The Changeling Part I

When you think about it, we all have had different childhoods than others. But when we are children - we think everyone else is normal but ourselves. So maybe I'm not so unusual but I definitely thought when I was a child that my family was really "different".  I felt very estranged from the rest of my classmates and friends. I was, however, particularly drawn to one friend, Carol, who in later years (high school) her father whose drinking had gotten out of control, had robbed a bank - not to steal the money but to prove that he was a real man. But that is another story for another time. I only tell it to ensure you, dear reader, that I felt strange as a child and strange attracts strange, like my friend Carol.

One reason why I felt so strange was because my parents are Deaf. Back then we said Deaf/Mutes. Even further back in history they said Deaf and Dumb (shudder). It wasn't so very far back that was the case - even today I can find an old timer or two, or very ignorant person, that says Deaf and Dumb (pronounced "Deef and Dum") - and they mean no harm, except ignorance can be very harmful. The source of the word Dumb back then was that it meant temporarily unable to speak. But the reason why it was thought that they are unable to speak is what gave the word dumb such a hurtful meaning. But I digress.

My parents are Deaf. They cannot hear. They both have the ability to vocalize but never learned when at school, at least not enough to vocalize with their mouths. They both communicate using their hands and body - American Sign Language, ASL. They do not read lips. My parents attended school from the late 1930's until the late 1940's - give or take a year or two, in the midwest.  Back then I think the emphasis was to give the Deaf the ability to communicate via ASL and the ability to read and write (English). Understand ASL and English are two separate languages - what my parents learned to read and write was more of an ASL version of English. They essentially learned the English word equivalent for the signs they used to so gracefully communicate. So when they wrote notes to hearing people, I was often embarrassed at how "dumb" they sounded and usually the recipient of said note was often confused to the point of looking at me for translation. And so the words "Deaf and Dumb" really, really rubbed me raw. I knew my parents were not dumb because of their level of writing/reading skills. At a much younger age, it felt like it. I learned to read very early, and buried myself in books. In the books I read, not one family had Deaf people in their family, so I had no idea what a normal family with Deaf members was like. I only knew what a normal family was like - at least in the books. Reading those books, I was sure that Irish fairies had put me down in the land of corn and pig farms to replace the child they had stolen from this family. And they used me as the replacement because I was or might be smart enough to think fast on my feet and escape. And, Oh, escape, I did...If only cultural anthropology was taught in grade school.

I've been hearing a lot in the past year or two, that today's Deaf parents do not and will not let their hearing children act as interpreters for them in the public. This has been a puzzling revelation to me. But another revelation, I am so glad to see, is that it appears that the Deaf are now taught English, along with ASL. And this time, it's American English, the same as we hearing learn it. So when a Deaf person writes down a note, you can read it, understand it, and in fact may never discern the note was written by someone who does not have a grasp of the English language, unlike my parents, who might as well have been born in another country. But today's Deaf is not what my story is about - it is just another part of what I've learned about who I am. I'm finding that my childhood was unique in many ways. I often think, nodding my head knowingly, "Oh, yeah! I know what it's like to be CODA!" (Child of Deaf Adults) when I see CODA groups now on Facebook - but now I get the distinct impression today's CODA and I have nothing in common.

No one ever believes me when I tell them I was painfully shy as a child. They laugh and say, "You?" Yes, me. Nothing was scarier than to go visit some old people who would roar in my face like a bear and laugh (my mom's father). And nothing was more humiliating than to facilitate a conversation between my parents and a hearing person in public. Either because of the written notes that were misunderstood or because I was handy as a translator. The store clerk: "May I help you?" directed pointedly at my parents, whose backs were to said clerk. I would have to explain "They are deaf." and apparently that was not enough. "They cannot hear you!!!" then tap, tap, tap on the parental unit to get parent attention, "Look," I sign, "there is a store clerk asking if you want something?" The parent will turn around look at the clerk and maybe ask me to ask them "Where is the size 12?" or "I read there was a sale on socks - these don't look like they are on sale." and from that point on I was stuck interpreting the conversation.

Go to the doctor's - I would have to both interpret for my parents at their appointments or even at mine. I didn't always interpret for my parents, some things were too...modest. And they wound up getting a lot of their health care screwed up - because all translations were done through notes. And when I did it - I didn't always get things exactly right.

Once I had a terrible, terrible pain in my stomach. My dad came to get me from school and take me to the doctor's. This was the days of long office waits - 3-4 hours were not unheard of - one did not go to the emergency room unless one had a bone sticking out of a limb - or had stopped breathing. By the time I got in to see the doctor - the pain had disappeared. The doc says it's probably just gas. I didn't quite understand but I understood it was something that could come and go - and it was definitely gone. And when asked what caused it - maybe he said constipation or poor food habits - somehow the only thing my parents got out of it was popcorn. To this day, my mother always warns me when I eat popcorn that it will play havoc with my stomach. I've never experienced another gas pain as intense as that one or if I did - I knew what it was - and somehow knowing what it was - made it easier to deal with. But what I do know is that popcorn did not cause the gas in later years - whether it did back then or not. My memory is fuzzy but I think I glommed onto the popcorn as a culprit because we had some the night before - it was a way of giving my parents a black and white answer they could understand. Otherwise, I might be there for ever trying to explain it all when I barely understood it myself.

We rarely if ever ate out but when we did it was a super huge treat. My dad would tell us we could have two food items and a drink. And yes, a drink could be a shake. Me, being the underprivileged child that I was would always order 2 french fries and a chocolate shake. I was making up for a lot of lost time. But I rarely enjoyed my meals. As we sat there eating and talking - so many people would stare at us. Some walking by, some in their own tables and booths. Just open staring no attempts to hide it. By the time I was 9 or 10, I understood enough to know what I was eating was not very healthy and very fattening. I already had body issues thanks to my grandparents comparing me to the good cousins who were all very painfully skinny. So I imagined as these people were staring at us - that they could see what awful foods we were eating. My brother was like me, 2 fries and a shake (except he was thin as rail, too) my sister tried to be more prim and proper and would order a burger, fries and soda or shake. I think my mom order fish, fries and soda and my dad, 2 burgers and shake. So probably not too many of us at the table eating well and certainly no quarter pounders or whoppers - those were expensive. So now I wonder - can they see how cheap we are? Can they see how badly we eat? And losing my appetite fast.  Yeah, I know now, they were watching us sign - many have told me how amazing and beautiful they found it. I get it. But the staring was hard to deal with as a kid with too many self-esteem issues.

Me and the skinny cousins. I'm dead center - holding up my hand forming the letter W. (No, it's not the  number 3. :-) )

Trump continues to take credit for nothing he did for the VA.

I’m going to make my main point here*. My point is that President Trump often says things that are patently untrue, half-true, or takes credit for successes that are not his. Below is one very big example, near and dear to my heart. If you don’t want to read any further, I’ll assume it’s because you have those blinders on too tight and too afraid to remove them to see the truth.

A day or two ago, I read on a friends Facebook wall - a somewhat hysterical transcript of Pres. Trump with the Finland President at a press conference, held 10/2/2019. A reporter from Reuter’s asked a question and set off another one of Pres. Trump’s incomprehensible, rambling obscure rants. If you want a transcript of the rant or a link to the press conference - to hear for yourself what he said - send me a private message and I’ll give you links.

When I read the transcript - I felt it was my duty to go watch the press conference to see if the transcript matched his words. I know how easy it is falsify things that President Trump might have said - because it’s predicated on the knowledge that most people never do their own fact checking. But I always do.

I listened to the press conference the above incident, he tried again to show the world how “wonderful” he is - at 28 minutes and 30 seconds of the same press conference he says:

“Our vets are now taken care of, we got Choice. Nobody thought we could ever could get Choice. That’s when you have to wait online as a vet. You go outside, you get a doctor. We pay the bill. You don’t have to wait for three weeks to see a doctor if you are a vet.  We cherish our vets, at least, this administration does.”  

Why would that make me angry? Well, because he is flat out lying and no one is challenging him. Let’s take the name he calls the program: Choice. The bill he signed, June 2019 is called:  the VA Mission Act. He says nobody thought we could ever get Choice. Choice is a program that allows veterans to seek medical treatment outside of the VA hospitals, in part because of the waiting lines, and lack of specialist. Not sure why he says it’s about waiting online. The Choice, Accountability, and Transparency Act was signed in 2014. I’ll let all of you do the math on who signed that one.

My personal experience with Choice is that we still have to wait in long lines to get outside doctors, therapists, etc. I remember receiving my first Choice card when I lived in Wisconsin - prior to 2016. Do I need to point out that what was said “nobody thought we could ever get Choice” is a flat out lie?

The bill that President Trump signed in June 2018 is called the VA Mission Act. Note: MISSION (Maintaining Internal Systems and Strengthening Integrated Outside Networks) President Trump magnanimously signed this bill that will cost, you the taxpayers, 55 Billion dollars. But he continues to call it Choice - yeah, sure I get it - we veterans get a Choice - but why would Pres Trump continue to call something he signed by the other name? A bill that really did happen and signed by a former democratic president? My guess? He really doesn’t even know what he signed. But he wants it to go down in history that Choice was all his.

And how is that VA Mission Act working for veterans? It still has not been fully funded and “nobody” knows when it will be funded. In September 2018 - congress looked over the VA budget and felt they could allot 1.5 billion to the Mission Act - with a proviso that they reserve the right to take the money back if they need it elsewhere. Why? Because President Trump told them they could not raise the limit on the VA Budget - yet, he signed the bill to include 55 Billion in funding. Ironically, one article I read cited the reason why the Choice Act didn’t live up to it’s design was from “lack of funding”. Hmmm...sound familiar?

*I hear all too often that I write too much. For those complainers? Sorry, I think all of you are just too lazy to read to the end.

References:

Kassraie, Aaron, March 19, 2019, Veterans Cheer Push for Private Health Care Options but Worry About Funding (Some veterans and lawmakers say it’s still not enough), AARP, https://www.aarp.org/home-family/voices/veterans/info-2019/mission-act-funding-concerns.html 

Sisk, Richard, 24 May 2019, VA Ready to Roll Out Mission Act Program on June 6 But Expect Glitches: Officials, Military dot com, https://www.military.com/daily-news/2019/05/24/va-ready-roll-out-mission-act-program-june-6-expect-glitches-officials.html

Sisk, Richard, Jun 6, 2018, Trump Signs $55 Billion Bill to Replace VA Choice Program, Military dot com, https://www.military.com/daily-news/2018/06/06/trump-signs-55-billion-bill-replace-va-choice-program.html

VFW, March 06, 2019, VFW Concerned With VA MISSION Act Implementation (Congressional testimony reveals VA ignored vital input from veterans’ service organization community) https://www.vfw.org/media-and-events/latest-releases/archives/2019/3/vfw-concerned-with-va-mission-act-implementation

Wentling, Nickki, September 11, 2018, Mission Act gets funding under historically high VA budget agreement, The Stars and Stripes, https://www.stripes.com/news/mission-act-gets-funding-under-historically-high-va-budget-agreement-1.547070

Angry

For a very long time, I've known that anger is not productive. That anger can cause me to do stupid things. My anger is part of my hostile environment. Anger slows down my progress. Anger is nothing more than pernicious acid that runs through my body - and only mine - and becomes more toxic as it continues. I know that if I'm angry and I forgive whoever gave me the reason to be angry - that I can experience a great weight lifted off my shoulders, the keys to Kingdom, they say is forgiveness. The acid that is killing me will be neutralized never to make me sick again, with forgiveness. I know that if I "pretend not to be angry" or act happy - that pretty soon it will be true - just like they say - a good habit can take up to 21 days to acquire life and regularity. I believe that. I do.

But still I'm angry, so many things. But mostly I'm angry that I am nobody - and I hold myself fully responsible for that. When I was a girl I don't really remember any particular desire to be famous or to change the world in a good way. I remember wanting 4 kids, the picket fence, and a husband that can provide for me and our beautiful children. I think that one fell off the radar about age 19, by age 25, I knew that was so far from what I wanted. Another thing I wanted was to be a veterinarian. I spent the day at a veterinarian's office on "career day" - they operated on a dog whose belly was full of, I don't know, pink pus - it looked like pepto bismol. They had to do the surgery because the pus was building up and about to burst the poor animals belly. It was utterly horrendous and I knew that I could not do this job. Not because it grossed me out - no, too much country in me then to let that bother me. Instead, I realized that I felt so terrible for the poor animal that I was crying in pain for the sweet helpless animal that asked for nothing more than a meal and a loving pet now and then. To this day, I cannot stomach the pictures on social media and even television that show abused animals - to see this breaks my heart in so many pieces, I'm actually crying right now. It makes me angry at myself for this - because I know of no other way to garner sympathy than to rip the cover off and show the truth, the ugliness. Some of my reluctance to view the pictures stems from the anger I know it will cause me - the fury at people who could let this happen, or in fact cause the torture and killing of dogs (in particular). I cannot fathom what kind of person thinks this is ok - and I want to do something - but I'm not in control of the world. I don't get to make the rules and mandate that animal torturers face immediate death for their insane behavior. I mean, do we really want people like this on the face of our earth. How in the world can someone like that contribute to society in any way shape or form. That goes for child molesters, too. (Just Sayin'...). So...no veterinarian for me. I had even forgone my favorite German classes for a year of Latin, in case I needed it for reading the labels on the medicine bottles or something silly like that. The only other thing I felt passionate about was archeology, more specifically anthropology. I was completely fascinated by the Egyptians and Sumerians. I don't know what happened to that one.

When I got to high school - I think deep down I lost hope for myself - and began to pay more attention to how wild can I be without getting caught than school. It was an every other semester thing. One semester I would shake myself up and say, get a grip, good grades are important. The next semester I would care less if it were possible. The shame of how I fell through the system in school is part of my current anger. That an intelligent, curious, anxious to please poor as dirt girl could just fall through the cracks and graduate 362 out of 365 - I was never counseled about taking tests, ACT and SAT, for college. I must have been 30 or 40 before I even heard of them and wondered how they completely passed me by. I guess by the time I was a junior or maybe the beginning of my senior year - I realized this was not what I wanted - but the die was cast for my education - and no one in the guidance office ever saw potential in me, I guess - I know not a single one of them ever talked to me about my future. I decided to join the military. I would go places, do things I could never do in that small town I grew up in. And most importantly, I would make a contribution to the world. At least, the USA, if nothing else. :-) I really felt it was important to make a difference. I just didn't know in what - so despite the cold war era, and the passing of Viet Nam, where our troops were needlessly killed, and horribly looked down on by their own countrymen - I felt that was my best chance. Somehow, I got talked into joining the ANG first. You know, what if I hate the military? Then I'll be stuck 3 or 4 years full time. If I join the ANG and hate it - I only have to deal with it once a month and a week of every year. The recruiters were adorable and charming and I was hooked. I enjoyed boot camp, despite the fact that I had no athletic abilities and everything was painful work. Running, holding buckets for hours, marching, the endless drills. To graduate from boot camp, we were required to run 5 laps with our troop and the last lap we could do on our own. We also had to pass an obstacle course that we practiced on once before the live version. I kinda like that one - but still I was not the best obstacle course participant. Running was painful right up the the last time - I got better but it didn't help that I smoked. Back then, we were allowed to smoke in boot camp. "Smokers light 'em, if you got 'em" was my favorite words from the Drill Instructors. Strangely, though I wasn't selected first, I did wind up as a squad leader. Our drill instructor kept firing people if they screwed up too much. One day about 7 or 8 days into boot camp - I remember standing in formation, not really paying attention, she was...well, trying to show one of the squad leaders what to do - and that squad leader got fired on the spot. She yelled out "Helmig?" I was nearly frozen to the spot from fear but I went up to her - and she told me to take over as squad leader 1. There were 4 of us. We marched in 4 columns. There was a guidon, and roadguards. I had been picked for none of those positions initially, kinda bummed me out but there were many of us and faceless "pickles" to be sure. When she told me she wanted me to fill the position. I was beyond ecstatic. I filled that position with pride and never screwed up like the others had until she found me. Long story short - I was on my way to being asked to do things I never thought I could do and completing all that was asked of me with meticulous care and joy. Remember that "eager to please" part? :-)

Those were some very happy days for me. The military was good for me. And I was good for the military. One of the things that I still miss to this day is the completely crazy humor that went on all the time behind the scenes and the trust I was given by everybody to do what was asked of me. Never once did I encounter someone who had doubts about me. Never once did I let anyone down.

I came back from boot camp and tech school to be a civilian again - and I was depressed. The only job I could get was working as a "nurses aide" in a nursing home. Then I got a job working for an insurance company. I can't remember exactly what I did - it was boring as anything could be but I felt proud to be an "office worker" a white collar employee. Who knew that loudmouthed, laughing, crazy in secret girl from the small town surrounded by corn fields could pull off being a "city woman". I remember crushing terribly on a gorgeous redhead in another department. He noticed. He asked me out. We went on a few dates - and pretty soon I found myself crying about him. He just didn't do anything for me. And I felt terrible. It was what I wanted right? How come I didn't grow close to him and fall in love? He was...boring. He had not much of a personality. I bet he would have made the perfect husband and father of my 4 children. That he would have progressed in his position enough to support us while I raised the children. But I already knew I didn't want that. I wasn't sure what I wanted but staying home with kids was not one of my dreams any longer. Not even close.

Soon a position opened at the ANG base. A full time position - it was called an AGR job - and it was in my chosen career field (which is a really funny/ironic story and for another time). I applied and got the position - those were some happy days in my life. Instead of wearing an Air Force uniform - I just had to wear blue slacks/skirts, black shoes, and light blue blouses with collars. Or I could wear my uniform - totally up to me. I made so many friends there. I was on a softball team for the women and just had a blast. Still not in the greatest of shape - but I powered through the pain because the joy was so worth it. I found that many of the men there that worked full time were attracted to me. And I ate them like candy. Of course, I don't mean literally but I was so flattered by all the attention. Of course, I made some really awful choices - like going out with the married men who were interested in me, as well as, the unmarried ones. Oddly, the unmarried ones were ... like that red haired guy - so darned cute until I got to know them and then I would realize they weren't very charismatic? Exciting? Okay, I get to say it - they were boring. It never took me long to tire of them. But the taken ones, I broke my heart over many of them.

I started taking a few college courses and met this amazing hunk - tall, dark curly hair built like a brick you know what house. He had a black belt in karate - and I had the hots for him. He was in my criminal justice class I had been taking. Thinking even then of following the rules and maybe working towards another noble job in law enforcement. Who knew. His name was Bob Byrne - I remember because his last name was the same as the somewhat famous mayor of Chicago, Jane Byrne. She was the first woman to be elected mayor of such a big city - pretty cool. And weirdly, Bob, gorgeous hunky Bob was interested in me. We went out on dates and he was open with me that he dated other women. I was crazy jealous but I wanted him - so I was willing to put up with that. Back then - dating around was not as odd as it is now but it was definitely starting to fall out of favor. So, just to keep even, I started seeing this guy at the ANG who was gorgeous, sweet, and amazing in many things, but married. I remember once, ha ha, Bob was taking me to one of my softgames - on his motorcycle (yeah, of course, a cool guy like him had a motorcycle). And as we are headed to the game, I see my married man on his motorcycle. He is headed to my game, as well. Kinda embarrassing but it was sorta funny. I think Bob might have been a bit jealous, Kevin was also tall, built like a weight lifter and sweet as can be. But Bob still withheld a part of him from me - and I knew we were not to be.

My boss wanted me to learn more about my job and he sent me back to Shepherd AFB, TX - where I first trained after boot camp. I was thrilled to be traveling and going to meet new people - the usual - and of course, I loved learning new things. I don't know what was wrong with me in high school but after high school I could not get enough of learning. I'm to this day, at 58, still taking classes.

When I got to the class, I met my first husband. Also tall, built and dark haired. Yeah, I had a certain type. He was miserable, his wife had just upped and left him for another man. They had a baby together, and the baby (according to him was probably not even his) was going with mom. He was so hysterically funny, he was very smart, and the type of person I like to be around - he knew where he was going and had an ambition to be the youngest Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force. His father was also in the Air Force and had become Base Chief Master Sergeant (to be honest, I forget the specifically title - but it's like an honorarium and it's meant to be a reward and it means you are the guy everyone goes to for ... help...whatever. I knew I wanted him. He was so sad in his divorce and I wanted to mother him. And in a sense he was unavailable. I went back to the ANG with a totally new goal. I wanted to go active duty and be with my future husband. Ha ha. Of course, everyone looked at me like I was crazy - don't you know those tech school romances never work out??? But I wouldn't listen to anyone - it was ultimately the best decision I ever made but it paid a lot for this decision. The regular AF made me take the ASVAB all over again. And because of my score - they felt I was a good candidate to take the DLAB. I was just falling over in awesome wowness. I was smart and the AF really wanted me. The score I got on the DLAB was so high - that I was the immediate interest of many of the people there at the MEPS station. They had not seen a score that high...in...well...maybe never? They told me I was going to go to Monterey Bay, CA to linguist school and I was going to be good at it. I was so torn. I was joining to join my "love" at Shaw AFB CA (hopefully) and here they were tempting me with this exciting career - part of me wanted it to happen and I would just lie to Bruce and tell him, I wasn't given a choice. The military was famous for doing that back then. Making promises you'll go here - or there - and then pulling the rug out and training you in a completely different career than you asked for - and sending you to places like "Why Not Minot" AFB, ND, the "armpit of the AF" - who ever asked to go that base??? But send them to Minot AFB and a slew of other undesirable assignments, they did.

The MEPS people found out that I was already trained and a 5 level in a career field that was chronically undermanned (it was a crappy job I found out later). And they decided that too much money had already been invested in me in that career field - and they did me the courtesy of sending me to Shaw AFB, SC - where my future was anxiously waiting for me. Me, I was kinda disappointed but not really. It was all new adventures to me. My life in many ways went downhill from there but at the same time - the best years of my life were in the USAF. The downhill part was marrying a man I knew I didn't want to marry - and then trying to get out of it. Long story short - he was really angry with me. I was the second woman to leave him, high and dry. And he wasn't a loser. No sir. He was a winner. And I was selfish to not want to see him succeed. But I got tired of being the butt of his hilarious jokes. And I got tired of him doing things to me that I hated but wouldn't quit just because I asked him to - and like all the other guys/men in my life I fell out of love with him pretty quickly before we got married actually. He kinda "blackmailed" me into marrying him anyway. He told me he wouldn't be able to live if I didn't marry him. And he would cry genuine wet tears...The marriage was pretty miserable at times. I didn't want to hurt him. That's an awful thing to do to a human being make them so sad they wanted to commit suicide (that's pretty much the blackmail right there.)  Other times I tried to make the best of it. I wasn't going to get a divorce, by golly. That is a big sin against God and my family would disown me. Notice how my feelings didn't matter here? But he was really a very shallow person. Only cared about his appearances and how was I supporting him in this manner? My job was to be anything he needed me to be in order to be well liked, charming, a winner in the USAF - and I should never, ever, ever disagree with him publicly or otherwise not do his bidding. We had been married about 4 years - and I had already cheated on him 3 or 4 times. I know I'm a miserable person. I just didn't love him. I was so unhappy. The affairs made me feel like a real person and good. He did not.

He wanted to have a baby - to cement our marriage. I wasn't too jazzed but I still wasn't thinking seriously about divorce. He found out that he had varicoceles that were strangulating his testicles and causing them to produce very little sperm. He had it taken care of medically - and for a few weeks he actually left me alone. No demands for sex that I never wanted to have with him. But then he healed and he was back at it - we left one base and went to the next one and I was pregnant. It's a big joke in the military that everyone gets pregnant when they move. They say you are so stressed out about the move that you don't have time to worry/stress/think about getting pregnant and BOOM you get pregnant because you stopped thinking about it. I was pretty overjoyed. I wanted this baby to fix our marriage and I wanted this baby - I wanted my own baby to love without question. A baby that would love me without any demands to be something I was not. We had that baby and things just got worse. Eventually, I left him - but it was the most dramatic, horrible thing I had ever to date. It tore me up. I was a horrible person for giving up after 5 years. I was horrible person for taking away my babies daddy. I was a horrible person. But I left him and I was so happy. The big fly in my ointment was that he spent the majority of the summer begging me not to leave him and threatening to kill himself. I went on a trip in September and when I came back - everyone was quick to tell me that he was all over this chick in the barracks. I was so relieved. Finally, he will leave me alone and get on with his life. His happiness was no longer built on me. I was not responsible for him any longer. The black clouds moved on. Life was pretty good - except...he wanted nothing to do with me. When we divorced - I knew from the past experience he had with his first wife - that he was very, very, very resentful of paying child support. That she was a whore and spent the money on herself and on and on. When I asked him for the divorce - I did talk to a military lawyer - they cannot proctor the divorces but they can advise you a bit. He suggested that I not ask for child support. And I would get "dependent rate BAQ" and the difference was about the same as child support. And that would allow me to ask him to give me complete custody so that when I got assigned to a new base - I would not need his permissions for my child. It sounded good to me - so I told Bruce he would not have to pay child support - he was relieved. And that made it that much easier. When I asked for complete custody because of the future would see us going to different bases all the time. He agreed. But after it was all done - he had absolutely no interest in see his baby - one of the stupid things he said was that if I wanted sole custody then why was I trying to get him to see her? He felt that the baby would remind him too much of me and that it would also mean he would have to deal with me - and also if he took the baby - wouldn't that free me up to go out and have a good time? WE CAN'T HAVE THAT!

All of this despite the fact that he was already married again when this was happening. His wife fully supported him (as I had when he went through the first divorce but he portrayed her as a loose slut with money issues). I felt pretty sure he was doing the same thing to me. I was upset because I did need a break now and then. She, the baby, turned out to be one with high anxieties and she couldn't be separated from me without a lot of crying and drama. And no, she did not stop crying the minute I left daycare - she would usually spend every day pining for me and not interested in the other kids or activities there. I felt like dad would be a good influence for her for making friends and learning to be independent. But he would not cooperate. So I started insinuating that I could collect child support from him - if he didn't want to take our daughter. In other words - I blackmailed him into taking her. Honestly, my biggest thing was her not having a father in her life. He was a huge narcissist egotistical jerk - but his public persona was funny and he was surrounded by good people. I knew it would do my daughter good to get used to not clinging to me all the time. But he made it so difficult. He would bring her back and tell me she would have nothing to do with him. And his wife was the only one to get her to eat - otherwise she might starve to death. It basically came down to his wife was raising my daughter there. This made me very unhappy. But as I found out - I cannot control other people. I can only be angry. Because then - I didn't know much about myself yet. I was only 28 and still had a lot to learn. The biggest thing I have learned as a angry person - is that being angry at someone is the same as allowing a poisonous snake to bite you but instead of thinking you will die - you believe the snake will die. Not true obviously. I tried very hard to be this person - hold no anger - but he made it difficult. Every time I'd start to feel good about myself - we'd have some kind of altercation - over daughter - and my sense of self worth woud dive bomb. And of course, I made a lot of poor choices while I was divorced about men that is - at first it was just me...FREE FREE FREE...and then I started settling down. I realized I still wanted to find that special someone. I was ok with waiting a bit - but acting crazy in the meantime was not conducive to my self worth staying well.

Five years after my divorce - I met husband number 2. I will not spend as much time talking about him but 10 years of me cringing because he was always an angry person. Not angry exactly but easily annoyed. Everything annoyed him. Highway signs were stupid and pissed him off. Women drivers were stupid and pissed him off. Black people sitting on their porch, unemployed really pissed him off. If I didn't stick to a schedule he would get pissed off. He really got pissed off about that kind of thing often. I'd go to the grocery store and come back two hours later. Why the heck was I gone so long. I'd shrug and say, I don't know, I guess I kinda get wrapped up in reading stuff in the store, labels, signs, it was basically a huge distracting job, shopping, and I was easily distracted. And that pissed him off. My daughter really pissed him off. But when we had our (my 2nd) daughter 7 years after we married - he really lost his temper all the time about my first daughter. He was super pissed that her father was not paying child support. In fact, ha ha, did I mention that when we were married, he paid 1800 to his first wife to pay for the legal fees so that her second husband could adopt his son from that marriage. And sure enough, after I got married to husband number 2 - the letter arrived - written by the wife, of course, because he couldn't be bothered to write if he had his wife there to do it, right? They encouraged me to have my 2nd husband adopt my daughter. That really incensed me and of course, it incensed him. Number 2 felt Number 1 should pay to take care of his kid. He brought her into the world - it was his responsibility. Number 1 just wanted her gone. We went through a terrible time - where my husband would never let it drop about child support - and finally to get him off my back I told hubby 1 that I was between a rock and hard place and it was really his duty to help take care of her. He resisted and finally started sending me 200.00 savings bonds. The pretext was that he wanted her to have the money - to use for college, etc. You, dear reader, understand that savings bonds have only half the value - at the purchase time. You pay 100.00 for 200.00 bonds - and they could take 20 years to mature. Hubby 2 was incensed - and so was I but I hated the conflict. I hated this anger coming at me from all sides. My girl was so painfully shy that she was diagnosed with social phobia - and yet hubby 2 would absolutely act like a child when she was too shy to talk to him. Well, "she" started it!!! Really, you are an adult. When we had our baby - they never spoke to each other. She was 12 years old - and we had married when she was 5 years old. These two were strangers in my house - and anytime I spent my money (I made just as much sometimes more) as he did - on her he railed and railed about hubby 1. He really resented spending any of his hard earned money for that other guys kid. Yes, this continued into the raising of our daughter - it actually made him angrier and angrier. He was just awful to her and to me. The marriage ended after 10 years. Ok, I doubled the marriage years - so that meant I tried twice as hard, right? No, I just keep making stupid choices. It's really on me - all these years of misery. I chose both of them - and on paper they looked really good. The reality was completely different. Both of them had public personas that everyone just loved - but at home - I was the brunt of their personalities - in Hubby 2 it was just this constant anger - over everything. Some of the stuff that made him angry would just take me by complete surprise and flabbergast me. I was so much happier without him in the picture. But of course, you are never really divorced when you have children in the marriage.

I think I was a terrible mother. I was always so worried about the two girls missing out on something - that I overcompensated. That included discipline. To be honest, the two girls didn't need much. I could take them out in public any time and not worry about scenes and crying over unbought toys and whatever else it is that other kids scream about. At home, they never sassed me - they may forget to do their chores, not that they had any real ones, but they were never belligerent or outwardly rebellious. I pretty much made all the classic mistakes that many single mothers make - God forgive me for that. But for the most part, they both turned out pretty awesome people. They both care about humanity. They do not like confrontation (of course!) I think that says a lot about people - caring about someone else besides yourself - usually means you are not so selfish that you will willing hurt others, physically, abusively, or otherwise act like a sociopath. I think sociopaths are the bane of our society and why we have so many of them - says a lot about how we are scoring at the top of the food chain. We are not. We are losing it. Mankind was not meant to do this alone. We work best as teams and groups. Yet, we never seem get that. And that makes me angry.

After a half-century of trying to be a better person, I know, I know that anger is my problem - but still I cannot shet myself of this. I barely touched on the real reasons why I am angry all the time. I'm no longer angry about the ex's in a specific sense. The add to the general malaise of anger - because they have never been sorry for any horrible thing they did to me and my life. And that there is the problem. We circle back to the beginning. I didn't know what I wanted then - but I think I knew I wanted to be extraordinary - I wanted to make a positive impact on this world. And what makes me the angriest and that many times - I am just being held back because I'm a woman. Yeah, I know that came out of left field. I meant for this entire blog to be about the misery it is to be a woman in a mans work world. But as I started writing this - thinking about how I wanted to make a point that I am angry and I cannot stop it. I guess I felt like it was important to talk about the mistakes I made in the beginning. After writing all of this - I realize that I blame myself for a lot of this - not the discrimination but that I put myself in these positions. I made so many mistakes that I did not progress very well once I left the USAF - the lack of progression, the lack of impact is why I'm so angry all the time. So I suppose in someway I've acknowledge that it's not everyone else's fault. I made some mistakes that I didn't mention. But I hear a blog is not supposed to be a book - so I'm trying hard to make a point. I don't want to be angry - and no matter how much I study on it - no matter what wonderful advice I find - I'm still angry. The advice doesn't' seem to "cut it" for me. I know the real sufferer, the victim, if you will, of my anger, is just me. Only me. But I continue to wait for reparations or apologies - or at least acknowledge that I'm angry about valid issues. And that I deserve a few apologies - and I know that is what it really is - I won't stop being angry until I know the reasons why I am angry are acknowledged and are not diminished in my attempts to heal myself. By diminished I mean, to forgive someone even though they haven't asked for forgiven makes me feel diminished. I do not feel like Mother Teresa, that's for sure. I try and try to forgive and forget - but as many times as I try to forgive myself and others - and I think I'm done with it - it comes back in full fury and force - when yet another thing happens to me that makes me know for a fact that life is definitely not fair. I honestly don't think I'm asking for fairness - I know that I will never give. It's really a truth - life is not fair. And we are not here to get justice in that. I expect bad things to happen to me. I expect to have unlucky days. I just want to know that some of the causes are sorry that they caused it - I am so willing to forgive anyone - when they say to me, I'm sorry. Man, that is a no brainer. It definitely does seem that the anger issues I have are things that have happened with no justice.

I'm reading a lot in the Bible about anger. I know God does not have tolerance for anger. Afterall, he forgives us of everything - why can't we do the same? Here is one passage in particular that really goes into detail. I feel like it's encouraging for me - but ... I seem to forget it a lot.

Colossians 3 (ESV)

Put On the New Self

¹ If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. ² Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. ³ For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. ⁴ When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. ⁵ Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. ⁶ On account of these the wrath of God is coming.

⁷ In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. ⁸ But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. ⁹ Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices ¹⁰ and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. ¹¹ Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. ¹² Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, ¹³ bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. ¹⁴ And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

¹⁵ And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. ¹⁶ Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. ¹⁷ And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

I guess the difference for me is that I asked God to forgive me. I want to very much put on love and peace. But I've never had anyone come back and tell me they were responsible for this misery or that misery. So I don't feel forgiveness in my heart. And that is stupid, too. I'm not better than God that I can pick and choose who or what I forgive. I should be forgiving everything, after all God forgives everything. Even child molesters should they repent, change and ask for forgiveness. Of course, I don't know of any who have done that. But what do I know, right?

This shall probably be continued. I wanted to try and work out my anger - and instead I spent too much time dwelling on my past. It's ok, I forgive myself for this blog. But I'm guessing you dear reader have had enough. No one can take that much whining...

It's about time

This has been on my mind long before the the #metoo phase - what got me started thinking about it was a post from someone I respect very much. The post was a very well worded admonishment to girls and women to dress modestly because to dress immodestly is to cause men to sin (not to mention, God isn't gonna be real happy with how you dress that temple). That it's our duty to not lead people to sin. Leading others to sin is sin, as well. I agree - we should do every thing we can to keep from leading others down that wide path, that path is so smooth and easy to travel.

However, I take some exception to these constant admonishments to girls and women to dress modestly. It's not that I think we should be allowed to dress as immodestly as we want - no, really, I believe in modesty. Our bodies are our most precious treasure - well, it's really our only true treasure. We should take care of it - and keep it under control. What bothers me are the implications not said in the modesty lectures.

First, who is deciding what is modest and immodest? Men. Yep, when a man looks at a women and is immediately sent off in a fantasy of wanton behavior with that woman - you can believe it's the woman's manner of attire that caused it. But wait, did you say you have a thing for women's feet and seeing them in sandals is your big turn on? Or...you love big blue eyes - just bat them once and you have gone to your happy playboy place? And oh, that long blond hair, don't you just want to grab it and drag her to your cave and assault her? Or perhaps you are oddly different, you've always wanted to be swallowed whole by a woman and journey through her body, so when she puts that forkful of roast beef in her mouth, all you can think about is how much you want to be that beef and soon your mind and your body is out of control. Yeah, I think I'm making a point here that should be easy to grasp. We women are really at the mercy and whim of men's imaginations. What is modest to one man may be very immodest to another. And we might as well, cover up our feet, faces, and hair while we are at it - if we are suppose to dress in a manner that does not attract men. Why are we women constantly under scrutiny and judgment about dressing indecently and attracting unwanted attention? How can we possibly know how every man thinks?

How about instead we spend more time telling men this: Men, you must learn that you have no right to put us in the center of your fantasies without our will. You need to understand - the problem is that you have no willpower - not women. So let's work on your will power and how you think of women as chattel and sex objects, not the way you dress or we dress.

What would work, do you think? My suggestion: Mothers could tell their son's that no matter how other people dress - it doesn't give them right to think that person wants to be the object of their sexual fantasies. And it definitely, doesn't mean they have the right to sexually assault women.

We think men know this because we are always telling the women this - but do we really tell men?  We spend way, way, way too much time analyzing women's behavior and what they could have done to prevent being in an awkward situation. Ironically, who didn't grow up thinking men were supposed to be our protectors? That we were weak and they were strong? So what went wrong?

It's this constant assessing and judging of women - telling them what constitutes appropriate behavior, dress, location, speech and anything else that might give men the wrong idea. It's so obvious. We should be telling men - don't get the wrong idea - ever. Simple. Here's another good one, Men, when you are at that frat party and you are drinking too much, you should be looking out for the others who are weaker than you, not ignoring what is going on, or participating.

Years ago, I went to a party at the officer's club in Turkey. While it was primarily American's, there were a few Turkish hanger-ons. I went with my friend, Debbie. She promised if I had too much too drink she would look out for me - and vice versa. I had on a cute little dress - not immodest by most standards but I sure felt "hot" in it. I had a great time, dancing, playing pool, I am a social butterfly and flitted around and around and everyone bought me drinks until I had way too much. You know, I wound up in a closet for awhile half passed out. Just trying to recover. When I finally pulled it together, I came out and almost everyone was gone from the party - and there was Adam (his real name was Etham but he Americanized his name to fit in). Not really sure what Adam's real job was but he always seemed to be at parties, and on tours with us. I think he was a tour guide, who knows. I asked him if he had seen my friend Debbie, who he also knew, and he said yes, and guided me out of the club and somewhere across the street, not sure exactly where. I was completely oblivious and trusting of Adam. As soon as we got inside, instead of turning on a light, he knocked me to the floor and started tearing off my dress and pantyhose, muttering all the while, "you know you want it". I was so drunk - I simply did not respond. I remember trying to push him off of me but having no impact what-so-ever. I remember not screaming? Why? I was just that drunk. I remember rolling my legs around trying to twist away but I wasn't successful. Later, I got out on my own, found my car and drove myself home - still very drunk. I didn't care at this point if I got a DUI in Turkey. I didn't care if getting arrested in Turkey meant I could spend time at the Kerahani (jail for women where they work off their time as prostitutes). I just wanted to go home and feel safe. The next day, I called Debbie or maybe she called me and we talked about the night before - she asked me where I had disappeared - she thought maybe I had taken a cab home. I told her. She was in utter shock and horrified that she had left me in the clutches of that creep. It wasn't her fault, really. She did her duty. She didn't see me for the longest time - and this was before the time of cell phones. She wanted me to report Adam to authorities. I refused. She was livid with me. How could I let this monster continue to prey on other women. My only defense was that other women probably weren't as dumb as I was - getting so drunk and being alone when I should not have been. She kept insisting it wasn't my fault. I kept insisting I didn't want to go through what I knew would be my own reputation on trial. I would hear things like - are you angry with this man and want to get even with him? Is that why you made up this story? Don't you think maybe you led him on? Why didn't you fight harder? Is it true you were flirting with everyone at the party? You are not a delicate petite female, why couldn't you push him off? What were you doing getting so drunk in the first place? Why did you wear that dress when you know how Turkish men feel about American women? And on and on and on. At the time - I didn't have many answers - mostly just guilt and maybe I agreed. I deserved it - I had acted awful.

The #metoo movement took a big chunk of the media's time. I heard many people (men) say things like, this is just women getting revenge. Or, why did they wait so long? I heard a lot of people say things like they probably agreed at first and then changed their mind. What I heard over and over again were excuses for why the women were wrong for "telling" on the men. What I never heard once was - why so many men think it was ok to do this? Even in this time of political correctness - sexual harassment has a way of thinking it's exempt from scrutiny and censor.

And now this business of a politician and a woman who came forward after remaining quiet so many years. There have been allegations of a book deal and self-interest in promotion or politics for herself. Ok, that maybe true. But what I've been hearing most of all - is that she has no right to come out and talk about something that happened 30 years ago. And worst of all, only women who want to stir up trouble (liberals - the opposite political party in this case - next time it will be the other way around, I'm sure) will use something from 30 years ago. And what was she doing at that frat party in the first place, she probably asked for it. This TERRIFIES me - especially because a lot of women are saying this. Really? We are hearing this current story about 2 people where one was a woman who claims she was attacked years ago by the other and making it seem as though it's her fault for waiting too long. Or that it's unbelievable because she waited too long. In either case, what does that say to someone like me? Someone in the exact same situation? That it no longer counts?

Wait, does that mean we should not believe the men who came out 20-30 years later and informed on their priests who abused them when they were boys? Are these men just bringing up some old history for the sake of ruining the priests lives, are they selfish, also, then?

I don't care if this woman is telling the truth or not - what I care about is the way people are going about attacking her actions. We are telling every woman in the world that what happened to them 30 years ago is invalid. Sorry, but what happened to me in Turkey is one of my strongest memories. It's as valid as anything else that has happened to me and has shaped who I am today. It is not the only thing that has shaped me but it was significant. Now I am ashamed of myself for falling for those dumb excuses that only men seem to come up with - that I was asking for it, that I dressed for it, that I put myself in the situation, that I deserved it. NO ONE EVER DESERVES TO HAVE THEIR BODIES VIOLATED AGAINST THEIR WILL. This is a law that will never change.

And until people walk a mile in my shoes or in the shoes of others who have been violated - I would ask that you stop giving your opinion on whether or not a woman deserves to tell her story, to be assaulted, or to otherwise find her guilty of something she did not want nor do.

I also hear women (and men) now talking about the possibility of their sons, brothers, male friends could be brought up on sexual assault charges anytime a woman feels like getting revenge - and everyone has to take the woman's word for it - whether it's true or not. Don't you think if someone woman is plotting revenge on your man - that maybe, just maybe...he might have already played some role or reason in why this woman is angry? Otherwise, maybe you need to do a better job of raising your male family members. Stop telling them that woman should not be assaulted if they are dressed immodestly. Instead, tell them women should never be assaulted - period. In fact, no one should ever be sexually assaulted. It is wrong, wrong, wrong, to sexually assault anyone against their will. Their is no "asking for it". And their role in life is to protect anyone in need of it (weaker than them), not ignore them or take advantage of them. And once we get that through men's heads we won't even have to tell women to stop dressing immodestly for their own safety and stop going to parties for their own safety. And more than likely, there won't be women out there making up stories about men for revenge.

And please, I don't want anyone getting on here and telling me about the men who get assaulted by women. Of course, they are included - however, I just will not and cannot believe the numbers are anywhere near close to what happens to women - and it probably hasn't been happening since time immemorial. Besides, that does not justify women getting sexually assaulted, either.

Facebook Marketplace was ruined from the moment it started.

I am convinced people who sell on Facebook are not trying to sell anything. Why?

They can not be bothered to put details in about the item for sale in question, apparently 1 fuzzy picture should be enough. If only Google Reverse Image search were *that* good! Even (the rarely offered) several pictures do not provide all the details about an item for sale. Stop being so lazy and key in the condition of the item, the size of the item, and anything other details that is sure to be a question to decide whether to purchase the item or not. (Bonus round - if people ask these questions in PM? Post the answers in the details to eliminate further questions).

The sellers can not be bothered to edit the original sale post - instead they spew new sale post after sale post with edits - none of the previous ones are marked “sold”. And while I’m on that topic - they do not bother to mark items sold - so their things continue to appear in other buyers searches. Please don’t ask me why Facebook is so slow - Facebook can’t keep up with the traffic of useless garbage that flows on their information highway - they are probably busy making money from their advertising to buy up more bandwidth and cloud storage to keep up with the ridiculous demand. Recycle people, recycle, it’s better for the earth (and my blood pressure).

They start the posts with - must sell today - or must pick up today - or some other impossible short notice that can’t possibly attract good buyers - only impulse buyers who are also likely to not show up and purchase the item. Yeah, that’s right - buyers aren’t serious about buying because the seller didn’t take the sale post seriously.

I probably shouldn’t start in on the rampant misspellings - I get an occasional use of incorrect homophones, hitting a numbers key instead of a letter - but surely running a spellcheck is worth the extra 2 seconds it takes so the item is sure to sell - it would just make the seller look so much more well capable of taking care of things?

They get really huffy if you try to offer (they are friendly, I swear!!!) suggestions on how to use the marketplace app - apparently they prefer to look dumb rather than have to admit they might be wrong or uninformed.

I’m sure I have more details to share about sellers on Facebook - but my point is this - why use an app - and not bother to learn how to use it? Claiming you don’t know how to do these things is no excuse for this ridiculous behavior. Imagine if you told the cops that the reason why you were speeding was because you never bothered to take drivers ed and don’t know what the signs mean?

For my friends who read this and think I am talking about them - I swear I am not - but I do want you to know it is my absolute pleasure to help with any snags you have - any problems. It's the only thing I do really well - and I like to make people happy. Honest, no other intentions or hard feelings coat my offers of help. I genuinely get distressed at your distress and only think of how I can help. If I've seem rude in the past - I want to right now tell you that I am very sorry that you felt that way - it was never my intention to be rude - only short and simple - to make sense. After all look how long this blog is - I know of my undesirable trait to write/talk too much. I've been around the earth a few turns - I got this, ok? 

Yeah, right. You are always right...

Once again, I find myself in the infuriating position of defending myself only to find out it doesn't matter - I should never talk to a customer like that. 

How long must I continue to endure everything from incredible acts of rampant discrimination, "I need to speak to a technician not you"  to the more subtle ones - where I'm held to a different standard and if I once let that standard slip...Oh, boy...

I am not alone, yet, I am alone. So many women go through this but really the public, the majority (the white men) are still not accepting or acknowledging this. Oh, I know it's not all the men out there. Sometimes, it's even women!!! But there are far too many white men in power to ever let this situation change. Let me share a few articles with you:

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/04/why-is-silicon-valley-so-awful-to-women/517788/

"...described a kind of gaslighting: They find themselves in enviably modern workspaces, surrounded by right-thinking colleagues and much talk of meritocracy, yet feel disparaged in ways that are hard to articulate, let alone prove."

https://medium.com/the-mission/i-thought-discrimination-against-women-in-tech-was-bull-shit-then-it-happened-to-my-wife-c4cf434e72bd

"The real reason we’re a long way from solving the problem of discrimination against women in tech is many men like me don’t want to believe it’s happening." 

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/08/style/ellen-pao-gender-discrimination-silicon-valley-reset.html

"In written evaluations and performance reviews Ms. Pao was given high ratings, yet she was passed over for a senior-level promotion. She was criticized both for being too passive but also too pushy; for not speaking up enough but also being too opinionated."

Been there...done that!

I wish I could read more articles like this. Instead, I find men commenting on articles about women being discriminated against — and what do they say? "The wage gap is a myth." Wow. Really. Is this the best you have? Discrimination exists — the reason why it’s so hard to prove is because of exactly what is said in these articles. 

I work at a large company that supports other large companies. You name the large company — we’ve done work for them. My first 2.5 years working for them was to go to new sites and “commission” equipment with the software. I was constantly humiliated by either my own fellow employees or the customer’s. All of which are male dominated — in mine, it’s because it’s technology, on the customer side, it’s because it’s logistics and warehouse. 

Long story shortened, it wasn’t working out and I wound up working on the Customer Support side. I loved it. Never have I worked with such a supporting group of men. I don’t know what I did right to get their respect and affection — but whatever it was — I actually don’t think I was doing anything different — you know? I refused to change who I am. 

(p.s. one of the reasons I am able to recognize all the bias is because I have experienced non-bias. When I joined  the USAF:   I knew nothing — I was a small town girl — just 18 years old. I was pushed, encouraged, coached, mentored and I don’t know what all else to do things I didn’t think I could do — in short, I was amazing. I loved my time in the service. I foolishly got out at 14 years because the man I married didn’t want to be a dependent spouse. How wrong I was to marry him.) 

Back to the story — now I get humiliated all the time on the phone and this is one area where most of the guys are not as supportive — they claim it’s because I don’t show enough confidence or that I’m just imagining it. It is what it is. 

So last week, I had taken all the abuse I was going to take — a manager of one of the sites I had been emailing to for support rebuked me for being “unprofessional”. 

I had said in a reply: “Lastname, I’ve given you my findings, I’ll have to ask SoftwareDeveloper tomorrow.” 

I addressed the guy by his last name because, yeah, he was getting on my nerves calling me by my last name, while calling my other co-worker by his first name. He also got on my nerves because he responded to a lengthy email I sent (my findings) within almost a minute after I sent it. No way did he read it. And he said, “Linden, like I told you…” so yeah, my response was curt — but I don’t know if it qualifies for a public tongue lashing from his manager. 

Not only did the manager send that email to all my co-workers, he added several people way, way, way above me. In short, he did not use the chain of command.  

I saw red — crimson vermillion carmine RED. I wrote back to the manager and the manager alone. I apologized to him and said I was sorry that he thought I was being unprofessional but that he had maybe read too much in my email. And that he didn’t know me well enough to know my intent. 

That should have been enough but the red curtain had not lifted. I also asked the manager if he had skipped management 101 while he was in college because surely they still teach that when you rebuke an employee — you don’t do it in front of their peers and you start with the persons manager not the director — several levels above. Then I went on to say that I felt his real problem was not that he didn’t know professional when he saw it, and not that he didn’t know how to manage but that he was personally upset because I am a woman.

It was a CLM, as my friend, Jerry used to say. Career limiting move. I didn’t not care at the time. Not only did I click the send button. But I decided as one last stab — I would forward my email to the director he sent his complaint to — and I said, “Oh, Whoops, I should have included you on this email — you’ll hear about it soon enough.” 

Needless to say, my boss talked to me — and for the most part he was in agreement that I was not imagining things — however — this customer was flaming angry at me now — and the director it was sent to was also flaming angry at me — how dare some pissant woman talk to him like that, right? He escalated it up to the CEO of the north America branch. 

I’m still waiting to hear what will happen next. 

Bear in mind there is a lot more to my own story — such as my inability to keep my temper in check may or may not stem from my diagnosed condition of PTSD and depression. That I had lost my most wonderful therapy dog this past April and I still couldn’t think about it without crying. My boss also knew this. 

Now here is the real kicker to the whole story. I can’t really prove any of that right? That maybe he was right and I was unprofessional, right? Well, just a few days prior — I had engaged with a huge, huge, huge customer (bigger than this one) and the issue was elusive. I finally decided to engage another co-worker because his expertise was in another area that I thought might need some digging at. When I called him — I put our customer on mute and then hold. I told him that the customer was getting anxious and annoyed with me and was joking around and saying “they hate me”. Well, 'chivalrously' he said, "I’ll cuss them out." And then gave me a demonstration. Pretty sure he used every swear word in the book. I laughed as he meant for me to laugh. And then I said, Ok time to talk. Only he didn’t hear me — and started giving me part 2 of his cussing out, except I had added him to the conference call and I was still on mute so I couldn’t interrupt him to stop him from the crazy talk. I tried to hang up on the customer put them back on hold anything…too late. They said nothing. They acted like it didn’t happen. I wasn’t even sure if they heard. But they heard. They called his boss — his boss called him that night. And gave him whatfor and told him we were idiots for playing around on the phone. Boss was right about that…:-) but nevertheless…

Here is my point. The customer did not escalate this to the CEO of the north America branch like my customer did with me. Oh, yes, sure rationalize all you want to — try to make sense of it — the truth is — I should not have sent that email if I wanted to keep my job and keep the customer; but I was 100% right. And it’s been like this since I left the Air Force. And that is one of the ways I know there is discrimination. Because I have something to which to compare this treatment. 

Not long ago, I was reading about another woman who underwent the same type of treatment. I cannot for the life of me think of her name — but she sued the company and lost. Listen to her story and it’s the same one. She was held to a different standard than the other men, and of course, the standard was so much higher she could not meet it. Just like I can’t. 

I’ve been working in technology since 1989 — since about 2009 — I have lost all interest in it and want nothing more than to get out of it — but the job market isn’t interested in a middle-aged woman with the only job skills that are current is in IT. 

Now I’m practically elderly by IT standards — I hit 58 in few days. I just long for the day I can collect SS and stop doing this. Gentlemen, Mission accomplished. You have proven I am not right for the job. Go figure…

Dear Wynne, I'm 30

Dear Wynne,

Why is it wrong for a 30-year-old to have a crush on a 15-year-old?

Signed,

30 going on 15

Dear 15,

Oh, absolutely it is wrong. The 30 year old is not ready for a relationship (friendship, dating, or sex) if the 30 year old is crushing on a 15 year old. I suggest the 30 year old work on developing maturity. There is no reason on this green earth a 30 year should have anything in common with a 15 year old - unless the 30 year old never bothered to grow up - or the 30 year old only bases a relationship on physical attributes. If it’s physical attributes - well, that’s all part of growing up and maturity - you’ll find out by about age 22-26 that it’s not all about the body - that a mind is something that can be sexy, too. In this day and age of ready information, this should not even be a question. But you are asking it which means you understand it's wrong. Leave the 15 year old alone.

Cordially,

Wynne