Undone

when Scott and I got married, we had CRAPPY jobs. I am not kidding you. I worked MW and he was on the fast track to make 20K a year. I”m sure there are people in this current environment that would be greatful for that kind of job. I don’t look down on them, except for: The crappy insurance we had.

Scott (my soul mate, my paramour, etc etc) became diabetic as a kid. His parents had great insurance (at least they did when I met him) and so they didn’t have to pay quite so out the butt on insurance. When we got married we didn’t have the option (as people do now) to stay on our parents (his parent’s insurance) insurance. In fact, I attended College for two semesters JUST to stay on my parent’s insurance. It was cheaper to pay for college than insurance, that’s saying something. Anyway… We had a humdinger of a first year being married. Luckily for us, I had pretty good insurance because I was a government contract worker. After having my miscarriage though, I was kind of sensitive (read: Depressed) and so I was having a hard time being around 30 (felt like 30) pregnant girls all the time at work. I went part time. I lost my insurance benefits! So we went onto scott’s. I don’t know if you’ve worked “fast food” or in the “Restaurant industry” but let me tell you this. You are replaceable, like a kleenex (TM) to them. His insurance didn’t cover my birth control, made us pay out the wazoo for his insulin and durable medical supplies. I feel really fortunate that we’ve worked ourselves to a place where that’s less the case but….

Did you know that medical insurance can deny filling a perscription if it hasnt’ been “long enough” since you got the last one? Diabetic (as I mentioned) So it will be the day before the MAGIC day when he can refill his LIFE GIVING medicine. It’s not like he’s trying to get amphetemines or oxycontin. It’s Insulin. It doesn’t get you high, it doesn’t make you loopy. If you took it and didn’t have diabetes (a medical need) you’d probably kill yourself. He’s not hawking it to people on the street. Not an insulin dealer. He made some interesting dietary choices, and now he essentially gets to go without eating for a day.

Prior to Obamacare (which I know SO many people I work with HATE it) I worried that Scott’s Employers would sneeze and get rid of him. It actually happened once. Scott got laid off, and we (he and I) were screwed. We were pretty fortunate to have some good friends, who worked for a great company who got him in the door, where he has for the past three years, worked his way back to his position with the previous company. Also, if Scott lost health care (and I wasn’t working) prior to obama care, he could be denied coverage. Citing pre existing condition. Well no duh dummies.

WE have built an industry out of MAKING and KEEPING people sick. It’s so much more profitable to not cure cancer, diabetes, aids, etc becuase those people will buy and buy and buy until they’re in the poor house (as if they weren’t there already) to stay alive. Isn’t that what everyone wants? to be alive, at the very least. Once we have that, we want to be healthy. People will pay and pay and pay to be healthy, Why wouldn’t we capitalize on that? Other than the despicable horribleness of the idea.

I know people, good people, Honest people, who think that it’s not a big deal to not balance out healthcare. Most of those people, i’d say, don’t know what it is really like to be sick. If they do– they must be seeing this from some drastically different perspective. I don’t think it’s the government’s responsibility to take care of me, or Scott (or my kids). I do think it is a nations responsibility to interfere when a great wrong is being done to it’s people, especially if being perpetrated BY it’s people.

Derringer Meryl [All over the place] Out

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 currently experiencing a unique crisis.

I feel that popular culture is an excellent mirror inwards to yourself, or can be if done well. In particular the things you’ve left unaccomplished.

You see: When I was a teenager I wanted to become an actress. I think a lot of kids did, it’s the in thing to do. As an adult I can see that my extreme social anxiety and lack of motivation to try harder would have been great stumbling blocks. Also, I’m a rubbish actress. I could have gotten better, but my parents wanted something else for me, and well… Who doesn’t want to please their parents?  Probably quite a few teenagers. I am the real world equivalent of “failure to launch” and I feel as though I am the latest of bloomers (which sounds odd). I am married, I have two wonderful kids

But, I don’t love me.

I have been feeling a discontentment rising within myself lately. I have this continuous loop of disapproval running through my head. That I’m broken, I’m weird, I’m a freak, that I should be ashamed. I’m not sure where all the negativity comes from. My parents were good parents, they love(d, now and then) me. I am the apple of their eye, and as my dad always says, his favorite daughter. Which is really easy when I”m the only one.

I have big dreams. I keep them locked and hidden away. I want to travel, I want to make something great, I want to be great, I want people to know who I am and I just want to stand out from the crowd a little. I don’t want to be the imaginary friend anymore. Which is what I call myself at work because despite being a trainer, and the first person that everyone in my department goes through to get hired, I am easily forgotten. I am desperately lonely.

I have been watching Doctor Who lately. It inspires me to think about my goals. How awesome would it be to write for TV? How awesome would it be to have someone read what I write, Period. Having someone read what I write and like it, it’s the ultimate high, for me anyway, the mormon girl who gets sick from taking too many tylenol.
(Sukie I promised less sadsack I know, but I can’t help how I’m feeling)

A friend of mine has a friend who used to write for Doctor Who. Which is amazing. I lack the confidence to even try writing much of anything. And as sad as it is, I admire Stephenie Meyer still because even though her writing isn’t like War and Peace or anything, I admire her for carving out time in her life for herself to accomplish something. I don’t feel like I deserve it. I think If I could find out why I hate myself so much it’d be the key to everything.

I’m the person who restarts her tetris game if one piece is out of place, I trash it and start over. It’s not perfect, and so it’s useless. Maybe that’s it. I’m not perfect, so I’m useless. What a horrible train of thought. Maybe I have a hard time remembering that God Loves me still or something. Or maybe it doesn’t matter who else in the flippin’ Universe does, because If I can’t find something awesome to love about me, it doesn’t really matter who else does.

Another friend of mine recently visited. She lives in Washington, which I still find more glamorous than my life. We were going to meet up. I thought about it a lot. and I just felt like “My house isn’t clean, and I’m up like 70+lbs since she saw me last, I think I’d rather die.” which once again, isn’t a great way to think. How much of my life am I going to let pass me by because I’m not perfect? Why am I so afraid to fail. Who is going to be mad at me? I will I suppose and that’s bad enough.

When I was in high school, I had a really great friend who asked me what I was doing after high school, and I said that I’d probably get married (I had no prospects of such in sight, despite having a VERY non-serious dating relationship with a guy.) and she was disappointing me in me for not wanting more for myself.  Maybe that’s just it. I’ll live a half life. A life full of mistakes and disappointments, for not taking what I could get. I had a teacher in college who thought all of my stuff should be prose, but I’m crap at prose (was and still am) I’m better at vignette’s for the imagery. Why can’t i ask myself to do more, go outside of the box, and dig deep and give MORE.

I’m a compare-r. I compare a lot. To the people around me, the people my age. What have I done with my life?
Maybe I’m thinking about it too hard. Maybe not hard enough. I just want people to remember me.

Derringer Meryl [Help] Out

I have been more burned out than I am now, FOR SURE, but I am kind of sick of everything.
Maybe If I were more mature things would be in line better. Maybe If I were more disciplined. I’m SO exhausted. I feel like every day is all running. wake up, run wake katie up, fight her to get dressed, go to work, fight to stay focused and get lots done, then fight home in traffic, fight to get the house clean, fight to get something done, fight the urge to roll into bed until the next day, fight the kids on getting in the bath, then fight them to get out, fight with them on how many stories they get, yes it’s time for bed, yes brush your teeth, yes jammies on, no you don’t get 3 stories, you get one for how much you’ve argued. Go to bed, stop kicking your sister. Once they SEEM to be to sleep I take time for myself while running laundry through.

Send the kids back to bed, then go to bed myself (like at 12-1 in the morning) and start all over.

Oh and don’t forget the calls during the day of “Did you get Katie to school? are you going to pick her up?” call and confirm the dentist, call and schedule the doctor.

Remind, remember, remind, remember. I feel like I have a shit-ton (excusez-moi for my french) that I’m doing, all the time. Every day at work is crunch, and HEY why don’t I heap more responsibilities onto what you do, but we won’t be giving you a raise for your increased responsibilities.

I do like doing what I’m doing, I just don’t feel like I’m fairly compensated for the time I’m levying into them. I wish I could find those FREAKING books. They’re like $2 books in quality, but I’m sure if we have to pay to replace them, they’ll be $30 each … GOSH.

I was talking with my boss the other day and I said I’d love to have copies of myself. One to be at work, one to be at home, and one to goof off (and we’d cycle through which of us got to do what each day), so we could all be balanced. I just… feel like I could use an extra set of hands. Someone to do the laundry while I’m trying to get the kids in bed. One person set on permanent “SEARCH FOR LOST STUFF” mode I guess. *sigh*
Somedays I feel like I’m the only person who cares. i’m one person running the lives of four. I’m exhausted.

Derringer Meryl [D-O-N-E] Out