Tis the season…

Ah Christmas, my favorite time of year.  Usually around Thanksgiving weekend I seclude myself to my kitchen and start churning out hundreds of my Grandmother’s sugar cookies which truly are better than sex, and I happen to be the only one of my relatives who bothered to get her recipe before she passed away, so I’ll be darned if I’m gonna share that secret!  Anyway, I usually re-emerge around this time in December with dozens of flat-rate boxes filled to the brim with about 100lbs of sugar and butter mixed into sweet ecstasy and cut into cute tree and snowman shapes.  To me this is what the holiday season is all about.

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But to mini-me it’s about wrapping gifts, giving gifts, unwrapping gifts, extra time playing with her cousins, singing carols, hanging lights and most of all this guy and all of the magic that goes along with him:

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Which I guess is almost the same thing since it all boils down to a few traditions, and doing nice things for the people we love.  I’m not a religious person, so for me holidays are about family, but not everyone in my life feels the same.

Working backwards through my week of festivities (not really, I’ve mostly just been working), today I was talking to an old friend who also loudly proclaims to be an Atheist (more on that later).  She was telling me how she chooses not to celebrate anything during this time of year because it’s all about prophets and gods and other made up magical beings, but at the same time she doesn’t want to exclude her toddler from the fun and experiences his friends all get to have.  Quite a conundrum I suppose.  So she took him to see Santa, but has had trouble getting invited to any holiday parties or get-togethers and had to resort to telling her friends that she would be willing to drop her son off and pick him up later if the trouble was people being uncomfortable with the subjects she likes to bring up around this time of year…  As it turns out she was right, nobody likes it if you take a fun holiday and use it as a stand to shove your beliefs (or lack there of) down everyone’s throat.

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Imagine that…

Now since I have had a very interesting couple of months this sparked a little thought in the back of my mind..

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See for the last few months I’ve been spending a great deal of time around foreign nationals, mostly Egyptians and Afghans with the occasional Pakistani thrown into the mix.  Now as you would probably expect each and every one of them has been Muslim, and during our time together I have been sure to never turn down an invitation to any of their parties (that would be super rude in their culture).  So as a result I have celebrated Eid with them, I’ve celebrated Thanksgiving with them, I’ve celebrated a couple holidays that I have no idea what they were, AND I’ve now celebrated Christmas with them, and you know what?  It’s been a fricking blast!  Seriously, there’s been nothing but good food and kind people surrounding themselves with friends, family, coworkers, and anybody else who wants to come.  They really go all out and without even a single thought as to how whatever holiday fits into their actual religion or culture or whatever…

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But then, one of my friends (sigh, actually a relative, so I can’t just delete him..) decided it would be festive to post this on Facebook:

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It came along with a long and completely ignorant tirade about how Islam caused 9/11 and Christianity causes bunions in small children, and the world would clearly be a better place if we were all just fanatical Atheists…

So this is about where my little idea just about bubbled over and I decided that I hate everyone.

I hate the Anti-theists (more on that later) for telling me I’m a dick if I like the holidays.

I hate the Christians for telling me to think of Jesus while I’m downing that entire bottle of wine.

I hate the Jews because none of my Jewish friends ever have anything to say about this time of year, they just quietly mind their own business.

I hate the Muslims for making me fat.

I hate the Wiccans for reminding me that trees and Santa don’t make any goddamned sense.

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Okay, but in all seriousness, it really did get me thinking.  Now I would probably consider myself an Atheist, because I don’t believe in God, that’s not to say that I don’t have any beliefs though, because I do.  But my beliefs are based off of some things I experienced once upon a time when I was very close to death, and while I don’t like to talk about it much since it’s extremely personal, God and most of the things found in religion were not a part of it.  But at the same time I’m almost embarrassed to call myself an Atheist BECAUSE of people whom I really categorize as being Anti-theists.  I’m sure you know the kind of person I’m talking about here too.  See to me a-theism, is the absence of religious beliefs, whereas anti-theism is being against religion as a whole.  Two very different ideas which both tend to be lumped under the umbrella of Atheism.  So I guess, all I really want to say is:

1.  To all the Anti-theists out there calling yourself Atheists, you’re just a bunch of ridiculous assholes just like the religious extremists that you like to cite as proof that your beliefs are better than anyone else’s.  So stop ruining things for the rest of us.

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2.  There’s so much prejudice against Islam in Western culture these days, but really, they’re the only ones I can stand during this time of year because they’re the only ones not getting all hung up on intolerance and bullshit.  I think we could all stand to learn a thing or two here..

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Oh the joys….

If I were to judge the various stages in my life by the evolution of my fashion sense alone, then I would probably say that it has been an unusual ride fraught with bad decisions and at times far too much beer…. Not the least of these stages was the role which booty shorts with ass-words have played in my life….

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You see I would describe my evolution in booty-short terms as having gone somewhat like this:

Teenager (look at me, look at me, are you looking at me?) = Must wear all the time…

Early 20s (I want you to look at me, but I don’t want you to know that I want you to look at me, because that’s far too blatantly egotistical, though I AM pretty amazing) = Wear at the gym, or beach, or other super casually dressed activities where it won’t seem out of place, but not ALL the time..

Mid 20s (Oh? A guy was looking at me? I didn’t notice, I was too busy thinking about writing those memos… Oh, and he was really cute too? Well maybe if I run into him again and he doesn’t seem super creepy then I could pencil him in…. Nah, who am I kidding, there’s no way I’d ever take time away from my work for some dude, where’s the point in that?) = Wear only when lounging around the house while sharing a tub of frozen yogurt with my cat…

Late 20s (Yippy skippy, I knew it was worth not eating lunch today because we totally get to go home before 7pm, what do you want for dinner? Mac and cheese with broccoli and ketchup on it? WTH why not, that sounds amazing since I haven’t had time to eat since dinner time yesterday because I’d rather be hungry then miss the 800th screening of the Muppet movie…) = Completely forget that I even own booty-shorts with words printed on them until my toddler is poking me in the butt and trying to sound out the letters, but hey screw it, at least my kid is going to be reading before pre-school….

Roommates… FML… Is murder still illegal?

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So, one of my friends was supposed to deploy recently but ended up needing a waiver which of course was not obtained in a timely manner.  But of course it wasn’t until after he had already gotten rid of his house, packed all of his worldly belongings into storage, and was standing in line for the rotator that they bothered to inform him that he wasn’t going.  Naturally, this meant that the guy was now homeless, and largely friendless since most of his friends (other than me) were on the deployment with him….  So knowing that I’m occasionally a nice person who also happens to have a badass 3000 sq foot house that I share only with my daughter and her cat, guess who he calls in the middle of the night looking for a couch to crash on??  Yep, well as much as I value my solitude I’m not one to leave a soldier hanging so I think to myself, “what the heck?  It’ll only be a couple of days..”

Ugh, yeah, so here we are almost a week later and I have come to the conclusion that:

1.  I am quite thoroughly attached to my bachelorhood/hermit-ism…

2.  Having to wear clothes on the weekends blows…

3.  It really annoys me when people clean out my fridge no matter how nice the thought was behind it…

Yep, so the first problem I’ve encountered with this situation is that I can no longer just sit around in my underwear playing Skyrim on Saturday mornings which I did not previously realize is truly vital to my lifeblood and overall mental well being….  Also, I hate pants…

Plus the guy has no other friends in America right now which is really killing my groove because he’s always wanting to hang out and do stuff and be clingy and s#it, and lets face it, nobody likes being someone’s ONLY friend…

Then I got up this morning to find that the guy had been thoughtful enough to clean my kitchen as well as clean out my fridge, but for some inexplicable reason he seemed to think that if something was some sort of dairy product that it must be expired…  Now I’m not going to lie there was a jug of old milk in there as well as one tub of yogurt that was probably pretty questionable..  BUT the dude literally threw out half my groceries that I just bought on payday, including an ENTIRE tub of margarine that I had just opened 2 days ago.  Now fortunately for him about as emotionally available as a boulder, so rather than unleashing the unfathomable rage that was boiling up inside of me when I realized that I was going to be eating dry toast with black coffee for breakfast, I calmly informed him that while I appreciated his efforts he had in fact thrown out most of the groceries that I was planning on lasting me until next payday, he apologized, and I left feeling unsatisfied… 

Perhaps I’ll take my .30-06 out to the range this weekend, shooting things also helps preserve my sanity, though things will be much better once the zombie apocalypse comes and I can just shoot peop… er… zombies at will….

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In case you like rubbing icy hot on your……

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As I’ve recently discovered, these condoms, are effing terrible….  That is of course unless you and your partner enjoy rubbing tiger balm on your privates, in which case have at it, I’m not one to judge…  But in all seriousness guys, don’t use these, they’re possibly one of the worst things I’ve experienced in my life.  In fact I’m pretty sure these were invented by some pot head at the Trojan company as some kind of a sick joke….  Though they did succeed in preventing me from being impregnated, largely because the horrible burning sensation made sex impossible after ten minutes, but still, no little mes running around is probably a great thing for the future of humanity… 

Why females?

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The other day one of the NCOs in my unit was complaining about how his wife can’t seem to get promoted, he insisted that it’s due entirely to rampant sexism in the Army, that women will never be able to move up as easily as their male counterparts simply due to prejudices against their gender.  As proof of this phenomenon he cited the severe lack of a large number of females in senior leadership.  As a female service member myself, it may surprise you that the whole time he was talking I wanted to gag.  While it is in fact true that not very many females can move up as fast as their penis wielding counterparts, I also can’t help but notice that most females also really suck ass as NCOs.  In fact there’s very very few females that I have encountered over the last 6 years of my life that I truly wanted to see obtain a higher position.  I have however had female senior NCOs make up 9th grade-esque rumors about me for no apparent reason, I’ve had them tell me they’ll support me through a difficult situation only to stab me in the back or leave me hanging when it was time for them to step up, and I’ve had them outright try to fuck over my career because it became obvious that I could easily surpass them in rank.  Frankly, I would say the majority of female service members are quite simply so focused on their own bullshit and drama that they have no business getting promoted anyway.  So, if you’re a female at any stage of your career in the military here’s my advice to you:

1.  Your subordinates are not your children, every NCO anywhere that says she’s like a mom to her soldiers is a fucking terrible leader.  Trust me, they are fully capable of thinking for themselves and knowing their own limits, if they trust you they will come to you with their problems without you needing to micro-manage them, and if they don’t trust you it’s 100% your own fault.  Treat people like they’re adults for fucks sake.

2.  If you have a female soldier who’s simply better at shit than you are, it’s okay.  Let her be good, push her to reach her potential.  Don’t get fucking jealous or try to keep her down because you know she has her shit together more than you do.  If you don’t like it, instead of being caddy, maybe spend time fixing your own shit, or just accept that some people are more talented at being in the military than others and that’s 100% okay! 

3.  Get a handle on your feelings.  It may be in your nature to be sensitive or to think about things through emotional goggles.  But if you want to get anywhere you really need to learn how to shut it off, don’t respond emotionally to situations, if you need to take a minute before you respond to something shitty then so be it.  But whenever you do come at it you need to be coming from a place of logic, people respond better when you can explain your position from a point of solid facts and concerns not emotions which could very well be wrong.

4.  Stop thinking of yourself as different from a male.  When I put that uniform on in the morning I no longer see in gender, color, or creed.  I only see soldiers who are no different than I am.  I never even notice that there are males and females, and you shouldn’t either.  If you tell yourself that you are different, then you will be treated differently.

5.  Stop shamming at PT, you better be working on getting that 300, and you’d better be able to pass that shit as well as a man, there’s no excuse not to.

6.  If you want to make a career out of the military, treat it like one.  Put in the extra time, be dedicated, give your life up to it.  Stop worrying about finding a husband and having kids.  The reality is you will never be able to be both a good NCO and a good wife, the demands of one cancel out the other.

7.  You are not a role-model for every other female, nor should you try to be.  Your aim should be to inspire everyone to do better regardless of their gender, which again, goes back to not viewing yourself as different.

8.  Stop fucking bitching, females complain 10,000x more than men do.  Suck it up already.

9.  This isn’t high-school, grow the fuck up already.

10.  Get your hands dirty.  If my soldiers are out pulling weeds and I’m supposed to be “supervising” them, guess what, I’m pulling fucking weeds too.  No one under me will do any task that I haven’t done myself.  Bottom line, experience what every single one of your soldiers goes through in a day at least once, and if you have the time, do it with them everyday.

Hello world!

Hello world indeed, a little about me and my blog here for your amusement…  I’m 25, female, with the mind of a dude (or so I’ve been told, I’m not gay or anything though), I’m a military careerist and awesome at it, I have a fucked up sense of humor, and I like to write things on the internet.  This blog is about my daily comings and goings and other random crap that pops into my head, some of it deep insights about the wonderful world of a profession of arms, some of it not so much.  Take it or leave it, but if you leave it you’re probably missing out….

And now here’s a picture of a baby panda, because I recently had a dream where I was trying to save a bunch of baby pandas during a Nazi invasion, no lies, I dreamed this…..

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