In Other News...

I had the day off on Friday, so I spent the entire day studying. I took one break to ride to Oceanside and have lunch with some old friends from my former position. It was a great break and well worth the ride! I lost one of my freeway pegs somewhere along the way, though... and I'm really hoping the stupid thing didn't damage someone's car on the way to wherever its final resting place my be.

In the course of studying, I realized that I hadn't downloaded some crucial manuals and policies to my thumbdrive!! For some reason, this simple oversight sent me into a tizzy of self-doubt and a fair amount of "test anxiety" that has previously been unknown in my academically blessed life. I've never worked in our Institutions, and because I failed to bring home the Administrative Manual specifically focused on this aspect of my Department, I knew at once I was going to be screwed on a good portion of the Supervisor's exam.

I asked a co-worker to try to email it - no dice. I planned to stop at one of our facilities on the way back from lunch in Oceanside, and stupidly forgot to disconnect the thumbdrive and bring it with me. By the end of the day, I had resigned myself to being truly average in this testing sortie because of my dumbass failure to think carefully about what I would need. Talk about a rookie mistake!!

So, I showed up for the test on Saturday and was amazed to find about 40 other testees. Oh, the pressure of competition! Not a good sign, considering my utter failure at studying.

The test: 100 questions, multiple choice, covering everything from work prioritization to administrative policy and procedure to our Union agreement to grammar and sentence structure. There were a few questions thrown in about our General Management System and strategic planning. They scheduled 2 and 1/2 hours for the exam, It took me 25 minutes to finish ( I was the first and I wonder if people thought I just gave up???). I'm a really fast reader, so it's not weird for me to be the first to finish in an exam situation.

In this promotion process, the application is worth 25% of the total ranking score and the exam is worth 75%. The exam is graded on the Bell Curve and a 70% on the curve is required to pass. Because I have less time in rank than many of the competitors and also have absolutely no Institutional experience, I knew that my only hope of being competitive in the ranking process would be to totally blow the curve. The first ten in the ranking get priority for interviews (this is the only purpose of the ranking - everyone enters the interviews on an "even keel," as the interviewers are only provided with a list of names, not the rankings or scores).

Well, you can guess how that turned out. *sigh*

Don't get me wrong... I think I did fine. I'm sure I scored at least an 85 and probably closer to 90-95%. I know for a fact that I missed at least two (I looked up the questions I could remember when I returned home from the materials I did have). Of course I have to second-guess myself and assume that I missed some questions that I don't know that I missed. Regardless, I know I passed the objective test with at least a passing score, which means I'll be fine on the curve.

Fine enough for priority ranking???? Geez, I hope so. If I don't promote from this round, it will likely be YEARS until there is another opportunity.

Two weeks before I receive results. If I passed, I will get a notice with my overall score (the combination of the app and the test), but not a notification of ranking. if I didn't pass, I'll receive a notice stating that I didn't pass, but they won't tell me my score. I figure I'll need at least a score of 95 to be priority ranked.

*sigh*

What's Wrong With Me?????????

I feel like I've lost my will to live. Not literally. I'm sitting here like a bump on a log when I have things to attend to. Lots of them. But I'm... not.

I should be studying for the Supervisor's Exam that I've been invited to take on Saturday. I'm not. In fact, I've read 5 out of about 200 sections I need to study. Not to mention that my only hope of being competitive in this thing is to totally blow the curve. So why am I not studying? Beats the hell out of me.

I should be anticipating the workday tomorrow: shuffling the myriad things I have to do in my head and visualizing solutions so I'm not blindsided by all the stuff that I can't really foresee when I already know what I must accomplish in 9 hours. I'm not. Every time I start, I just feel overwhelmed.

I should be doing a couple of loads of laundry tonight. I'm not. I go in the other room every once in a while, convinced I'm going to get started, and just can't bring myself to do it.

I should be finishing my gear inventory. I was so excited about having a proposal approved, and now it's just something else on the to-do list that's not getting done.

I should have been granted a transfer by now. 3 other people in my Unit have had transfers granted, all of whom put them in after I did. Now we're down three people, I'm not one of them, and my scope of responsibility now encomapsses three times the number of things I cannot control. Seems a bit futile.

I should be pulling myself up by my bootstraps and getting over this little pity party. I'm not.

What the hell is wrong with me???????????

Grrr.

Civil Wisdom - Learn It, Know It, Live It

WHY THE GUN IS CIVILIZED ~~By Maj. L. Caudill USMC (Ret)

Human beings only have two ways to deal with one another: reason and force. If you want me to do something for you, you have a choice of either convincing me via argument, or force me to do your bidding under threat of force. Every human interaction falls into one of those two categories, without exception. Reason or force, that's it.

In a truly moral and civilized society, people exclusively interact through persuasion. Force has no place as a valid method of social interaction, and the only thing that removes force from the menu is the personal firearm, as paradoxical as it may sound to some.

When I carry a gun, you cannot deal with me by force. You have to use reason and try to persuade me, because I have a way to negate your threat or employment of force. The gun is the only personal weapon that puts a 100-pound woman on equal footing with a 220-pound mugger, a 75-year old retiree on equal footing with a 19-year old gang banger, and a single gay guy on equal footing with a carload of drunk guys with baseball bats. The gun removes the disparity in physical strength, size, or numbers between a potential attacker and a defender.

There are plenty of people who consider the gun as the source of bad force equations. These are the people who think that we'd be more civilized if all guns were removed from society, because a firearm makes it easier for a [armed] mugger to do his job. That, of course, is only true if the mugger's potential victims are mostly disarmed either by choice or by legislative fiat--it has no validity when most of a mugger's potential marks are armed. People who argue for the banning of arms ask for automatic rule by the young, the strong, and the many, and that's the exact opposite of a civilized society. A mugger, even an armed one, can only make a successful living in a society where the state has granted him a force monopoly.

Then there's the argument that the gun makes confrontations lethal that otherwise would only result in injury. This argument is fallacious in several ways. Without guns involved, confrontations are won by the physically superior party inflicting overwhelming injury on the loser. People who think that fists, bats, sticks, or stones don't constitute lethal force watch too much TV, where people take beatings and come out of it with a bloody lip at worst. The fact that the gun makes lethal force easier works solely in favor of the weaker defender, not the stronger attacker. If both are armed, the field is level. The gun is the only weapon that's as lethal in the hands of an octogenarian as it is in the hands of a weight lifter. It simply wouldn't work as well as a force equalizer if it wasn't both lethal and easily employable.

When I carry a gun, I don't do so because I am looking for a fight, but because I'm looking to be left alone. The gun at my side means that I cannot be forced, only persuaded. I don't carry it because I'm afraid, but because it enables me to be unafraid. It doesn't limit the actions of those who would interact with me through reason, only the actions of those who would do so by force. It removes force from the equation...and that's why carrying a gun is a civilized act.

Today's Snarky Revelation

I hate my supervisor.

Previously, I just disliked her. She is ineffectual as a leader and will throw anyone under a bus faster than you can say "what the fuck??" if she thinks that person has the potential to expose her for the fraud she really is.

Previously, I learned not to respect her as either a person or a supervisor because she is inconsistent, flaky, punctuality-challenged, deceptive, and backstabbing.

Previously, I felt guilty for dsiliking her and being impatient with her because she's over 60 years old and it's like being mad at my grandmother, for Heaven's sake. I would forgive my grandmother episodes of selective memory and utter contradiction between what she says and what she does, right??

Previously, I was frustrated because she obviously has serious control issues but cannot seem to make the connection between actually being in the office and being able to control things. She can't very well control everything from home, right?? And if she's pissed off because I've taken over, well, maybe she should fucking show up every once in a while???? Because I'd really rather just do MY job and not hers, too.

Previously, I was amazed at her stubborn resistance to the changing nature of our jobs and her utter refusal to roll with the changes. I was confused by her reactions to me and my collateral duties, for which I operate under a different level of supervision and which seems to really torque her off.

Previously, I was only wishing I could get a speedy transfer, preferably to a Unit with a Supervisor who is an effective and visionary leader.

Now, I hate her. Now I can only beg for a transfer to another Unit - ANY fucking Unit!! - before someone gets hurt or I do something really stupid.

Today's snarky revelation: I have crossed the line.

Re-Posted from 9-11-06 - Nothing is Different, Not for Me

I made it through the day without ripping anyone's head off. It was damn close a couple of times.

I made it through the day without lecturing anyone about their constant complaints regarding the noise from Miramar. No matter how many times I tell people that all that noise is the sound of their fucking freedom, they never seem to get it.

I made it through the day without crying. Okay, that's a lie.

I made it through the day without sobbing hysterically in public. Quite a feat.

I made it through the day without screaming at my neighbors to get the fucking flags that they flew so proudly during the days after our National Tragedy out of whatever dusty bin they tossed them in once the shock had passed and fly them just as proudly now. This thing ain't over.

I made it through the day proud to have served and contributed to our current state of readiness. I wished - like a million times before - that I could contribute more... now... again...

I made it through the day without wearing my disappointment in many of my fellow Americans on my face like a mask of contempt. Because if it had been MY decision, this would have been a one-day war. Sorry, civilians (who just happen to live where the terrorists live). Sucks to be you.

I made it through the day with a previously unknown shred of objectivity. In retrospect, it's a good thing that it wasn't me making that decision. Because the entire Middle East would have been a smoking hole in the Earth and we'd be having fallout lawsuits right and left.

But you know what? America would have forgotten about my rash decision and moved on. Three guesses how I know that... first two don't count.

Not Forgotten

>

Taking a Risk

Last night I dusted off a costume and performed publicly for the first time since I retired from professional Middle Eastern Dance about 5 years ago. It was a friend's dad's birthday party, and I thought it would be a nice "gift" to surprise him.

I packed up my costume, chose music and recorded a cd, checked that my little boombox was still in working order, and headed out with MSU for the party.

After everyone finished eating, it was time to change. As I pushed and prodded at various costuming elements, I realized I was shaking! I haven't been nervous before a performance in, well, I don't know how long.

I also had forgotten many crucial things - bobby pins to secure my headpiece... safety pins to secure other various costume parts... waterproof makeup... dance slippers for my tender tootsies... and things that I would have packed in my bag without thinking "back when."

All of which made me want to call the whole thing off!!

MSU showed up in my changing room as I was attempting to get my finger cymbals on my shaking fingers. He asked, "What is UP with you??? You're shaking??!!!" I quickly related the list of "problems" and was strangely on the verge of tears. He kissed my forehead and said, "You're going to do just fine."

Sweet man.

He went out to start the music and I did my thing. I was tired by the end of the first song!! I had forgotten how much work this is, and boy, am I EVER out of shape!!!!!!!!!!

At the end of, in my opinion, probably my LAMEST performance ever, I rushed back into the changing room to shed the trappings of the most recent of my silly ideas. Looking in the mirror, I found that my headpiece was indeed askew and partially covering one eye... my vest had become unsecured on one side and was looking pretty ghetto... I was sweating like pig and my eye makeup had run down one side of my face (conveniently camoflaged by my errant headdress)... somewhere along the line I had lost my dagger (now THERE'S a safety issue!)... and I was horrified to realize that people had been taking PICTURES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BUT... John said I did very well (and he would know, having been subjected to years and years of Middle Eastern dance performances) despite the fact that I felt VERY out of practice and sloppy... several of the ladies present asked if a group could get together for some informal classes... and the birthday boy seemed very appreciative.

So, as risks go, this experience was inconclusive given the differences in opinion. I'm glad I did it, but also probably won't go rushing to take any more "gigs" or make a decision to "come out of retirement" anytime soon!

I do hope, however, that the ladies who approached me decide to actually get together for some "girl nights" and belly dance lessons - my favorite part of the dance has always been watching women fall in love with their bodies again and realizing how strong they really are. Some wine, snacks, and shimmying flesh sounds like a good time to me!!!

A Requested "Definition of Marriage"

So, here's yet another opportunity for me to be unpopular. I've been asked to define "marriage."

Understand, before I even start, that I grew up in a non-traditional religion; or rather, I grew up in a traditional religion that didn't make the trans-Atlantic voyage with some of my "other" ancestors. I was taught to respect all paths to Godhead, and part of that teaching stems from the fact that some who bore my name before me stayed in the British Isles and some came here to avoid religious persecution of their Puritan beliefs. Those Puritan ancestors burned part of their own heritage with the "witches" (read midwives and healers) they accused during The Burning Times.

So I am personally unaffected by Judeo-Christian dogmas, though they are incorporated into my life by American society and by my husband's Catholic upbringing. I am stuck in the middle between the ancient and humanistic belief that I am NOT seperate from Deity and the rules of this society that stem primarily from years of religious teaching that separates the Human from the Divine.

And I think I've done really well in being fair about the whole thing.

Marriage, at its heart, is a business contract. People can - and do! - love each other passionately and for life without ever committing to the contract that is marriage. Marriage means that I am willing and able to give you my love, my trust, and my body... but it also means that I am willing to give you my paycheck, my medical benefits, the care of my children, and co-ownership of my property. It also means that I am willing to take on my spouse's responsibilities as my own and willing to share the burden of poor decision making when it comes down to a legal matter. In my opinion, marriage has nothing whatsoever to do with Love. Marriage is a partnership. It is a matter of mutual respect.

Love is something else. Something seperate and distinct. For some nonsensical reason we have incorporated this emotion with sense but no reference into a list of prerequisites for a business contract, knowing full well that the concept, by it's very definition, is wholly subjective and in general a poor state to make lifetime decisions in. But that's the "rule," so we go with it.

So, MSU and I met, each of us coming out of previous marriages wherein many life lessons were learned. In mine, I learned that "faithfulness" is an empty concept and an unreasonable expectation. I also learned that Love does NOT conquer all. Mostly, I learned that it's really, really important to come to the long-term relationship table with a comprehensive list of what the expectations are - because "vowing" to "love, honor, and cherish" becomes a relative set of terms pretty quickly.

In his, he learned the same. But his Catholic upbringing and ingrained sense of guilt did not allow him to realize the basic humanity of his decisions or those of his ex-wife. In this sense, he was unable to take the lessons of his first marriage to heart.

So, we decided that we loved one another. We co-habitated (under extrememly secretive circumstances, which may be discussed in a later blog) and found that we were effective living partners. We came to the conclusion that marriage - a formalized contract of the in-place living system - was the next step. Which, for me, was a huge decision to have to make at age 22. He had children from his previous marriage. He had an egregiously bitter ex-wife that was ALWAYS going to be in the picture re: the children. Neither of us had any money.

So, I asked for a compromise. We would marry in the normal legal contract sort of way, and then we would Handfast. Much to the chagrin of his parents, MSU agreed. And I advised MSU that I would not take "traditional" marriage vows, as it was my belief and my experience that they are empty promises - with no real meaning - and that the expectation to make promises that most human beings - flawed, biologically driven, animalistic human beings - can't possibly hope to keep "forever and ever, Amen" was an unecessary social control that I refused to take into my marriage bed. I asked MSU to only make promises in our Handfasting that he was SURE he was willing and able to keep, and I swore I would do the same.

If you've read the entirety of my blog, you'll see that this is where MSU went wrong in more than one sense of the word. For him, it wasn't really "marriage" unless he made a bunch of promises that he didn't know at the time if he'd be able to keep. I, again, blame this on his dogmatic upbringing. I asked for "realistic." I asked for "humanly possible." I asked for very little, in fact, because a promise is a PROMISE and I expect them to be kept. He felt that the marriage itself had no validity unless he swore to a perfection that is not humanly possible.

He promised "undying faithfulness." He promised "no others before you." He promised to "protect your interests as my own." He promised "I will love you and no one else until the day I die."

Very sweet, indeed. But words only, yes?

I promised "to love you." I promised to "care for your children as my own and incorporate your family into mine." I promised to "allow you the freedom to chase your dreams." I promised to "never decieve you and trust you to know the truth." I promised that "our family and our interests will always be my first priority." I promised to "honor your feelings, understand your beliefs, and earn your respect."

Not so romantic, I'll freely admit.

And despite what anyone may think given some of my actions, I have never broken a single one of these promises. MSU has broken every single one of his - and many more that came after. Do I love him less? Of course not. I continue to encourage him to be honest with himself, understand his limitations, and be gentle with himself in his own expectations.

With our agreements and promises in place, we completed our handfasting ritual with this ancient passage:

"Beloved, I seek to know of you; and ask that I be given the wisdom to see you as you are, and to love you as a Mystery. I will take joy in you; I delight in the taste of you.

You are to me the whispering of the tides, the seduction of summer's heat. You are my friend, my lover.

Grow old and wise with me! - a life before us of rainbows and sunsets... and a willingness to share sanity and sadness.

I love you."

That passage alone incorporates my "definition of marriage."

The Inertia of Hopelessness and the Emotional Supernova

I am reminded by a friend's recent blog topic that some people will do whatever it takes to facilitate change. And when the prevalent emotional weather is hopelessness, sometimes the inertia is too much to bear. Decisions made in these circumstances typically do not make much sense to those who lead dynamic lives.

It's well known among my family and circle of friends that I have a self-destructive tendancy to (let me quote my husband) "blow things up" when change is necessary but seemingly impossible. It's not difficult to conclude that this tendancy - which I am well aware of and have tried hard to overcome - gets me in trouble quite often.

So, there's a primal part of me that truly understands when I hear about other people suddenly "going off line." I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, and done the talk show circuit. Sometimes the consequences have promoted growth, sometimes they have only hurt people needlessly and fostered more inclimate emotional weather. But the common denominator in all of these little life supernovas was CHANGE. Irrevocable, kinetically-charged change.

And that kind of change forces people to take their lives in a new direction. Not just that ONE person, but all of the people involved. It forces people to look at their lives honestly, to face their demons, and to decide what it is they truly WANT. It forces people out of that static inertia and into dynamic, reactionary decision-making. It forces people who have long been choosing NOT to chose to finally make a fundamental stand for what they believe is right, and true, and REAL.

Of course, sometimes there are innocent victims, too. Emotional supernovas do not care what is in their path.

I'm not stating that this should be the preferred way to battle inertia in relationships. I'm only stating that sometimes it feels - to me, anyway - like there is no other way. It is often said that "necessity is the mother of invention," but it seems to me that the old adage is hugely understated. Desperation is the mother of invention. And its conception is inertia.

I'm also not making excuses for my own behavior, which has been in some cases reprehensible and largely hurtful. Hindsight is 20/20, and I can honestly say in hindsight that there has always been a "better" way to resolve the pressure of inertia. But I can also honestly say that there was never a FASTER way, never a more EFFECTIVE way, and certainly no other obvious way to facilitate the deep and lasting change that was clearly necessary at the time.

As the supernova of a star resolves the inertia of mass suddenly too great to be contained, so does the emotional supernova resolve the inertia of pressure suddenly too great to be endured.

To the naked eye, the the change is not detectable - from our little telescopes in the living room, there is no way to tell that the large star you see has suddenly begun fusing iron and will instantly collapse upon itself into a mathematical point of mass that must burst forth in fiery, nuclear fury, obliterating everything in its path. The star self-destructs, but its destruction creates rare and precious elements (the gold you wear on your ring finger is created only by the supernova explosion as are many of the elements that make up your body) and re-creates the space around it into something completely new. Thus the emotional supernova - though thankfully rare - is a fascinating and sickly wondrous event to witness from the outside.

But inside, it is a sweet release.

Again, no excuses. I don't advocate the emotional supernova because there IS NO GOING BACK, and that eventuality is too much for most people to bear. But I have to say that when I stand here in the safety of my oft-recreated life and witness others who suddenly "go offline," I understand the inertia that is the impetus for self-annihiliation. These are people who no longer chose to live with the pressure of contained mass. These are people who have chosen to embrace the obliteration of all that IS for the hope of what WILL BE. Because, whatever it is, it won't ever be the same.

Update

I didn't kill the Widow. She's just doin' what she does, right? After all, we all need to eat.

I'm still really mad at her, though.

And I did tear down the Orb-Weaver's web. It was the least I could do.