What is wrong with the “Christian” world today?  And I use quotes because, quite frankly, I’m not sure how many “true Christians” there are out there…whatever a “true Christian” may be, that is.  Between the so-and-so “likes Let’s see how many true Christians are on FB! Press Like if Jesus is your Savior!! on ♥.” status updates on Facebook, to the Tweets of random scripture, to the clearly deranged Pastor in Florida who is hosting his own personal “International Burn The Qur’an Day” …somewhere along the line I really think the message got lost.

So, dispite pleadings from the White House, fellow Christians, and even the Pope’s disagreement with the whole thing, this guy, who is now carrying a pistol on his side due to all the death threats (standard issue to Pastors, I’m sure) is going ahead with his display to ”commemerate” the attacks on September 11th.  I get that the act, in its simplest form, is just burning some books, but we are not a simple animal.  We are supposedly intelligent, emotional, and complicated. 

Book burning has been historically used as a supression tool, usually religious, and always viewed as a dark time.  To most, books are pages and ink.  To some, they are powerful sources of knowledge, history, and/or culture, and sometimes even more.  To Muslims, the Qur’an is a sacred text.  Sacred.  Americans don’t hold much, if anything sacred, but other cultures do.  Cows, land, books…whatever it is, it’s cultural and important and no matter how silly we may view it, should be respected. 

This guy, this Pastor, this so-called Christian Pastor is promoting massive disrespect on a basic human level.  Beyond that, he’s displaying and promoting racism and hate.  How very Christian of him!  He’s lumping the entire religious and cultural section of the world which follows the Qur’an in with the individuals responsible for the attacks, calling them “of the devil” and “extremists.”  Well, doesn’t and act such as this make him an extremest himself?  He knows the ramifications of such an act.  And if he didn’t, he’s been told over and over what they are.  How does burning a couple hundred books, simply books in our culture but sacred texts in the Muslim world, commemorate anything?  So you built a fire…great.  Use some sticks instead.  Of course, your ignorance and fear displayed in by this act are also the source of suffering, both emotional and possibly physical.  All those who believe in the sacred text will be emotionally hurt by this act.  There will be anger, there will be hate…“Fear is the path to the dark side.  Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate.  Hate leads to suffering.”  Who is of the devil now?  And what could the ensuing anger and hate bring but physical harm to Americans?  It’s an outrage, and most likely will be responded to as such.  But I’m guessing any response from the Muslim community will only be viewed as justification for the act itself.  Such a fine Christian nation we are!

People like this only enforce my religious views, or lack thereof.  I am not an “athiest,” but I’m definately not of the Christian faith.  I won’t subscribe to any belief system or religion created by such a fallable and emotional and self-serving creature as man.  I don’t condemn those that do.  To each his or her own.  But please, PLEASE, stop with the hypocracy and narrow-mindedness!

This may be my last at-work written blog post for awhile, well at least this will be the last week I’m able to blog at work.  Not that I’ve been writing much lately anyway, but…

I’ve been ridiculously busy, with the ever impending wedding and the total lack of preparation on my part, with my multiple tasks with “yesterday,” or completely non-existent, deadlines, with a house that, 2 months after we moved in, is still in no way, shape, or form organized…or even completely unpacked, and with a new, short-ish notice transfer to a different department that I still haven’t gotten a straight answer on when it’s actually supposed to happen. 

While I am totally stoked about the transfer (it gives me multiple opportunities for learning new things, expanding my skill set, and therefore resume, and a promise of a pretty decent raise in the nearrrrrrr-ish future), I am not totally stoked about my office-mates’ reactions to my move.  Not everyone, mind you.  My actual friends are truly happy for me.  They share at least somewhat in my excitement, and at the very least support me in this whole thing.  My actual friends are, as always, wonderful.  But then there are those who I thought were my friends.  Silly me! 

Friend.  How do you define it?   Dictionary.com says:

Well, in regards to my current work-mates, 1 and 2 just go out the door.  3 is iffy on any given day.  4 is passable, and 5, well, let’s just leave 5 out of this.  In all honesty, I wouldn’t have previously called all of my work-mates “friends,” otherwise why would I refer to them as “work-mates?”  But I did previously call many of them friends, and those are the ones whose recent attitude, reaction, whatever is bothering me the most.  Are we really that far removed?  Is this comraderie that we share really that shallow?  Or is it simply petty immaturity?  Or maybe I’m being ridiculously oversensitive…NO!  That’s not even a possibility! 

Let me explain.  On-again-off-again friendships around here happen often.  Whatever.  It’s the nature of the beast.  But suddenly, coincidentally coinciding directly with the news of my move, I’m getting a severe case of the cold shoulders everywhere I turn.  There is no polite conversation.  There is no “how was your weekend.”  There isn’t even eye contact.  And I swear whenever I walk into a room, out to the smoke pit, towards an area where any group or individual is hovering, said group or individual scatters at my presence.  What the F is that about?  Really?  I’m going to a different office so now you have NOTHING to say to me?  We can’t be pseudo-friends?  You can’t even manage a polite “hello”?  I give up.

I’ve decided I’m past the point of caring…but really I’m not.  Not even a little.  It hurts, people.  These are people I’ve spend the most time with over the last 3 or so years.  These are the people I’ve had actual conversations with on a daily basis (til now).  Most of these people I thought I could depend on in a pinch, call if I was in trouble, reach out to for help…but yeah, apparently not so much.  I don’t make friends easily.  I don’t open up often.  I don’t trust many.  And for anyone that I consider a friend or that I open up to or trust, even a little, to suddenly, inexplicably just cut off all interaction…it feels like a punch to the gut.  And there are multiples of them. 

Ah, well…this too shall pass, right?  Moving on and moving up and all that other happy horse-shit.  No biggie.  I’m a big girl and I’ve lived through much worse in  my life than a few hurt feelings.  Hmmm…maybe there’s still time to save some money on the headcount for the wedding….

Some people feel they must, or rather, have a very real need it seems to butt in where they don’t belong or are not wanted, or both.  Why?  Here are a couple key hints: when someone says “that’s not what I was talking about” and then goes back to their conversation totally leaving you and your unwelcome comment our of it, back off!  When someone says “I’ve got this” while holding up their hand in the international sign for stop talking and go away, give some serious thought to doing just that.  If someone seems to be a perfectly functioning human being probably fully capable of accomplishing some inane duty or another, leave them alone and later, if warranted by some momentous mistake, you may revel in their inabilities and ignorance.  Silently.  In your own head.  All in all, if you find yourself spontaneously drawn to events or conversations without invitation halfway through the progression of said event or conversation and are not typically met with sighs of relief or expressions of joy at your mere presence, reconsider opening your mouth at all, except maybe to eat or drink.  All necessary communication can be effectively achieved with occasional head nodding.  Thanks.

What I’m wearing today: wide-leg dress pants, greyish-tan.  short-sleeve wrap shirt, tan and white striped. lace cami underneath, white. platform sandals, brown. 

This is how I like to dress for work.  Yes, sometimes it’s jeans and some simple top, but I prefer the above.  It may be a skirt, or simple dress (knee length, always)or even capris, but generally a little more dressed-up than down.  At home it’s generally jeans/shorts and t-shirts/tanks, so work is my opportunity to look nice.  I like to look nice.  I don’t go out, ever, so it’s not like I get to dress up any other time. 

Enter the creepy-guys…

Monday I wore a simple cotton sheath dress (Target: $12.98).  Yesterday it was a paisley-print sleeveless top with trouser jeans.  I don’t show much skin, at least I don’t think so.  I don’t wear my clothes that are way too tight, yet I get strange visits and leery looks.  It’s enough to make me want to stop bathing for a week and come to work in sweats!  (Reading this, I realize I may be coming off a little vain, but seriously, there are some creepyguys around my workplace!)  Monday (Target dress day) dude 1 came in to my office and sat with me for an hour, chatting, for no real reason.  We aren’t friends.  We aren’t even acquaintances.  He didn’t even have anything to say, really.  He just sat there and I forced conversation because that is slightly less creepy than him just sitting there.  Today, super-creepy dude 2, who doesn’t smoke, and has a broken foot or something so walks with a cane, slowly, painfully, followed me out to the smoking gazebo seemingly just to tell me how nice I looked Monday.  Oh, and how I always look nice, and nothing much else.  Yeah, nice, whatever.  But WTF, man! We are in a professional (ha!) working environment, and he’s following out of his way to express his feelings about my appearance?  Dude 2 has done this before, although not lately.  He once caught me coming out of the bathroom and had me cornered for about 10 minutes of serious discomfort on my part.  He has had similar run-ins (although more blatant) with other girls in the building, and has actually had a couple sexual-harassment complaints against him.  I guess that’s why he’s not so blatant, but still.  You think he’d get the idea.  Dude 1 has also pulled the randomly-sitting-near-me-and-being-weird routine before, but he’s a little socially inept and mostly harmless.

What makes men think that these things are ok?  I’ve experienced leering looks, wolf-whistles, and even drive-by kissy sounds out of passing car windows.  Seriously?!  Do they think that is the key to my heart?  Or more to the point, my pants?  Does that sort of thing ever work?  Is it just me?  These are questions I really want answers to!

I have been a working adult for the last 10 years, beginning with the military, then background investigator, then on to my current job.  While I haven’t yet fully experienced my “dream job,” work has always been something I enjoyed.  An escape from my home life.  A place that I could find 8 hours of peace in the chaos that is my life.  That is until recently.

When I joined the military, I was going through a massive depression stage brought on primarily by my abortion.  It was my first real bout of depression, and while joining the military served as an escape just in itself, going to work provided me with a daily distraction that helped to get me through.  I lived in the dorms, hundreds of miles from my family and friends, so when I wasn’t at work, I was alone…not really a great thing for me.  So work was my escape. 

When I married my first husband, and the problems started, work became my escape from the stress of my home-life.  I could be me at work, something that was cause for conflict at home.  I could have adult conversations without fights.  I was important.  I was doing something.  This continued through my second marriage, with the added escape from my children and the massive responsibility of being a mom.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my children, and I love my time with them.  But I could never be a SAHM.  I need adult interaction.  I need logic and reason in my life.  I need things that fulfill the other parts of me not connected to being a mom in order to feel like a whole person.  Not that SAHMs aren’t whole people, this is just me I’m referring to here.  I have the utmost respect for SAHMs.  I envy their patience and overall mothering skills.  I just couldn’t handle it.

Towards the end of my second marriage, I landed my current job.  It was the intense distraction I so sorely needed in that end.  I was training.  I was working.  I had multiple adults around to talk to who liked to talk. (something that was missing from my investigator job)  And when that marriage ended, it was the escape from my failures.  It was the escape from the pain of possibly losing my son.  It was the escape from the pain of being alone once again when the kids were with their fathers.  It was the greatest escape.  Then Mr. W came into my life.

Mr. W became my escape, and the scales began to tip.  I began enjoying my time at home almost as much as my time at work.  Sure there was still a lot of stress and drama in my life, but he was making it seem less difficult.  He gave me a distraction, something to be happy about, thankful for.  I didn’t need work as fervently as I had for the last 8 years.  Then the on-again-off-again started with him and work became a less desirable place to be.   We worked together, our desks literally next to each other, so in the times we were split up work became the last place in the world I wanted to be.  The tides were turning.

Finally, we sorted it all out, and were happy again and work became more of a nuisance.  The assholes began to rear their ugly heads.  All I wanted was the peace of home.  The peace of being with him…but then he left for Iraq.  Once again, work was my escape despite the assholes and the frustrations involved with it.  Work wasn’t the big empty house I was now living in.  His house.  The house that so easily allowed me to wallow in my sadness of his departure. 

But now Mr. W’s back.  The boy is home almost full time.  We have a family.  We have a home.  We are whole again and work, well, work sucks!  The assholes are being worse than ever.  There is a giant cloud of negative energy that is parked in my office, fed by my co-workers, growing, pulsing, and raining down more negativity on us all.  None of us enjoy coming here anymore.  There is little conversation.  There is little laughter.  There are few smiles.  The office is filled with hate and discontent, and the cloud keeps growing. 

My friend, Y, and I were talking about it the other day, and we find ourselves physically tired from all the negativity.  It’s draining.  It’s painful.  It’s toxic.  We joked about getting some sage and smudging the space, but of course we have smoke detectors…so maybe not.  I want to help change the energy.  I want to bring peace back to our little group, but I often find myself caught up in the cloud and actually feeding it more.  It’s like a sickness we can’t escape.  It’s like a fast-moving plague overcoming us, ever worsening, ever growing, ever spreading.  I see a major storm coming.  I see myself being involved.  I have had to bite my tongue too often lately for fear of saying something I shouldn’t.  I’m worried about those who won’t bite their tongue.  What will come spilling out of their mouths, fueled by anger.  What the resulting backlash will be.  I see it coming, and I feel helpless to stop it, and all I want to do is crawl back in bed, at home, until the impending storm passes…

…at least I hope it passes…

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

One of the guys here at work is always in and out of the office with his saying “Stupid is forever!” and damn if I don’t see eye to eye with him right about now!  Work is pissing me right off…well, not work, per se, but the idiots I work with.  I won’t bore you with all the details, as honestly, if you don’t work here you will have no idea what I’m talking about anyway, but shit royally hit the fan this morning for about 2 hours, and no one wanted to do a damn thing about it.  Have I mentioned how much stupidity and laziness bug me?

So, safety violations abound, creating more work than necessary for us on the receiving end, and putting planes, pilots, people, and equipment in mortal danger.  But who cares, right?  “Not I,” say the assholes whose asses aren’t on the line.  Just as long as they don’t actually have to make the smallest effort, they are happy as pigs in shit…and I don’t mean that entirely figuratively!  Even the new guy in training who knows little to nothing about what was going on, whose eyes glaze over when things get too complicated, not because he’s dumb (or at least hasn’t proven yet) but because he just doesn’t have the experience yet, even he knew things were messed up and could have easily been fixed with very little effort on the part of the assholes.  And oh, yeah…of course that certain someone who is always ready with a snide comment or two was there adding to my foul mood.  Gee, I feel blessed!

Besides that, I’m PMSing, my boobs hurt like I’m still nursing, and I’m sweating like a stuck pig for no apparent reason.  (Yet another wonderful blessing to go along with a mom’s post-baby body…unreasonable, out-of-nowhere sweating that refuses to respond to any sort of anti-persperant.  At least the deodorant part is working, so I don’t smell!) 

3 1/2 more hours of work to go!!  TGIF.  Seriously, TGIF!!