Wait a minute wait a minute

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


Something Amazing

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

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I, nor anyone else, is responsible for your actions

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.


Something controversial I support

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.


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


My life right now

I work a desk job.


Yeah. I mean I’m not at a desk all the time. Sometimes there are meetings, and often i’m running around doing stuff. Maybe a better description is that it’s a Computer Job. It involves many computers. AND THE INTERNET. I do love me some internet. If the internet was a person, I would marry it. I suppose that’s why I married Scott 😉  (Among other really great and awesome things about him) I love computers, I’m pretty good at typing. and I love the internet.

These things, all of them, do not love me. I wear a brace, and apparently I need a better one, because my wrist is in agony pretty much 24/7 now. Last time I went to the doctor for my wrist, they jokingly told me to just quit my job.

I wonder, idly of course, if a doctor was losing their voice frequently, or was having difficulty remembering tasks for their job, or for some reason or another was losing the ability physically to do their job if their advice to themselves is to just quit? I mean… I NEEDS MY INCOME! I don’t work, for all intents and purposes, for FUN. If I did work, just for fun, i would quit if it was detrimental to my health. But I’ll work at a computer until my hands are all curled up, and I need massive surgery.

Which I won’t have, because… aint nobody got time for that! I’m taking two days off in a row for Katie’s Surgery, and it is the first time I have taken time off for NOT an emergency “I am sick” stuff. I pretty much muddle through whatever.

Gonna go back to sleep. YAY!

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