a world of sh*t.  Coming home, I was confronted with the loss again.  Honestly, the first time I had to deal with him--it's a small town after all--was not easy.  I wanted to bash his head in.  His wife is a friend and she really loves him.  I still really wanted to bash his head in.  He's not worth it; he never was.  That's why he never got my heart.  And, ironically, that's also why he made the other guy so miserable.  At the time, he couldn't accept that my heart followed this other guy around like a puppy dog.  Jealousy and cowardice are often hand and foot, and instead of having the courage to stand up for myself I ran away.  

Courage is often something that we recognize in battle, but we don't think of in the day to day.  I often think when someone talks of courage of the story in the Bible of Jesus stepping in the way of a crowd stoning a woman for being a whore.  How many of us would step in the way?  An NBC show "What would you do?" had an example of a grocery store customer berating a mentally handicapped person in front of other customers.  So few of the people said anything.  I see those bracelets on people--WWJD--and look at them as they knock into someone and don't mutter even an "excuse me", let alone an apology, and wonder do they even know that story from the Bible.  My Grams said that she only rented her and my grandfather's rentals to "good Christian black families".  Yes, well maybe she said negro, but it was in her experience they took better care of the property.  Was it true?  I don't know.  I would expect outrage if it came out of my mouth, but I was born in 1968 not 1908.  If she was alive, I wouldn't expect her wording to change much.  It was appropriate for her day and age.  In fact, it was courage in her day and age to say that she would only rent to black families.  I heard people criticize her when I was little.  For a 67 years old man, it was probably courage to say he thinks only God can judge people that are homosexual considering his generation.  It is still courageous to come out and openly be gay in high school.  It is still courageous to stand up and do the right thing in spite of the hoards being in opposition.  It is still courageous to finally stand up and say "enough".  In fact, sometimes, it's harder to say "enough" after a long time has passed.  After over a decade, it wasn't easier to say that the Nazis had been wrong and committed unthinkable atrocities.  Sometimes, courage is just as simple as being able to say to yourself that you ran away and it's time to go home.  None of us know our own courage until we step up and face whatever it is that has put us in our place.  Inside that cup that I received a couple years ago:  "Strength comes from within."  Sometimes it lies in wait within until we can stand it no more.  Say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, but remember to appreciate those things that you are willing to stand up for and maybe show the courage to stand up for those things that you know you should've in the first place.

We Live in Our Own Heads

I'm not one to say that I am "happy" or "unhappy".  Suffice to say, I think most people either accept that they are a glass half full type or a glass half empty type.  I suppose that's not much to most people.  "Happy" people tend to be those that are glass half full types.  "Unhappy" people in contradiction tend to be glass half empty types.  I know that's an awfully simplified point of view, but it's true.  More importantly, we will never be able to make a "happy" person from an "unhappy" person, because truly the only people that can fix that are the unhappy people themselves.  Then it comes down to choosing to have those people in our lives or not.  I know this sounds pretty deep for a Saturday morning.  But that really is what it comes down to.  I have friends that are dealing with "bad" times, and no one understands how difficult the holidays can be for some people than me.  So when a friend was going on about how "bad" things were, bitching about her sister and her brother, how much she didn't get along with her brother, lamenting that she isn't more like her mother because her mother is to her a very fun person, and making negative comments about where she lives, her decision to refinance, et cetera, I just listened.  I tried in my usual fashion to make light--a couple of ugly sweaters went by, pointing out people that were just having fun, and when someone she knew walked in, I thought that might lighten her load on her mind a little.  If that's what happened, then this wouldn't be a blog, now would it?

After going to the bathroom, she was demanding why I wouldn't have another beer.  I was the designated driver and while I had one and planned on maybe two or three through the night, I knew very well this weekend isn't the best time to be out drinking.  Next weekend will be worse.  Besides, she had been going on and on about how her job would be in jeopardy if she drank and drove--in spite of her driving drunk the night before across the county because a friend told her she "had to" stay on the couch.  I wasn't sure why if that was supposedly her plan in the first place that she would deviate from that plan just because someone "insisted", but I figured this is more about the fact that the holidays aren't really easy for anyone.  Then out of the blue, she tells me that I'm not a happy person and that I'm acting miserable.  OK, just because I wasn't drinking, I was a miserable person.  I wasn't drinking because I had designated myself as the driver for the night, because of her job and her going on and on about how she could lose her job, and because she lived on the complete opposite side of town.  Oh, and I damn well didn't feel like it.  Simple.  Sometimes, I just don't feel like drinking but a beer or two.  I've never really had friends make a big deal out of it.  Hell, I'm pretty sure most don't even notice it.  I asked her if she had a cigarette when she went to the bathroom--thinking maybe she was edgy because she couldn't smoke where we were at.  She went to smoke and I just recentered.  Figured we'd start a different conversation.  When she got back that lasted all of two minutes.  She started in on whether I danced, "cut loose' and ever enjoyed myself.  Wow.  Then insisted that I should probably have a beer if I couldn't have fun any other way.  Again, wow.  Now, anyone that knows me fairly well, knows I don't take verbal abuse anymore.  Period.  I asked her to clarify her thoughts.  She told me that she had gone through all my Facebook pictures recently and I always look so happy.  Well, yea, I thought, I make the best of any situation.  So she didn't understand why I wasn't having fun with her.  Why I wasn't going to drink and "cut loose".  Wow.  I explained that I used to go out dancing all night and most of the time only had a couple of drinks because when I was going to school I really couldn't afford to go out "drinking".  I'd be out on the dance floor from 8 pm to 5 am and drink water most of the night.  Well, that wasn't really possible to her.

OK, I asked her if she realized that she was projecting.  What was projecting?  Projecting I explained was when someone thinks something about themselves and forces that view of themselves onto someone else.  She didn't follow.  I told her I don't need to drink to have fun with my friends--it's fun, don't get me wrong.  But, I knew she would have issues with work and I volunteered to be DD and was fine with it.  I had to drive her across town when we were done and then drive back in the opposite direction home.  I just would prefer not to on the Friday before Christmas.  Plus, I had been out with friends the night before and I knew I have a Christmas party tonight.  I just didn't feel like overloading myself over the holidays, so I was fine having fun with her and letting her "cut loose".  She insisted that I look so happy all the time and why not right now...*sigh*.  At that moment, a really good friend of mine walked over and gave me a big hug.  I talked with him and she stormed off.  Sent me a text that she had a ride home and left.  I ended up having a good time with other friends because I wasn't going to go home when I wasn't tired, but I still only had a couple beers that my friend insisted on buying me over the next couple of hours.  I didn't want more and none of my friends that I ended up with for the rest of the evening "insisted" that I drink.

What I've noticed over the last five years is that there are a lot of "miserable" people that don't really realize that they are so unhappy, and that most of them project those emotions onto other people.  Most people, like this friend of mine, simply do not want to admit they aren't happy with things.  I knew I was unhappy in Kansas, but I also had a reason to my madness.  I wanted my kids to stay in the same school through high school.  I had failed my oldest.  I have since failed my youngest.  My middle son will be the only one that graduates from the same high school as he started.  I knew I wasn't happy, but I knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel too.  I had already told my boys I would move back to the South, preferably South Carolina's Upstate, after they graduated.  I had a plan, and I made the most of what I did have.  I cut the people that projected their misery out of my life pretty much entirely.  I kept the good friends and distanced myself from the ones that acted like this friend did.  It was hard enough being in a place that I didn't want to be surrounded by people that were happy--let alone with people that were miserable schmucks.

I know this friend is a "survivor".  A strong person who has survived some hardships that might have crushed others.  She's not the only one.  I know lots of "survivors".  I myself am one.  But none of us are the "only one".  Hardships that don't break us don't always leave us in the best place.  Yet, there seems to be a big difference between her and I.  My hardships are gone.  Life lessons that I just have to chalk up as fate, God, signs, something, leaving me with a brighter light, tested metal now finely polished into a fine saber.  Others, like her, the life lessons have taken a toll, drowned them each time a little more, the tested metal just as sharpened but hardened and the malleability gone--more likely to snap at any added pressure.  I've been there--we all have been.  The difference is that some of us choose to be beacons and others choose to create crutches, project our own issues on others, and live embittered.  I don't have the answer why one way or the other.  I have made choices myself sometimes that have made me unhappy for some greater good.  I'm not the one to judge.  But if that greater good is for an eternity, then something is wrong.  There should always be a light at the end of the tunnel.  My light was coming back to where I knew I belonged, regardless of the reasoning I had to be elsewhere.  Maybe my friend simply hasn't found her light at the end of the tunnel.

For those of my friends and readers that have wondered if they are happy or just pretending to be, think about how you view yourself when you look in the mirror.  We all are the most conscious of our own flaws.  Then look at how you view others.  This friend said I look happy in every picture.  They didn't nickname me "Happychick" because I'm not a happy chick.  How come I'm not happy with her?  That is projecting at its best.  It's not that I'm not happy with her; it's that she's not happy and therefore it doesn't make sense why not her.  I get it.  It's hard to see the forest when you're standing with your nose right on a tree trunk.  But if you are wondering something like that, then there's a reason and the reason hasn't got anything to do with the person you're mad at, jealous of, or upset with.  The issue is yours and no matter how happy that other person is they're not going to be able to fix you.  She wants to be happy, so she wants to be as happy as she sees me being.  I can't make her happy.  Only she can figure that out.  We live in our own heads and no matter how much we think someone else can fix us the only person that can fix us is ourselves.

The Problem with Women Being in Combat...

A friend of mine was a MP in the US Army.  Was deployed to Iraq multiple times.  Came home with PTSD.  Did sweeps, went out on patrols.   Another friend was a corpsman in the Navy.  Same story.  They did what the majority of guys do over there.  Worry about insurgents, go out on patrols or with convoys, were fired upon by insurgents, carried overloaded packs that weighed up to 80 lbs., walked the streets and saw the poverty, the mistreatment of animals and women, and came home different people than when they went.  The difference between them and 70% of the US military members over there is that they represent 30% of the forces that are female.  That's right, female corpsmen (aka. medics) and military police (sometimes known as shore patrol for the sailors).  One of them recently shared a link for an article written, supposedly, by a female marine.  Now, I'll be frank, even when I was in we didn't have much respect for the WMs.  We called them WMs, for crying outloud.  I was a sailor.  Once a sailor, always a sailor.  Once a Marine, always a Marine.  Once a WM, always a whiny marine.  Oh, I mean Woman Marine.  The name alone cries dumb whiny bitch who doesn't belong in the military.  Now, let me make this clear.  I served with Marines that happened to be female who scared the begeebees out of me, and I by nature seem to intimidate a lot of people.  I knew a WM who served in Vietnam and when she was in her 40s kicked the crap out of 4 redneck girls that were twice her size, more than capable of jumping about any man let alone woman.  The Commandant of the Marine Corps would've been proud.  She was the epitome of Marine, not WM.  So I read this article, blog, commentary, and thought while the b*tch might have some valid points from HER point of view, she's one of "those" women.  I've already blogged about how women hold each other down, needle each other, whiny bullsh*t that I have little tolerance for.  If you can't help lift each other up, then sit down and shut up.  But military women, we're a different animal.  We don't like the games, but there are still a minority that do play them.  We get our asses handed to us because the reality is that although most men view you as equal, we are all too keen and overexposed to those men that whine that we can't perform and only acknowledge that we can if we do double what they can.  Eighty pound pack a problem?  Really?  We carry children from the backseat of a car to a bed, while juggling a purse that weighs an additional 5 to 20 pounds because of all the crap we have to carry for the husband, the children and of course ourselves.  An eighty pound kid is worse than a pack--lumpy awkward weight, aka. dead weight, in a sound sleep--that kicks you in just the right place as you struggle to unlock the door to the house.  But there are those men that wouldn't give us any credit unless it was 160 lbs. pack.  That's just the facts jack.  We'll never make some people happy, and we don't need some whiny b*tch marine who really didn't want to be there making statements to the contrary and feeding into their tiny views of the world and women.

First and foremost, this woman claimed, that she's proud of her service.  Yea, right.  She deployed.  There are a lot of the guys that have a hard time being proud of their service after a deployment.  So let's call a spade a spade.  She isn't really proud, and I will not refer to her as a Marine.  Sure she made it through boot camp and earned a globe and eagle.  That's technically a Marine, but since she thinks that women need to be more to be considered equal, then she should've done more to be considered equal.  By her own words, she's not truly a Marine.  She didn't outperform the male counterparts of her branch.  She didn't even try.  By her own words, a woman can't pull an 80 lbs pack all day.  Well, no honey, you can't, and because of her own limitations she would scar all women.  But "those" women really do tend to do this.  You're either like them, and they are of course the majority of women in their own little minds, or you're the odd duck butch dyke woman.  Neither of which are true.  Women that want to serve, truly choose to serve, are there because they want to be.  We've groomed women to not believe in ourselves over centuries and the first woman to show the world, yes the world, that we can achieve anything and more than a man, was Queen Elizabeth I.  She was a warrior, lead her troops, against a Spanish invasion.  A true leader who rode up to the front lines to the shores of England in spite of concern for her safety--she was her father's daughter after all.  Ironic, when we consider that Henry VIII was probably the most womanizing of all kings of Europe to date at the time.  She never married and considered herself married to England, her people.  She proved a woman could be a military leader, a fair and just leader, and brought England into the empire it would remain until the 1900s.  There were and still are naysayers to the abilities of women.  A shallow insignificant group that limit themselves and others.  If you're happy being a housewife, then this is great!  If you're not, then this is not so great.  There's nothing wrong with being a housewife, but it's a complete waste if a woman aspires to be more, has the intellect, talent, strength and desire to be achieve more.  What this woman is doing is simple.  She's projecting her own limitations onto others, and the last time I spoke with any Marine of the male persuasion this is simply not acceptable.  So why would this female think it would be of her?  The Marines embrace that team mentality more than any other branch of service, intricately linked by the bond of the Marine Corps, so I question whether this woman ever learned what it was to truly be a Marine.  The real problem she illustrates is THE major problem with women in combat.  The women that join even though they truly don't want to be there.  If you don't want to be in the military, then don't join.  But unlike the men that join that didn't want to be there, she has being a woman to blame instead of herself.  Take some responsibility.  The men have to.  If they hated it, they hated it--not every guy they served with.  She uses other women as the scapegoat for her own limitations, and unlike the men if they tried that sorry ass excuse, she can get people to side with her limited ideas because women are still not truly 100% equal with everyone.

The woman is obviously not very well informed either.  Women have been proven over and over to be better shooters, and particularly snipers, not by the USA by any means.  But by Russia, the Israelis, and other various factions.  The truth is that the original assassins, the Chinese version that the Japanese used to develop Ninjas, were women.  Chinese society allows for women to be referred to in the male nominative if they earn it.  Several hundred years ago, women earned that by being gifted assassins.  I'm always loathe of anyone that toots off certain "facts" but doesn't bother to do any research at all.  Moving on.

Body strength and weight really do not play a factor in today's warfare.  A M16 is not that complicated, heavy or difficult to shoot...ok, depending on how much of an idiot you are.  We all have seen in recent years that pretty much any idiot can figure out how to use a gun.  Carrying an 80 lbs. pack? Covered that.  You can get used to carrying any weight.  African women carry that much weight or more on their heads, balancing it in two baskets.  Also, in hand to hand combat, we know that various forms of martial arts are the most effective.  We don't train most of the men this either.  We also know that in a wrestling match the person with the lower center of gravity can generally gain the upper hand if properly trained in comparison to their opponent.  Interestingly, women have a lower center of gravity, we are better balanced, by nature.  We've been told for generations upon generations that we are weaker, but the reality is that we have more muscle strength in our abdomens allowing for more strength in our upper legs, better balancing, and all things in training equal, we can get the upper hand on even a man that is larger than us.  Plus, if you don't believe all that because it's simply above and beyond your own personal beliefs, there's the argument that trumps all.  Men have nuts.  Yes, no matter what, men have their Achille's heel right between their legs completely unprotected.  In hand to hand close contact, grab, twist, pull.  I don't care how much training that guy has; depending upon the force used, he'll be incapacitated or be in flight mode.  Again, this woman simply hasn't done her homework.  She's making excuses why she couldn't.  Whine, whine, whine.

OK, so most of this I have placed on her.  It's just a fact.  I joined the Navy.  I was originally planning on joining the Army as a Warrant Officer flying helicopters.  The next opportunity for shipping for training was several months away.  It was really only 9 months, but at 21, nine months sounded like FOREVER, whereas now, nine months seems like a blink of an eye.  I told the Army Officer recruiter that I would have to think on it and get back to him.  On my way out, a United States Marine in full dress blues, caught me and asked if I was planning on joining the military.  I was thinking about it.  Now let me give you a full visual, I was dressed to the nines because I worked at an upscale clothing store, sorority pin, high heels, perfect hair and makeup.  This Marine proceeds to put me in front of VCR, pushes play, asks me to push rewind when it finishes and come see him.  The video was of WM boot camp.  Seemed pretty normal at first, marching, cadence, then a little rough housing, some yelling, then mud---lots of crawling through mud, more rough housing, then finally closing up with a woman, at least I'm pretty sure the Marine Corps thought she was a woman, showing a bunch of female recruits how to put on their makeup "the Marine Corps" way.  Yes, the "Marine Corps" way.  I pushed the rewind button and got up to walk back into the main room.  The Marine recruiter jumped up, big grin ear to ear, "So what did you think?"

What did I think?  What did I think?!?!  "I think you have lost your mind Marine!  Do I look like someone who wants to crawl through mud and needs to be taught how to put on my makeup?"  A burst of laughter ensued from another Marine and two sailors, all in their dress blues uniforms.  Nope.  I knew I didn't want to be a Marine.  Did this woman join when she was 17 and had little to know idea what or who she was?  Who watches one of those videos and doesn't know that is or isn't for me?  There are three (4 if you count the Coast Guard) other branches to choose from.  I obviously based on that video decided that the Army was probably not for me either.  I can complain that the Navy video failed to show the fire fighting required in boot camp, but hey, I never had to fight an actual fire, by the grace of God, while I was in the Navy.  No harm, no foul.  I can imagine that if I hadn't seen that video and I had gotten into the Marine Corps and crawled through mud and had some dude looking woman teaching me how to put on my makeup....well, I might have been a little anti-being in the military.  Not for other women though--just for me.  I was in the Navy though, and I look back at it with very fond memories.  Every branch of service is different, although we all serve the same purpose.  Maybe this woman just didn't belong in the Marine Corps.  Maybe she just didn't belong in the military.  Regardless, maybe she should shut the hell up about what she didn't like because it was her issue with it, not all women's issue with it.

In a lot of her whine, she goes on and on about how the lack of unit cohesion and how women's problems, emotional, PMS, our periods cause all these issues.  Funny how it didn't cause most of us those issues.  She cites stuff she knows nothing about.  She wasn't a corpsmen or medic, so she's shooting in the dark about her own perceived excuses of why women shouldn't be in the field.  There's issues with men in the field also, and let's be realistic for those people who would agree with this whiner.  Women go hunting and camping all the time.  I'll admit it's not for me, but I know plenty of women that like that kind of stuff.  They go "roughing it" all the time and they love it.  I'm a pansy, or at least they tease me that I am.  I'm good with that.  I didn't join the Marine Corps because I'm a pansy too.  This woman didn't want to "rough it", makes up excuses why women shouldn't "rough it", and then toots them off as applicable to all women that want to serve.  It's bullsh*t.  As far as unit cohesion, she used the US Navy as an example.  Saying her unit had a woman get pregnant, blah, blah, blah, but then saying that the US Navy ships were a great example and how we had all those issues when women were added to the combat ships and units.  Now here's where I really take issue with this dumb b*tch.  The US Navy proved that this was a leadership or lack thereof of leadership that was the issue, not the women.  If the Old Man, the Skipper, the CO, the Commanding Officer put up with it, then the command was doomed.  It was rampant and caused all kinds of issues.  The Navy used to have a saying, probably still does, "What goes on deployment, stays on deployment."  Originally meant as the secrets, the missions, stayed quiet, but extended to those indiscretions that some sailors had.  The saying "a different girl in every port" came from sailors after all.  As women were integrated, well, the skippers, the Commanding Officers, that didn't make it very clear what was and wasn't acceptable had Love Boats.  In addition Commanding Officers that didn't make sure that they held their senior enlisted accountable had even more problems.  Anyone that has been military knows, the senior enlisted hold the keys to how the rest of the troops will behave.  If they look the other way, even if the Old Man says "no", then the junior enlisted can get out of hand pretty quick.  She cites our ships, our units and toots it all off as fact--never being a sailor herself, never being there because it was way before her time, and passing off scuttlebutt (rumors, gossip, bullsh*t) as fact.  Pure and simple.  I was there at the time this all happened.  I am a sailor.  I'll tell you straight up, the buck stops at the Old Man and his senior staff.  Period.  He tolerated it, his ship, his squadron, run amok.  He had a zero tolerance, his ship, his squadron, had unit cohesion and worked as well as any single sex unit.  Period.  Do I feel bad for her?  A little.  The Marine Corps only recently started calling female Marines, Marines.  The title until the last decade, 10 or more years later than the other branches, still gave their females a separate, degrading, throwback to wars gone by, name--WM.  Perhaps, the Marine Corps is having a hard time with the old sea dog Marines who long for the day that women just didn't serve in the Corps.  The Navy had those--20 years ago.  The submariners freaked out a little too when it was first announced.  But let's be honest, the submariners have done extremely well.  Probably because you have to be way smarter than the average bear and in comparison some Marines are still neanderthals.  It doesn't change the fact that the Navy has proven that women can be a very successful part of the team.  They can pull chocks around an aircraft carrier, launch after launch, that weigh more than a pack.  They can fight fires and save their fellow crewmen.  This woman simply doesn't know what she's talking about and I wouldn't want her in the Navy, let alone the Marine Corps.  She's a WM--whiner marine, and the military simply doesn't have enough space for them anymore.

We have an Army medic that was awarded the Silver Star.  A female Army medic.  Put herself in the line of fire.  Ran to a truck in her convoy from the one she was in after the truck was blown up.  Threw her own body over 3 wounded during transport to shield them from bullets.  An act of valor that she referred to as "just doing what she was trained to do".  When 60 Minutes did an expose on her, two of the 3 men came on.  One refused.  He wrote a scathing letter saying that women didn't belong in combat.  It was very, very likely that she saved his life.  Perhaps he was embittered from his injuries.  It's not uncommon for men to be upset when someone saved them and their lives are not going to be what they had pictured.  "Lt. Dan" from the movie, Forrest Gump, is a great example.  I've met both men and women that have served that wish they had died over there,  not because they were even wounded, but because they lost comrades, friends and those wounds are just as great and frustrating.  This woman would have you believe that the Army medic shouldn't have been there.  I'm sure, regardless of the letter, that there are members of 3 families that would disagree.  It's a fact that sometimes, regardless of training, male or female, we freeze up in combat--especially at the first exposure.  Another Army medic, male or female, may have froze, may have not run into the line of fire, and it's a fact that we don't talk about.  Valor knows no sex.  This woman has no idea what valor is or she believes that it is one of those things that is only for men.  It is not.  Valor is often shown by women in droves over men.  The Nazis commented that when shooting women and children, the women would often jump in front of the children in spite.  It was demoralizing to the Nazi men and the SS had to stop the practice.  The Army medic I speak of here, she may have been just doing what she was trained to do and a man could've just as well done it as she did, but in truth, we never know the valor inside of us until tested.  This woman has not had hers tested, and I daresay that I would not want to be beside her, or even in the same unit, if her metal was going to come under fire.  Not because she's a woman, but because she simply doesn't have the ability to believe in herself, let alone others.

The arguments against women in combat aren't unit cohesion, sex, the lack of physical ability or size (ask the last guy who jumped a guy friend of mine), the only argument against women in combat that is viable is the same argument against men in combat.  It's mentally harrowing.  It's a test of who you are, everything about you, everything that you're made of--good, bad, indifferent.  Everything.  Is there any reason to believe that a woman is less capable of passing that test?  I'd argue that the mass, very large majority, of the 30% of the military comprised by women, are there because they really want to be.  They want to take that test, for whatever reason.  Not the combat part of it, but the test of who they truly are.  They want to prove to themselves, prove that they can.  I'd argue that half of the men are there because they liked Call of Duty or some other war game.  The realities of war being so much more different than a flat screen television version.  The smell of gunfire, the screams, the sounds of various things around you, the cologne someone sprayed on that morning...No, I'd argue that the women joining the military in general--some whiners still join--are uniquely more qualified because they don't join just because, or because it's what the men in the family do, or for money for college, alone.  Those might be reasons also, but deep down somewhere they join to prove their worth to themselves.  This woman failed to prove her worth to herself and focused on every reason that she failed, that other women failed, and never once understood it's something that she, that they chose to do.  Failure was an option for her.  She never realized, in spite of what the military--particularly the Marine Corps try to instill, that failure is not an option.  She should take a long look in the mirror and realize that some of us not only learned that lesson, but took it to heart.  We tested our metal and we shine like bright freshly sharpened and polished sabers.  Unlike her, we are all but too well aware that the problem with women in combat are women like her.

You can read the dumb WM (whiny marine)'s post at:
 http://www.westernjournalism.com/the-problems-of-women-in-combat-from-a-female-combat-vet/

an epic failure in the making...

I often write about PTSD, because I, like so many others am one of its victims.  Many military now suffer from PTSD.  I do not want to downplay rape victims or witnesses to tragedy and their problems with PTSD.  They are just as likely to suffer from depression, anxiety, suicidal tendencies and other problems.  However, with recent announcements that those with PTSD and other disorders that might result in tragic gun shootings, I feel we need to speak to these issues and contemplate the slippery slide that Congresswoman Gifford is suggesting.  Americans for Responsible Solutions as of August 31, 2013 boasts fund raising efforts have brought in $6.5M for the gun control lobby.  They cite the power of the NRA and the massive funds they use to lobby Congress and other politicians as a need for this organization.  Perhaps.  I would argue that the far left has enough money coming in when they can push through Obamacare without a single right wing vote--but that's another blog.  Because of her husband's military status, they have some major military retirees on board.  It all sounds very legitimate.  So, let's think about it and what it could mean as far as what the Giffords want and the White House proposal for mental health registration.

From their website on background checks:  "Federal law requires that individuals seeking to buy a gun at a licensed dealer pass a background check to prevent criminals, domestic abusers, the seriously mentally ill, and other dangerous people from purchasing firearms. Since the NICS instant background check system was implemented in 1998, background checks have denied transfers to over 1.7 million prohibited purchasers."  This is true.  Criminals technically can buy weapons if they have had their rights restored by the court after completing their sentences and probation.  Domestic violence doesn't ever really prevent anyone from being able to buy a weapon or not.  Any idiot should realize that not all domestic violence gets reported.   The "seriously mentally ill"?  Well, the accepted point of view legally is someone under the care of a doctor, psychologist or counselor who deems them as a risk to do bodily harm to themselves or to others.  The "other dangerous people" is kind of open ended.  No one really defines that particular little group.  It's potentially a catch all.  They want to expand the law to all private sellers and gun shows.  So if you own a gun and you want to sell it, you would have to conduct background checks on anyone that you wanted to sell it to and maintain those records.  It's not cheap and it's not something the average person wants to have to do.  It's a "loophole" that the Giffords want closed.  Oddly enough though, only 0.7% of all guns used in crimes are bought at gun shows and 1% from private owners.  In fact, 79% of all guns used in crimes are received from family members or obtained from illegal sources.  I'd argue that it makes more sense to figure out how to close down the 40% that come from illegal sources and the 39% of family members providing the weapons.  Note also that of that 39% approximately 40% of that is also obtained "illegally".  So in reality, the percentage of weapons used in violent crimes obtained from illegal sources is over 56%.  Expanding the federal law to cover gun shows and private owner sales is silly--1.7% is nominal, a joke, a small band-aid on a gaping wound.  The illegal guns are the ones that we need to figure out how to catch--56%.

From their website on high capacity magazines:  "High capacity magazines are a deadly factor in gun violence. According to the Department of Justice, they are used in between 14 and 26 percent of gun crimes and between 31 and 41 percent of fatal police shootings. And the data has shown that limiting such magazines helps save lives. According to the Washington Post, during the previous ban on high capacity magazines (which has since expired), there was a 60 percent decline in share of recovered crime guns with high capacity magazines. After the ban expired in 2004, that share increased from the 2004 low – more than doubling by 2010."  It is true that high capacity magazines have higher risk factors.  They cite that the Glock used in the Gifford shooting had a magazine with 33 rounds.  The data they provide is one study conducted, and unfortunately or fortunately depending upon which side of the debate you sit on, there are equally compelling studies that state the opposite.  Would limiting the capacity of the rounds truly limit a shooter?  Someone that has trained at changing out the magazines on a range or in the field, truthfully, probably not.  Changing the magazine out from one to another isn't that complicated as most video games and zombie apocalypse movies show.  The size of the magazine probably isn't going to make a hill of beans difference in reality.  They say that it might, might, give a couple seconds for someone to shoot the assailant in a mass shooting.  The truth is that expert marksmen, our own police forces, cannot always hit their targets during a shootout.  The real life stresses make it difficult under fire to aim and shoot and hit the target.  We have a visual that it is simple to hit a moving target while bullets are coming at you from movies and television shows.  The truth is far more complicated.  (http://nation.time.com/2013/09/16/ready-fire-aim-the-science-behind-police-shooting-bystanders/)  So while people insist that it might give a couple extra seconds, that couple extra seconds is more like a second and the response in that second isn't going to be as massively helpful as one might think.  It will be highly dependent on if the officer is in the direct line or pseudo direct line of fire, their experience level, whether they have had previous shootout experience, and the magazine size for the criminal is not really going to come into play on how many rounds he gets off before the cop or other legally gun carrying citizen can maim or kill the assailant.

From their website on assault weapons:  "Machine guns have been strictly limited in America since 1934, but a federal ban on assault weapons expired in 2004."  They also include that an assault weapon was used in the Sandy Hook shooting.  One of the mass shootings in recent years actually used an assault weapon.  It seems a little odd that we would jump all over that with such zealousness versus the handguns since almost all of the mass shootings in recent years have involve some version of handgun.  And, yes, machine guns have been strictly limited in the USA.  What's the difference and why do they not distinguish such on their website?  A machine gun is larger, not typically small enough for the average person to tote around.  Assault rifles are rifles capable of having magazines.  The magazines for assault rifles are not usually to the capacity of a machine gun and machine guns are typically higher caliber (bullet size basically).  Well, this all is very interesting, except they left out some details.  The federal ban on assault weapons went into effect in 1994.  Before 1994, there were no limits.  The original (at least for our generations) mass shooting that no one understood because it simply hadn't happened in our lifetimes was the Columbine High School shooting.  That was 1999.  The law didn't prevent anything; in fact, the tighter you grip your fist, the more that seeps out between your fingers.  Someone said to me the other night, an older gentleman in his late 60s, that drinking alcohol was more fun when it was illegal.  There's a bit of truth to that for a lot of people, although I'll have to admit that I'm not one of them so I don't actually "understand" the statement.  But I do understand that if you tell me I'm going to lose a right or privilege that I have right now, that I am probably not going to have a lot of respect of the law that took it away and possibly snub my middle finger at it and the people that passed the law in the first place.  The truth is every single one of these mass shooters wanted to be famous.  That's it.  They leave manifestos stating it and we, our media, are more than happy to oblige.  Start completely ignoring who they are.  The problem isn't that they can get the guns.  The problem is that they can get the fame that they crave.

From their website on gun trafficking:  "One percent of licensed firearm dealers account for 57 percent of guns recovered in crimes. Law enforcement can put such offenders out of business, but the police and prosecutors need the tools to do so."  Basically, I had to read this twice.  It's a bit of double talk sounding at first just because of the way it's worded.  Re-wording what they state:  Almost 60% of guns used in crimes are provided by a single percent of legal gun dealers.  Thing is that licensed firearm dealers actually only account for 8% of the guns used in violent crimes. So this statistic is missing information.  I'm not sure what it is missing.  It sounds heinous, but with all the other facts, this statistic doesn't add up.  Is it 57% of the 8% which actually would be 5%?  Or is it that 39% that are sold to family members who are legal, but giving it to known criminals in their families?  Is it a gang violence statistic?  Is it a statistic that is based on the illegally obtained 40%?  I mean look at the number I calculated from the actual statistics:  56%.  I'm thinking what they mean here is that 56-57% that are technically obtained illegally but sold legally by less than legitimate gun dealers.  I think if that is the statistic that they are representing here then I'm all for it.  Figure out how to get those less than legitimate organizations shutdown.

The White House plan pretty much mimics everything above, but it also includes mental health provisions.  One is directed towards schools for administrators and teachers to be "trained" in recognizing mental health issues and advise parents to seek mental health help for their children.  As a mother who's child's teacher wanted him on Ritalin and who had to have the doctor he was going to state in a written letter to the school that my child was a normal healthy boy that simply was finishing his work faster than other children (correctly) and that Ritalin would likely result in grades dropped because it was meant for less than 2% of the children that could not pay attention and get good grades.    The teacher and the principal were supposedly "trained" in my son's case and that particular school was investigated and had almost 40% of their student body on Ritalin on the word of the teachers and principal telling the parents to do so.  So, I bet the so-called training will be at best laughable.  What gives me the most pause is the 750,000 children that they estimate will be registered with mental health issues through this directive on the say so of so-called "trained" school administrators and teachers.  We have reached an age where kids out passed curfew are arrested, finger printed and sometimes even fines levied against the parents.  We find out once they are adults that those finger printings are permanent.  Nothing is expunged anymore at 18.  Now, the White House would have our children registered and tracked for mental health issues?  That could be a lifelong scar, much like we register sex offenders.  They already are tracking Gulf War veterans via the VA if we register with the VA.  How quickly do you think they could add all of us to the register with the convicted criminals so that we are not able to legally own a firearm?  I mean, just in case, after all.  The do-good mentality is that an ounce of prevention is worth a whole lot of cleaning up afterwards, but we are a country built on innocent until proven guilty--not the other way around.  We have started taking people's rights and bypassing the 5th Amendment by claiming they aren't rights but "privileges".  So owning a gun if you have PTSD could be a "privilege" you'd no longer be afforded because less than 1/2 a percent of us might commit suicide and less than 1/10th of a percent might commit a heinous crime (with or without a gun)...It's a slippery slope that even the Giffords haven't officially attached their names to.  Do you know another country that began in the 1920s changing rights to privileges?  Nazi Germany.  Within 10 short years, there were concentration camps for those without privileges.

I'm in a unique position.  I lost a good friend, like a baby brother, to PTSD.  He committed suicide.  It was months after before I knew it.  He had called me within days before he committed suicide, and I hadn't called him back.  I had told him if he ever needed to talk I'd be there, but you can never always be there for everyone.  I've taken calls from brothers and sisters now at all hours of the night because they might be at risk.  But even knowing the brothers and sisters that have been at risk, the couple of them that have gone, I don't ever want to see those that are simply having a rough time that find the strength to pull themselves out to be on some list that takes a right away because we've defined it as a privilege and deemed that certain people are not entitled to that privilege.  The idea that the magazine size has anything to do with it, that it is a particular weapon's fault (especially when it's not that particular style weapon used in 99% of the "crimes" they supposedly want to stop), or that we should tighten the grip on at risk minors by the say so of amateurs or on veterans that have honorably served this country is nauseating.  I'm not happy that I lost a little brother.  I'm not happy if I lose anyone.  However, I'm not willing to lose our rights for it.  It's the coward's way out.  We'll take the guns.  It sounds good but doesn't address the real problem.  The real problem is there are very real mental health issues that need to be addressed.  The real problem is some people would rather have their 10 minutes of fame no matter what the consequences.  The real problem is that we as a society would rather band-aid an issue than ask the question why, find the real root cause, and remedy the real issues.  The quick fixes won't work but we are so lazy we grasped on to whatever sounds good and then make up the numbers to make it happen.  Congratulations to the Giffords.  I double checked their statistics and that's exactly what they did.  Jump on board the easy train folks.  It's not going to change anything.

From the ashes, a mud stature or a phoenix?

Come on, we all have failed at one time or another.  There might have been extenuating circumstances or issues that were out of our control that kept us from succeeding but regardless of the circumstances, we all fail sometimes.  It's just a fact.  There is simply no way getting around it.  Michael Jordon once said, "I have failed over and over and over again in my life, and that is why I succeed."  Failure is not the worst of our problems.  Failure is what brings out the best in us, if we choose for it to do so.  That is the key though--the choices we make can make our failures the focus of who we are or our failures can drive us to brilliance.  Many people though today seem to think that failure is something to defend--tooth and nail--it is not our fault.  Our own actions, even when they are provoked, if they lead to failure need to be analyzed and understood.  We simply can't pretend our failures are successes because eventually we come to expect our failures to be rallied and touted as much as our successes.

Our current President is a fine example.  On "Face the Nation" this past weekend, Diane Feinstein, one of the most far left liberals in Congress, said that the healthcare website needs to come down until it can be fixed and do what it is supposed to be able to do.  It's frankly an embarrassment to have the President of the United States to be so obstinate and honestly arrogant that he and his White House team don't understand this.  They can blame the Republicans all they want.  It's not changing that the website is a failure, and pushing it to be released incomplete was a poor, very poor decision.  There are glaring problems with the security of the site and yet they still think people will risk entering their social security numbers and other personal medical details for quotes.  It's absurd.  President Obama seems to be the epitome of one of our biggest societal problems today.  The inability to admit failure.  

We have become so accustomed to "bragging" about mediocrity that we as a society have moved where failures are twisted into successes.  A failure is still a failure though.  We've taught a couple of generations that everyone should be the same and that anyone that is "successful" is to be shunned.  Winning isn't everything, but just because a kid can't play baseball doesn't mean that he won't be a great engineer.  We have spent so much time praising mediocre performances that we have forgotten how important it is to have someone that is good at what they do doing it.  Being a successful businessman was actually a detriment to Mitt Romney when he ran for President.  Being an amateur, who was not fully engaged in two state senate terms, who skipped many votes, and had only served a third of a national Senate term was viewed as more "promising", a new direction, and full of hope.  We want the mediocre to be the American Dream, but that simply wasn't and never should be the American Dream on the national scale.  People have watched movies about the American Dream--Henry Ford, Abraham Lincoln, Howard Hughes, FDR, JFK, Michael Jackson, Ronald Reagan--the list goes on and on.  An hour and an half to three hour movies about the successes of so many can hardly do justice for the difficulties and failures that any of these successful people had to endure over the years.  It's given the image that the American Dream is a simple thing and that anyone can achieve it.  It's true anyone can achieve it, but it's with hard work, genuine drive and the skills developed over time and experience.

We put pictures up of people that do mass killings faster than we will soldiers that have been honored with the Medal of Honor or the Silver or Bronze Stars.  We don't want heroes anymore.  We want the guy who in a 10 minute shooting spree killed more people than the last guy.  He's a coward, a mediocre piece of shit that wanted his 15 minutes of fame and we turn it into hours and hours.  To what end?  Some of the most "successful" Wall Street crooks are just as wealthy as ever.  We're angry because they lack the ability to overcome their own greed, but we watch as the people that defame them most ultimately are the exact same.  In spite of Reagan and O'Neill passing law that would mean that politicians are no longer able to use election donations for "personal expenses", they, Congress, created a loophole and exploit these "slush funds" as they always have.  We have a President who offered up $25,000 of his presidential paycheck to show that he and his family were willing to sacrifice what the rest of federal employees were, but forgot to mention that he's made in the millions per year with his books.  A penny to him that only sounded large because less than 5% of the people in this country could afford to just give away $25K.   We "brag" about mediocre people with mediocre goals, morals or ethics and we have the audacity to wonder what's wrong with our society.    

  

The gifted and talented in our society are ignored.  When's the last time a MIT graduate or professor was asked about the economy?  Instead we have people like Madonna making commentary on the world affairs and economics?  Just because Madonna knows how to package sex doesn't mean she knows anything about anything else.  Frankly, she's not even that good of a musician, singer or actress.  Yet, some people insist on using hers, or Bono's or even Oprah's advice to make their own decisions (I use the term "their own" loosely at this point) on politics, the economy and their sexuality--which has to be the most personal thing of them all.  Don't get me wrong.  I think Oprah might have some valid and interesting points and information, but the artists in school, the bohemians, were not always the brightest when it came to mathematics, history, political science or anything that required any structural thinking.  So it's extremely confusing that anyone would think Hollywood actors, rock band musicians, and people who've made their money peddling sex should be the ones that anyone listens to for advice on politics, world affairs, or business ventures.  It sends a confusing if not poor message to our children and future generations.

Is there a way to invoke more pride, more dignity, more ethics into our society?  I'm not sure.  Every generation has their own issues to overcome.  We have fundamentalists that would swing back the pendulum too far.  They say that they want to get back to basics, but there are few of them, let alone the rest of us, that can agree truly on what the basics are.  The only thing we all truly get is failure.  Failure, whether we pretend it's not failure or not, is still failure.  If we continue to toot failures off as successes, allow people like the President to ramble on about his successful healthcare program when all of us already know its just not working per his previous promises, we are sending the message over and over that it's OK to pretend that our failures are successes.  Failures are not successes.  Failure should be the one thing that drives future attempts and future success, not the pretend "success".  We can't take the ashes, adding water and mold a "success".  When the rain comes it's still mud.  Success is the phoenix that rises from the ashes of failure, not a mud mixture made to resemble "success" from the ashes.  

Nothing but Cottontail...

There's nothing wrong with me.  At least not overall anyway.  I'm not likely to make a commitment though.  I recently thought that I wanted to, but I, well we were mistaken.  I don't really want to hash it all out.  I have certain expectations in a relationship and there was a deal breaker in the mix.  I'll take the blame.  I'm a commitment phob most of the time and I'll admit that I may have little patience if certain things don't fit.  I joke that I expect that trifecta--emotional, intellectual and physical.  But it's really not a joke and recently I've realized that those three ingredients are more difficult to find, let alone define.  I'm certainly not one to claim that I am perfect.  I'm so flawed sometimes I am amazed at how I have survived.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm not some wanting reject either.  I'm funny (albeit a little sarcastic), pretty smart (overall), can get by in any group or crowd, am open minded, a little bit wild and a little bit reserved.  I'm a pretty good mix overall.  Can't really complain.  But, I am most definitely not some sort of perfection.  My commitment phobia is part of that "flawed" portion I suppose, or it is from my point of view anyway.  Like I stated in the last blog, maybe it's time I figured out why that phobia is there.  We've established that it has nothing to do with fear of infidelity.  The phobia was there before my ex's infidelity, so while it didn't improve it, it certainly didn't create it.  Of course, when I look back, lots of people were offering to scoop me up like I was an ice cream selection at Baskin Robbins at one point.  I just wasn't into the idea.  Like I've stated before, three times I would've gone there, and I'm starting to think that maybe the fact that I ever wanted to go there--make a lifetime commitment to anyone--means that I am most certainly capable.  Maybe I'm not even truly a commitment phob.  Maybe I'm just not interested in getting myself into any situation that isn't well suited for me and I'm pretty sure that would be a good thing.

"Alex would be married if she wanted to be."  That's what an ex-boyfriend's brother told him that knew me pretty well.  I suppose that was a very true statement to some degree.  I definitely could've been married if I wanted to be married to one of the guys I had dated, and I'm sure that there were at least one or two that would've dated me if they had gotten the chance.  In their minds, they may have even thought if they ever dated me that I would be "the one" that they wanted to spend their lives with.  I've had quite a few guys that wanted to marry me in the past.  I was one of those women that it seemed like everyone I went out with wanted to get serious with me.  Some friends assumed it was because I was a bit of a tease.  Some thought it was because I was a lot like "one of the guys".  Others would ponder that it was because I was completely inaccessible--a commitment phob.  Another words, some guys were drawn in just because I was uninterested.  I'll be honest that last one crossed my mind and has often been the one that I genuinely have concerns about.   Afterall, who wants to be with someone that only wants you because they can't have you?  The guys that I showed any interest in at all often turned tail and ran...usually only to turn around as soon as I had moved on.  The others that showed interest that I didn't reciprocate seemed to make like desperate ditches to try to get my attention.  In truth, usually when guys turned tail and ran, I was bored quickly.  I have the attention span of a gnat sometimes, and game players usually didn't keep my interest very long.  The main problem wasn't just my attention span though.  I would find something "wrong" with them.  Players are the easiest to find something "wrong" with, and the minute I found anything wrong, and I do mean anything, bam!!!  Nothing but cottontail.  By the time the guys had realized I was gone, nothing they could do would change my mind.  So the statement, "Alex would be married if she wanted to be" only took into account what the guys were thinking....not what I was thinking.  No one sided description does a complicated animal like me justice.

Did, do I want to be married again?  Honestly, sure I do.  I like the idea of commitment and I like the idea of sharing my life with someone and vice versa.  I'm not the Ozzie and Harriet type by any means, but news flash:  neither are most of the men or women on this planet.  No life could be that perfect and that's the beauty of it when it comes down to it.  Frankly, that "perfection" could be exhausting and tedious.  However, the fact that I would like to make that commitment to someone is probably proof positive that I'm not actually the commitment phobic that I claim to be or that some of my friends might profess me to be.  So, the concept isn't a problem for me.  I like, heck honestly, love the idea of sharing my life with someone.  I've put off a lot of the things that I would like to do just because I want to do those things with someone else.  Or they just don't seem as important on my list of to do because I want "to do" with someone.  I've done a lot of things with my boys--amusement parks, hockey games, hiking, beaches.  I did these things with them while they were growing up because I love to do with them and because I loved sharing those moments with my boys.  There's little point in me spending a long weekend in St. Augustine by myself, even if it is one of my most favorite places in the world.  I'm definitely not afraid of being alone but it really isn't my preferred status.

The problem is that it is simply not as simple as a guy wanting to marry me and me wanting to marry him.  I mean it should be and I think once you find the right person it truly is that damn simple.  However, I've had guys think I'm the one and me think "not just no, but hell no".  I've had one that I know of that thought "nope" when it came to me even though I might have.  I suppose that's another reason that most of my friends would agree with that ex-boyfriend's brother.  I've had plenty of times that I could've made the commitment to someone.  But then we get into something truly more complicated.  Why didn't I want to when I've had these opportunities?  Well, that really is the question isn't it?  I want an intellectual match.  I'm not the brightest light bulb, nor am I the dimmest setting on the light switch.  I've found several guys that I've dated are within the acceptable range of intellect.  In fact, every last one of them.  That seems to be easy schmeesy there.  I want a physical match.  I wrote in a previous blog about the study conducted about physical appearance.  I've been more than willing to drop down a number or two even for someone I thought was a good match, but the truth is that has often caused more problems than it's worth.  Physical appearance and compatibility should be the least important in the grand scheme of the trifecta, but I've dated a guy that was well below what anyone would think I should date (appearance).  He turned out to be one of the most heinous, horrible jerks I've ever known, and honestly I'd never date anyone that I was not physically attracted to ever again because of him.  I can be treated like shit by a guy I'm attracted to; I'm sure as hell not going to put up with it from some guy that I'm not really attracted to.  Still, while physical attractiveness and compatibility are definitely deal breakers, it's not the top priority.  It's like the third place horse for the trifecta.  So two of the horses in the race can be easily placed as the second and third place ponies.

The emotional compatibility seems to really be where the problem starts and ends then by process of elimination.  I expect my friends, male and female, to have my back and vice versa.  So it's not a surprise that I expect a man to have my back, stand by me, protect me, and know that he's there for me whether good, bad or indifferent.  As a great friend of mine put it, "In public a man is supposed to have your back no matter what.  He can tell you in private you were wrong, but he'd damn well better not tell you in public.  If you're under attack, then he better draw swords.  If you stumble, he'd damn well better lift you up."  To her point, a man is supposed to be a man and just because I can stand up for myself, I'm strong, self-efficient and capable, I can still expect a man to take the lead in public.  Men don't typically show vulnerability but to a very few; sometimes, they don't even show their closest male friends.  It's often the women that they are committed to that get to see their "softer" sides.  I'm fine with that, and in fact, to a large degree expect it.  Pretty much every guy I've ever dated more than a couple dates is that.  If I see that waver, nothing makes me turn tail and run faster.  It might take me a couple months or so to recognize the problem, but after that I'm going to bolt.  There's only been one, and I mean ONLY one, that I gave a pass when he failed to defend me, but in all fairness, I didn't realize it at the time.  He ended the relationship because he knew he wasn't doing it.  AND, he defended me tooth and nail for a while afterwards--at least according to some people.  That particular instance might have been far more complicated also than the norm.  However, I know if some of the guys I've dated in the past are reading this, they're thinking "that wasn't my issue".  They're probably right.  There were other emotional considerations.  My ex-husband got kicked to the curb for cheating and more importantly for continuing to cheat after being caught.  Nothing screams a man has no respect for you than cheating.  I dropped a guy like a hot potato because I didn't like his friends--not my job to choose his friends or change him.  Like him the way he is or cut him loose.  I dropped a guy because I didn't like his family.  Again, like him the way he is (and his family if he's close to them) or cut him loose.  I dropped a guy because he made me feel like I was his mother--nothing is a bigger turn off to me than a man with "mommy issues".  I dropped one of my best friends because he was an alcoholic.  I dropped another because both his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend he had kids with would call screaming at him on a regular basis.  If it had been one, probably not, but two?  I dropped one guy because he was such an arrogant ass even his "friends" said that they just agreed with him because it was easier to do so.  So there could any number of a thousand emotional reasons that I'll walk away from an otherwise decent match but I also think all of them are reasonably justifiable.  At least from my point of view.  There are some emotional things that I overlooked that friends of mine wouldn't.   So I think it's really a question about what I am or am not willing to live with,  and that's no different than anyone else.  I just haven't managed to find that emotional connection that is a truly good match.

Besides, I've been willing to make a lifelong commitment to three different men.  Honest and true commitments.  So it's not that I'm incapable.  It's not that I'm not willing to compromise and share.  It's that I'm unwilling to settle for less than I've had in the last of those three relationships.  Each one of those was better than the last and the last one was very, very easy.  We never talked about the relationship; it just seemed to work (granted until we broke up).  I felt confident and secure and safe in the relationship...again, until it ended.  We matched intellectually and physically, but ultimately, we became incapable emotionally.  It's probably debatable who's fault, if either of us were at fault or even whether it was just circumstances.  Who knows.  Doesn't really change a damn thing in my current circumstances other than nothing has come close since.  A friend pointed out that I may never find anything close to it again.  I might have argued that point with her a year ago...hell, she might've argued against herself a year ago.  However, I am simply unwilling to settle for less.  Why would I?  It's not that I'm comparing.  I've thought about that too.  It's that I'm not willing to go backwards.  If there was a relationship that worked that well for me, then there has to be one that will work as well or better.  That's faith, I suppose.  Of course, one of my atheist friends would tell me that faith is ridiculous and there's no such thing as "the one".  I'd argue as I argued in a previous blog about the mathematical probability of randomness.  There are theorems that prove that random points are in fact fixed points that will occur no matter what.  Since we will never "prove" that those random points are not what people base their "faith" on, I'll just suffice that I have faith that everything happens for a reason and eventually everything works itself out the way it's supposed to.  I just haven't reached that point in time where it's completely inevitable in spite of the appearance of being random happenstance.

Basically it comes down to this:  I'm not really a commitment phob.  I'll make a commitment.  I have in the past and it doesn't seem to stop me from trying because commitments that I've made seemingly have failed.  I don't blame or feel angry that things haven't worked; I'm not a man hater or some other ridiculous stereotype because of any past transgressions.  I'm just waiting on that one perfect random moment that the stars all align or some mathematical theorem that guides my life comes to its apex.  Or more easily stated, I have faith that everything happens for a reason and when it's right it will just happen.  Until it's right, well, when it's not right, nothing but cottontail...

Cottontail Syndrome

I don't claim to give advice and I'm not one to try to.  I sometimes get asked for my opinion, and I tend to make sure that my "advice" is expressed as it's just my opinion.  Some friends want advice; some just want an ear to ping stuff off of.  Sometimes, neither.  I suppose it also comes down to who do you trust enough to talk to, and most of my friends, in spite of my blog, know that I'm not running around telling every Tom, Dick and Harry their business.  I often tell the stories as they affect me and only to the effect that I believe that lots of people experience similar situations.  Those similarities are what touch us and make us feel connected and less alone in our situations.  I think that loneliness can be overwhelming at times.  I've been there, and I know for sure that I am not the only one.  One of the hardest times for most people I think is to be in a relationship that they find no longer tangible.  No one wants to give up on someone that they have invested time in, but at the same time, no one wants to be in a relationship that they feel stifles them.  I've joked that I'm the epitome of commitment phobic.  I suffer immensely from "cottontail syndrome"...run rabbit, run.  Some people I know suppose that is because I was the victim of a bad relationship with infidelity at its worst.  I'm not really sure.  So perhaps, I need to explore this possibility.

I have a lot of friends in less than satisfying relationships.  I know you have to take the good with the bad, but I sometimes wonder if the bad is even worth the good when I observe their experiences.  The ones that are married tend to stick it out longer, and sometimes, make it work in spite.  I have a buddy who's been married over 20 years.  I'll admit I adore him--mainly because we are like two peas in a pod.  However, there is a major difference between us.  In his marriage 20 years ago, he was the cheating dog, and I was the married to a cheating dog.  He and his wife survived his infidelity, mainly because of her.  As anyone that is a regular reader of my blog knows, my dog got kicked to the curb.  Our conversations are often pretty frank, since both he and I suffer from honesty syndrome--sometimes we can be too honest for our own good.  (How he got caught by the way.)  Perhaps his infidelity was too much, seems like karma kicked his ass, because he's now impotent.  There's an irony there that just grabs you.  He's also coping now with his wife cheating.  I'm not sure if her cheating started before or after his issues started, but it's a strange twist of events to be sure.  He jokes about it once in a while like it's so matter of fact and there's not anyone that doesn't know about it--although other than when he brings it up, no one acknowledges it.  It's become an unwritten rule to a large degree.  I asked him once why he stayed.  His response was a long, long awkward moment of silence followed by, 'It is what it is."  It is what it is.  It is what it is?  It is what it is!  The words resonated in my head.  Wow.  Complacency?  Like I stated, he and I are two peas in a pod.  There'd be no 'it is what it is' for me.  Of course, where we differ is that very few women suffer from not being able to perform.  Most women that don't perform choose to not perform.  And, I've never been the cheating dog.  In his shoes, after a long time considering his position, I suppose he's right.  He still loves her with all his heart and vice versa, and like me, he firmly believes what comes around goes around.  This is his around.  It is what it is.

Honestly, I know several couples that stayed together after infidelity.  In most, it was the man that cheated, and the women did the ever faithful stand by your man routine.  In most of the cases where it was the woman that cheated, the marriage ended.  Most men simply will not stand for that, because their egos just won't take the blow.  In the cases where it's the man though, there is a myriad of possibilities of the outcome.  One friend has stuck it out after her husband cheated and now he's an absolute loon when he gets worried over the possibility of her leaving him.  He's much like Chris Rock says in one of his comedy skits.  Men worry after their own infidelity that they've given the woman a free pass.  Another stuck it out, and over the years she became more and more bitter over the way he treated her.  I'm not sure the infidelity ever came to a complete stop.  Her loyalty was repaid by him being gone 5 nights a week for various meetings with his Masonic brethren.  What I know about the Masons, I thought they were supposed to be striving to be better men.  I don't see how infidelity falls into being a better man.  Perhaps the Masons are more smoke and mirrors than they let on.  I'm not even sure that he was actually going to Masonic meetings, and I don't think she bought it either.  But, I never understood her standing by him.  She loved him at some point, but she became so bitter for a while that I tend to believe that lead to her early passing.  The heart can only sustain so much bitterness, anger and hatred.  There truly is a fine line between love and hate.  I actually would love to close this paragraph with the "happy ending" version of these stories, but I simply don't have one.  I have one acquaintance, I suppose she thinks were friends, who is as happy as she thinks she can be in spite of her husband's cheating.  Of course, she's a very shallow, money focused woman.  She doesn't work, and her husband makes plenty of money.  She's perfectly content with him cheating because to paraphrase a conversation we had once, she wouldn't want his ass all over her anyway.  I asked if she worried at all that he would ever leave her high and dry and possibly broke.  She laughed.  The prenuptial that he had insisted on cut both ways.  Since she could prove his infidelity, she would walk away with a minimum of half of everything.  Plus, he loved her in his own way.  OK.  My assessment is that it is simply a marriage of convenience now, regardless of whatever it was before.  I'm not sure, but I guess I knew myself better than I thought I did 18 years ago.  I kicked my dog to the curb, and while I'm positive that might not be the best for someone else, it was definitely the best for me.

There are times that I've wondered if infidelity is the reason that I am such a commitment phob.  I mean amongst my friends my phobia is notorious.  I'm simply unwilling to make a real long term commitment to anyone other than my children.  Even the dog (and by dog, I mean my famous Akita) should be worried whether or not I can make a long term commitment to him.  I'm already trying desperately to pawn him off on my oldest son--well, in truth, the dog is supposed to be his and his brothers.  Still, when they decided to pawn him off on me, the first thought was to drop his ass off at the pound and call it a day.  He's only still living with me because my boys would kill me if I did that and that stupid "but I love you Mom" look that he picked up from my kids.  Of course, I'd be lying if I said I've never wanted to make that commitment.  I was engaged when I was young--by young I mean 19.  I'm not sure how long that relationship would've lasted in retrospect, but I was totally head over heels.  Of course, the problem with puppy love is that sometimes it doesn't become the real thing.  The second time that I really wanted to get married, well, I married him.  And, when they say there's a fine line between love and hate, that's not an understatement.  Yes, love can skip over that rope so fast it will make your head spin.  Of course, since I find hate a useless emotion, it didn't take me long to get over it.  I have friends that have been divorced for years, both male and female, and still hate or obsess over their exes.  They writhe from the thought of the cheater being happy.  My response to them is no cheater is happy.  If they were happy, they wouldn't be cheaters.  The third time, yes believe it or not there was a third time, I just never discussed it, never brought it up, and put it in the back of my pea brain.  Although I would've gone there in a heartbeat, I simply didn't want to ruin what I had and figured it would work itself out in the short or long run.  Since I'm still single, you can pretty much guess how that ended.  It never occurred to me that he even might cheat, and even if it had, I suppose the heart wants what the heart wants.  The relationships that I've had since, well, I'll admit that sometimes the heart wants something and then it changes its "mind".  The luster, or maybe the lust, washes off.  Or maybe the relationship, no matter what the heart wants, becomes intangible.  My friends will tell you I might even choose the intangible over the tangible simply because I prefer to run away like a scared rabbit--nothing but cottontail.  Of course, in those cases, infidelity or even the hint of a possibility of infidelity, have absolutely nothing to do with my desire to run.  So while I've wondered in the past if it was my "problem" with commitment, it's not.  Whatever my phobia stems from, it simply is what it is.

My sister often advises me to be sure that I'm happy in the relationship whenever I'm in one.  After all the years of observing the bad to great relationships of my friends, I do understand that being happy in a relationship is the only reason to be there.  If you're not happy, perhaps it's a temporary thing.  In that case, you can ride out the rough spot.  If you can't see yourself reaching that point, well, maybe you need to wait until the "emotion" has died down a little so that you can see the forest through the trees.  The reality though is that if once it's over you feel, or the other person feels, that a huge weight has been lifted off of the proverbial shoulders, then the relationship simply was going to eventually end in misery.  No reason to force something that isn't tangible.  It simply won't work.  I kick myself sometimes.  I do sometimes think I'd be better off if I could've made the tangible relationship, but then I also realize that status quo, staying somewhere where I'm not happy, just wouldn't work for me.  My one friend says the problem isn't that either.  She points to that third time that I would've made a lifelong commitment and not given it a second thought.  Looking back she asked me to ponder and decide if I would've changed my point of view on that now.  That's a serious thought.  It's been on my mind for months now.  Several months.  Would I change or even think of changing the outcomes of other relationships I've been in?  Those that didn't work, didn't for a reason, right?  That is my logic most of the time.  Why didn't I marry one of my best friends several years ago instead of entering into a pact that would likely never come to fruition?  Wow.  The answer is scary.  I wouldn't because my pea brain didn't let go of something that was intangible.  I ran away from the fact that I didn't want to see and I never quite resolved it.  Infidelity while it might be a misery factor is not the reason that I'm a commitment phobic.  I'm a phobic because my heart set itself on one thing and my brain and heart have never reconciled since.  I'm not sure what to make of that answer.  I suppose it makes me a little stupid somehow.  The one thing I can say is that I've finally reached a reconciliation--or at least the heart and head have.  It's not that I'm a commitment phob; it's that the heart wants what the heart wants.  Until it accepts that what it wants isn't tangible, it simply is what it is.