Undone

Growing up a geek girl, a girl who worked at gamestop for 7 years and trust me has heard all of the elitist crap in the world. (that video makes me cry) i am divided.

I have four older brothers. They are good people. They are good brothers. They shaped me to be the person I am today. More than they know. More than I have words to say. I dare say probably even more so than my parents. (no offense Mom and Dad) Because I was an awkward kid. I liked spending time with adults better than kids,because  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Kids are dicks usually! My peers were mean to me, and I didn’t really know how to fit in. I wanted to (I’ve always wanted to) but lacked the capabilities. So to me, growing up my brothers were, quite often, my only friends. They were my best friends. They were the popular kids (in my mind) that I desperately wanted approval from. Now, being that they were varying ages older than me from 4 years older up to 12 years older, they didn’t’ want to hang out with me. Who wants to hang out with their little sister (ask yourself that question, and you’ll get the same answer I did) no one. I got a lot of “Girls don’t like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” and “no one wants to play with a girl”, and “You’re no good at this” “girls can’t do that” (This and that being whatever I wanted to do….) I on occasion wonder if I ever legitimately WANTED to do the things they did (Video games, Boys toys, etc) or if I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to wear their hand me downs. Being the only girl, I didn’t want to be (excuse the irony) the odd man out.

Eventually I stopped listening to their stupid opinions. I would probably say they were just repeating what they heard at school, or were (in earnest) trying to get me to leave them alone. Not the smartest way, but whatever, who was smart at 9? Not me. I dug my heels in. I learned to play Magic: The Gathering. I stunk at it, but I played. They let me. We made up Table Top role playing games on our own, because my Dad thought D&D was for Satan worshipers. The first game I ever finished on my own was Final Fantasy 9. I got my very first job at Gamestop, after my first interview.

Before I continue about Gamestop, i’d like to say it wasn’t (and still isn’t) the shittiest place I’ve worked. Bear in mind the following stories are true, and are (slightly) embarrassing. A little to me, but mostly to Gamestop. The employees pretty much all have been sacked, and if not, I feel more sad for them because they Still work at Gamestop (Formerly Software ETC).

I was super excited to work there. I felt legit. Like I had finally proven my geekiness. I soon learned that I was hired because I had a Uterus. I mean that literally. My manager yelled “We have a Uterus now!” and it went down hill from there. Male customers would ask for a man to serve them, because I didn’t know what I was talking about. I was a 16 year old girl, but — didn’t that mean I was cooler than the other girls? Let me tell you, men did not see it that way. It wasn’t just the men either. Women who didn’t know what they were looking for in a gamestore, would also ask to speak to a man. Someone who knew more. I knew plenty. I had a damn good pedigree from playing games with my brothers. I played games from work, I read magazines, talked to everyone I knew about what they thought was best. Also Gamestop was turning more into sales instead of just being helpful. My stats weren’t great. I am frankly not a sales person. But at that point, 17 year old me could fix that. I was thin, I was a girl, I was RARE and FINE in a sea of desperate nerds, I had a commodity. I had a rockin’ figure. I wore skirts (not mini skirts, they were all relatively modest) I wore heels, I wore low cut shirts. My stats improved. I was never the best, but I stopped being the worst. I felt like I sold out. I enjoyed my co-workers. They were kind (usually, my manager was a beast) to me, these people were my friends. Not because they had to be, because they wanted to be. Through out my time at Gamestop, i worked with 21 different managers. That’s a lot in case you didn’t know. I worked there for 7 years and was promised no less than 15 times that I would be promoted. There was space. They hired from the outside. I trained my managers, and managers for new stores in our area. I worked in 8 different stores. I helped open new stores, i worked to cover shifts for employees in other stores. When people wanted shit to get done, I was there.

Looking back, i wish ( a lot) that I had turned my manager (several managers) in for sexual harassment. When i was 19, I had a manager refuse to let me go home while I was miscarrying. yeah he was a horrible person. I called every employee at that store. Every last one. No one could help me. That manager wanted to fire me. I felt really fortunate that a manager from another store took me under her wing. 28 year old me is a little ashamed that I sunk to shilling my body to get people to pay attention to me– I wouldn’t let my daughter do that when she was 17, so she better not even think it’s ok. People should appreciate you know what you’re talking about, and that if you don’t, you’ll get back up!

Now I have two little girls. I play MMO’s on the weekend. I have finished Borderlands 2. I made my husband a super cute crafty Yoshi Quilt. We met because we were both internet nerds, and he sent me an email. I have a wardrobe that consists largely of Doctor Who tee shirts. I dressed as InuYasha for Halloween one year. I still own the jacket. My kids are named after Anime characters (SHHHHHHH). I teach my kids that baseball isn’t just for boys, and boys can like My little pony just like they do.  My Gender doesn’t tell me what I like and what I don’t. Bugs aren’t scary because I’m a girl. They’re scary because I hate things touching me. That includes people. (people usually ask though, bugs don’t so much.) I like to create with sewing and knitting because those are mediums that I know how to use. My brothers can draw (amazingly, like they should be comic book artists, the lot of them) I can tell an amazing story. None of these things are because of our gender. Our differences come because we’re people. If we could just have some basic human decency towards each other, the world would be so much better! But instead we going around devaluing and comparing things and people. “they aren’t good people because they aren’t Christian enough” What the heck, really? And as Kevin Smith says, only a nerd would stand in a Star Trek Costume and point at someone who is dressed like a Wookie and say “What a fuckin’ moron.” Seriously. I prefer Star Trek. That doesn’t mean That I think Star Wars geeks aren’t REAL geeks. And I don’t know  EVERYTHING about Star Trek, but that doesn’t mean I don’t (and haven’t) enjoyed watching it. It may mean that I am not as into it as you are, because trust me, those costumes would look terrible on me. *shakes head* anyway. Don’t take something that should bring you together with another human being, and use it as a wedge to separate you. Find your commonality. Find your humanity.

And Don’t be a Dick.

Derringer Meryl [I like Anime too] Out

I work in a predominantly male department, in a predominantly male field. pretty average I’d say. I work in a technological field, and I code shit all day. (pardon my french)

I work with a great team. THey are funny, they laugh at my jokes, I laugh at theirs, and I”m a pretty flippin’ easy going person. I don’t like to ruffle feathers which can cause problems for me in the long run. There is a balance of “Where is the line here” and people won’t know where the line is unless I say something.  Then again there is the problem of not wanting to be the ever loving whiney little sister that I see myself as. Because, despite being nearly 30 and having two kids and being married for the better part of a decade, I still see myself as the tattler who cries when her older brother says something mean to her. The sensitive soul, or some other BS like that. The squeaky wheel. I’ve fought against my “little sister” tendencies my entire life. I want to be unruffled, and cool. When really I”m silently seething trying to think of a clever quip to toss back at someone who has just said scathingly in my direction. I’m getting better at it, but I am not sure if it’s a talent I should really be honing into a fine skill at this point in my life. Teenager me is jealous that I can toss back verbal barbs the way I do. (Like when I told my boss he was full of crap today.)

Which sounds kind of risky, right? I am a fairly unskilled worker. I am smart. I work hard, I apply myself, but I am not …. certified or anything in anything. SO, yeah. Not a great Idea tell your boss he’s full of crap. On the other hand, my boss is really cool, and knew I was teasing. Like when he told me (and one of my co-workers) to “not worry our pretty little heads” about something.

So the little sister in me is seething. That is only ONE of the vaguely anti-feminist things that was thrown my way… since entering the workforce frankly. It’s not this boss, it’s not even because he’s a white middle aged man. Honestly, I know he thinks it’s funny, it’s like an ironic hipster funny, and if I was truly offended (and yes, you can truly offend me, by talking crap about my mom usually. That’s the one place you just don’t go, Moms are untouchable IMO) I would take it to HR. In a year I won’t care. In a week I won’t care. Because I know (in my heart) that my boss doesn’t mean it. He thinks that I (and my co-worker he said it to as well) are brilliant. He knows that the department wouldn’t function without us (or our Female boss too!)

I’ve had issues being a girl. I was a pretty hard core tomboy for a while. I didn’t want to do lace and dresses. I didn’t like having boobs for a long time (TMI? nah) I have had issues seeing myself as a person. Not because of any sort of gender identity issues (not that there is anything wrong with that.) but because why would I want to be a girl when I could be a boy, just like everyone else in my family? In a lot of ways, girls still get the short end of the stick. People think makin menstruation jokes, rape jokes, 1950’s get in the kitchen jokes, whatever, is cool. It’s not cool. Everything in my life all that I am, all that I will be, doesn’t boil down to me not having a penis. (though guys have it sweet with that peeing anywhere gig.) I’m not just an object in your house. A fixture. to be treated however you please. I am a person. I have thoughts, and feelings, emotions, opinions (that I pretty much always am loathe to express.) I like cats because they are easy going, I hate to clean, I suck at cooking (not for lack of my mom trying to help me learn) I like to quilt, I like watching TV (too much), I excelled at chemistry but sucked at math (all math) I love english. I want to write someday. Everything. I want to tell all of my stories that are stuck up in my head. I want my kids to be proud of who they are, and that doesn’t boil down to genitalia, chromosomes or what have you. You are so much more than that. I am married, to a freakin’ fantastic guy who sees me as his absolute equal. We complete each other. I am not better than him, he’s not better than me, we’re together. We’re standing together on the awards podium at the end.

So you might say that women aren’t as strong as men. And if you’re going to say a statement as broad and as undefined as that, some part of it is going to be true, but that doesn’t mean it’s universally true. Equally the opposite is true; men aren’t as strong as women. We aren’t meant to be the same people, gender notwithstanding. I am not meant to be the same as anyone else. I may be similar. We may look similar, have similar experiences, have hobbies in common, etc. Humans aren’t meant to be the same as each other in a broad scope. they’re meant to complete one another. To intertwine their capabilities to assist each other to propel each other to success.

I don’t care that I’m not the same as men, because I’m not the same as most women either. That’s ok with me. Honest to God, you don’t want me in the kitchen making you a pie, a sandwich, or any other treat, because it will be NASTY. I do walk around barefoot, but most of that time I’m NOT pregnant. I voice my opinion, because it has JUST as much weight as yours.

Don’t tell me I don’t deserve it, dont’ tell me to stay quiet. DO NOT TELL ME what I can and can’t do because I’m a woman. Don’t you even try. Because as soon as I hear it, the shit will have already hit the fan. You can’t unsay it, and I will spend the rest of my days proving you wrong. It’s already what I”m doing, I’ll just add you to the list.

Derringer Meryl [Anything you can do] Out

I am enjoying my new position at my job. Quite a bit, actually.

So that’s good.

I am feeling strangely unfulfilled. I feel like my brain is just lagging a bit behind, I’m trying (Desperately) to create. I want to be ingenious. I want to be amazing. I want to be fantastic. All I can do is try my best. I can’t be angry for giving it my best, right?

Geek and Sundry has a new writing segment. I might watch it and try to participate. Maybe that will help.

Derringer Meryl [Amazing skills] Out

That’s called victim shaming.

If I dress like I’m giving it away, that may not be a poor choice, but I’m not saying “hey guys, how about you rape me? sounds like fun.” Because there is a difference between rape and sex. Rape is a violation of a person’s right to say NO to sexual intercourse. A girl’s outfit may say “yes, please!” but she, herself, can still say “No thanks, I’ll pass” Because it doesn’t matter what my outfit says, it doesn’t matter if I say yes, and then I change my mind.

Now, do I think girls (including my own daughters asleep in the next room) should wear revealing clothes? no. Can I control what others do? Also no. I’m going to raise them the best I can. Good people get raped by people who have something in their head wrong with them, either at the moment, or permanently. Something that stops them from hearing the “no.” What if the person is physically incapable of saying no? or grasping the situation at hand (such as mental deficit or drugs) does that make it ok to rape them? Uh still NO. If I were, dressed scandalously, passed out in an ally in a bad part of town, that makes it “ok” for someone to violate my body? HOW ABOUT NOT. Maybe I’m not passed out, maybe I”m just stone cold drunk. Still not ok, why?

Because I”m not able to make that choice.

Now, I work with men, I live and I am married to a wonderful man, I had boyfriends before that, and had older brothers. You know how many of them ran around raping people? 0. WHY? Because they are people, not animals. They do not have the animalistic need to just screw whatever they see. It’s called rationale, it’s called the light of Christ, it’s called morality, and a convenience. To assume that men have NO control over themselves whatsoever is insulting to them. I think it’s MORE important to remember that those awesome boobs, and thighs, and hair and gorgeous face, whatever, are attached to a person. With a brain. She has parents, probably siblings, friends, a job, a home, bills, etc. The victim of rape isn’t a thing. They aren’t a number, just a statistic for the area that they live in. They are real. Everything about them, is real. People should think about it more. Don’t victim shame. If you looked closer, just a little, you might find that the people who you condemn for their clothes or their lifestyle are a bit more like you than you expected. 100% of rape victims, are people. Don’t dehumanize them.

I’m going to say it. It’s not something I normally shout out. It’s something that normally, at least from what i’ve noticed, is frowned on.

Abortion.

That being said, you may want to leave this thread. If you’re pregnant, I suggest leaving. If you want to have a rousing argument, you may want to go as well.

I’m not here to tout the wonderfulness of aborting a baby. I’m here to say that people should have a choice. I do not espouse promiscuity, or irresponsible choices or even killing babies. I love babies. You can ask anyone I know. I espouse the ability to make a choice legally, and the right to do so. It’s not a choice I normally would not make, but I cannot judge in the many various situations that people of the world may be in. I can tell you some facts that I’ve learned, through an unfortunate turn of personal experiences.

When I was 19, I got married. To my wonderful husband. We decided, shortly after I turned 20, to stop preventing conception and start actively trying to have a baby. After three months of trying, I got pregnant. I was RIDICULOUSLY excited. The moment I saw the words “Pregnant” on the little test I had purchased, I was SO excited. I don’t think, in all of the world, any woman could have been as excited as me. (Hyperbole maybe, but I was young, and pure and excited.) I got powerfully ill. VERY bad morning sickness. I threw up a lot. I remember at one point praying for God to stop the sickness. I would do anything. I don’t blame God for what happened next, but I felt foolish for the prayer I had said.  One day I came home early from work, and felt uneasy. Scott and I had an argument (I’m 100% about something stupid) and I was bleeding. it was faint, the nurse on the line when I called assured me that was normal. I felt panicked. I requested to go to the doctor. They got me an appointment. I had a blessing. I scheduled it for my anniversary (one year with my awesome Scott Husband! It should have been a great day!) We went to the doctor, he did an ultrasound. I remember getting teary at the Ultrasound. It was AMAZING. there was my tiny baby.  I could see it’s tiny nub arms, and it’s head. I was in love. I had, with my husband, made a little person. They were going to be my baby, and I would hold them forever in my arms. Moments later… I heard the saddest words ever, “Oh darn. There’s no heartbeat.” I was broken hearted. I felt my life shatter into a million pieces. I was presented with two options. I could wait for the baby to pass from my system naturally, or I could have a D&C. For you mormons out there, this isn’t Doctrine and Covenants. It’s Dilation and curettage. The doctor explained the procedure. I signed up for it. I went home, with the feeling for the next week with the sad feeling of knowing that I was carrying my baby inside of me. Knowing that every cramp, the pain in my back, was my body getting ready to expel it. My anniversary, to say the least, was ruined. It was really though, the last of my concerns.

I had to take work off, which of course meant that I was losing pay. I took a week off to recover. Not enough time. How much time do you take off for the loss of a child? I loved that baby. I wanted in my arms. I wanted to see it’s cute smiles, and watch it suck it’s thumb and coo and cry and HECK poo all over. I carry that baby in my heart. I assume it was a little boy. In my heart that’s what I’ve always seen. He would have been 7 this year.

The real blow to me, the innocent little 20 year old girl who was conservative in every way. Who saw the world in black and white, who loved her baby and could never EVER understand why a person would have an abortion. Got a bill in the mail. For the D&C she had to undergo, on which it stated I had an abortion. I wish I could have cried. I wish there had been tears left in me for it at that point. All was left was pain, and disbelief. Ever since then, I never wanted anyone to feel that shame. People will say, when I tell them this story “your baby was already gone.” What if it wasn’t that? What if my baby was alive, but was very ill, making it unable to live. Could you face the heartbreak of having to choose watching your baby die a painful death in your arms, or stopping the pain before they have to suffer? Should you judge people for making that choice? You cannot stand on the sidelines and watch people’s lives and assume you know where they are. By taking their choice away, you assume you know what’s best for them. Let people make their own choices, if it’s wrong in God’s eyes, God will judge them. You are not God, you cannot judge them as you are also imperfect.

I tell my kids, love those who hurt you. If someone is in pain, or hurting, or just different from you, don’t hate them. You don’t know them. Love them.  You don’t know their burdens, you don’t know their life or challenges they experience. It’s easy to look at a situation you’ve never been in and say “I’d never do that.” But you don’t know, until you’re there.

<3 I hope my experience brings some perspective for some people. A deep shade of depressing blue to your world of black and white. Not everything is as simple as it sounds.

Derringer Meryl [Once Upon a time…] Out