New...

I have started a new chapter in my life, and that called for a new blog. For my followers, this is the new one.

Hindsight

It is sad to me to read about Michael Jackson, now post-mortem.

He was a celebrity, both famous and infamous, depending on who you were speaking to, but I think the way America, as a whole, reacts to him really says something about who WE are. There is a quote I stumbled across that says 'When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself." -Wayne Dyer. I think that Michael Jackson is a prime example of this. He was accused and acquitted of child molestation. Instead of taking the word of the people who are paid to ensure the justice system works correctly, instead of thinking about it and understanding that no amount of fame would allow that many people to turn a blind eye to something when it would put 3 other children directly in harms way, we judge. We assume they were all wrong. We would rather assume that those who had the most access to evidence were tainted, and harp on an incident and judge someone we truly could not have known. That is so sad.

In reading the above linked article, many of the statements M.J. made just strike my heart. This man, boy, child... He was so lost, so scared. It doesn't take much to see that he behaved much like a frightened child. He was emotionally a child, and in a position most adults wouldn't be able to handle. Being the center of attention that he was, well, honestly, I don't think I could handle that. I don't think I'd ever want it. I think this was probably much like a game of dress-up for him, when he was on stage. He was thrust into the spotlight from such a young age, he didn't know anything else. Everyone will make up their own mind, I know, but it is none the less sad to me that we insist on judging this way.

Judge not, lest ye be judged.
What if people assumed every accusation about you was true?

Don't Ask

The Don't Ask-Don't Tell-Don't Harrass policy has been standing for more than a decade. I ran across this article over at military.com and it got me to thinking about things.
I have friends who are gay- in and out of the military.
I have roomed with bisexual and lesbian soldiers in basic training, AIT and since I've been in Korea. I'm really not all that sure what the big fuss is about. We already have soldiers who get in conflicts over perceptions of this sort. There's also plenty of folks who just don't care that their roomate, friend, colleague, brother or sister in arms likes the same gender. There's always going to be differences. 50 years after segregation was outlawed, we still have racist folks in the world, and, sadly enough, even among the ranks of the military.
A policy cannot fix personnel.
At one point in time, I had told a gay friend of mine in the military that I really did think it was probably a bad idea to open this up and remove the policy, for fear of violence, and because living situations would undoubtedly become more stressful for some. This friend pointed out to me that violence already happens, and more often based on perceptions than known realities. That friend also pointed out to me that allowing soldiers to be open about their orientation would not force them to be such. Not all gay or lesbian soldiers want the spotlight. Not all of straight soldiers have an issue serving next to their homosexual counterparts.
While people in the civilian sector struggle to earn what most of us take as a basic human right- the right to marry- proud, patriotic and damn good soldiers are struggling just to be able to be honest. It would be a beautiful thing, to me, if I am able to stand up in uniform at my gay friends wedding, and watch her get married to her fellow (female) service member fiance.
We're brothers and sisters in arms, and I, for one, will not treat the people to my left and right as any less.

The Rules Disney Left Out

Flipping through relationship articles after my recent engagement was baptised by my own brand of fire, I've been reminiscing on a lot of my past relationships. I've been divorced 2 years now, and I'm well over my ex-husband, though I've missed being married more than a few times. My fiance is a long-time friend, who's known me nearly my entire adult life, and whom I've trusted with plenty that is near and dear to me. He's more than proven himself at this point, and has even learned, I believe, the importance of communication. Now that it's all been proven and, to use a tattoo-world term, now that the relationship has been "set" (Ever had anyone slap a fresh tattoo? Your tattoo was set.) I'm looking forward, making idealistic and tenative plans in my head, and wondering how I can do this whole marriage thing better this time around. Besides the obvious- picking someone I'm more likely to last with- there's a surprising amount of genuinely useful information out there. MSN's relationship section is my current fascination. 8 Things No One Will Ever Tell You About Marriage is particularly comforting, I must say. I've been in enough relationships to recognize the 'This is it?!' feeling. Waking up next to the same person every day does lose it's excitement at some point, I promise you. It's far more difficult the morning you wake up and they AREN'T there, though, and I'm speaking from experience on that one. The one thing I miss most about being married was knowing that, no matter what I went through, I had a partner, that I wouldn't be going through anything alone. I can say, also from experience, it is way more comforting to have a partner who's reactions you can almost predetermine. The knowledge that you can depend on your partner to be the calm, focused and reasonable one when you go off the deep end is far more comforting in your moments of darkness than you can imagine before it happens, I assure you. One person quoted in the aforementioned article equates marriage to weight loss- expecting it to be a one-time battle, but finding out it's a day-to-day struggle. I can relate to that, especially after being sober a little over 4 months here in the US Army. It's no joke. These things get easier as you realize what you're going to be dealing with, but the road is never completely down hill. There are always bumps and hills that you never saw coming.
An interesting point the author raises is that it's truly important- yes, important- to have an occasional really big fight. It clears the air, old issues, new issues- everything in one shot. A week ago I would have rolled my eyes at that. After nearly ending my engagement after a freak out I had a few days ago, I was hit by a shocking realization: even I didn't know what I was really upset about. When I went off on him, though, it all came out, every detail, things I hadn't even realized were bothering me about the way we were doing things. You know what? It cleared everything up, and I have never felt so content, safe or at peace with any relationship I have ever had. I'm quite proud of myself for learning this particular lesson without flushing a five-year friendship and budding marriage down the drain. I'm even more proud of Ryan for not giving up on me when I was hurtful and unfair to him. He more or less denies my wrong-doing in retrospect, which is amazing to me, and the latest addition to my list of reasons not to walk away from this.
A point I liked from an article about surprising things that had a tendency to cause trouble in otherwise healthy marriages/relationships (I can't for the life of me find the article right now) was that women making more money than their husbands can cause a lot of tension. This is something even had to step back from and think about. I'm in the Army. My fiance is a tatoo artist. It's a given that I'm going to be the primary breadwinner, at least until/unless the shop we're planning to open takes off in a big way. Thing is, tattooing just isn't a steady kind of work- more customers in the summer months, and repeat customers are a huge deal. None the less, there is inherent instability in this career, and I have no issues with that. Being in the military and making more than my (soon-to-be) husband does have one major benefit though: I am in the one career field where I genuinely will not be successful without his help, and my promotion and doing well will truly be linked to his efforts, as well as mine. Don't believe me? Ask any military spouse what I'm talking about. I've been there- and spouses can truly be the piece of the puzzle that makes or breaks a military career, and it's not always so subtle. The reason this is such a benefit, though, is because it will be that much easier to make sure there is no ego damage- to either of us- when it comes to this. I know from experience I will do better with a stable, happy home life, than as being a single soldier with nothing but myself. There are, naturally, added challenges, but they are all worththe added strength that comes from having my best friend at home, holding down the fort, and watching my back in ways I can't always do.
A fascinating article on unique marriages brings up another point I have found myself comprehending recently; Trust and partnership are the most basic and neccesarry components. People talk about cheating, but, personally, when I learned my ex-husband cheated on me (I made my mistakes, too), it was equally as hurtful to me that he's been hiding pornography from me as it was that he'd been cheating. I'd never had a problem with porn, in all truth- it was the fact that he'd abused my trust by hiding these things that hurt worse than any of his actions actually did. I'm not saying everyone should be accepting of their partner going out and sleeping with whoever they feel like, but I think sex is one of those things that is simply taken as a given part of a relationship or marriage at this point, and it seems counterproductive to not be taking a closer look at how each of us as an individual and each individual couple feels about an aspect of our relationship that has a drastic, heavy and unmistakable impact on our every day lives, not to mention our happiness and survival as a couple or family.
Anyway, it's late and time for me to crash.
I guess I'm not completely hopeless when it comes to relationships after all.

He's Only Human

My Commander-In-Chief has a different style than his predecesors, that's for certain. He's always been a bit humble, with an I'm-Just-A-Man sort of demeanor. This particular photo may be nothing more than an amusing tidbit of evidence that, yes, he's still human.
I'm sure the press will go nuts with this photograph, and I'm half-certain there will be some sort of public apology once a million people take this too far, but, hell guys, he's a man. If you wanted a militant, inhuman president, you had your chance to get Hillary a shot in the runnings.
I have no doubt his wife will have a couple words for him, but I think even she knows it's little more than a snapshot taken at the right moment and a man being a man.

Follow Up: A Side Note About Complexions

I'm not entirely sure why this particular tidbit is hitting the press so hard, but it seems there's an impression that the same man who denied minority children who had a membership to his pool any further access after racist parents became upset, was the same who ran a blood drive supporting my commander in chief- President Barrack H. Obama. It's an odd coincidence, what with the massive racial implications of this mess, but it leads me to wonder if his wording- changing the "complexion" and atmosphere of the pool- was little more than a slip, or repetition of something said to him by one of these less-than-worthy parents. I am one to try to see the best in people, but, generally, I'm also the type who prefers 'hell no' to arse kissing. I suspect the parents came to this man having their racist temper tantrums, afraid the color would somehow rub off on their children and make them less aryan bastards, and the man was so overwhelmed by the response that he did the only thing he knew how to in order to diffuse the situation. I am not, by any means, defending this man; I am merely hoping that my see-the-best-in-people methods aren't completely doomed. Perhaps he is racist, but my suspicion is he was walked on by those hateful parents who's children fleed the pool because there were people of color getting in it. I think the outcome will be one hell of an apology from a man who's biggest issue is a complete lack of spine rather than moral fortitude. Personally, I would have done the opposite and told the mothers to hop in their Hitlermobile and find a whiter pool if they had issues with other paying members.
Racism is, truly, one of my biggest triggers. I grew up in a predominantly Hispanic area of the country, my town was heavily Mexican, and many that weren't were Mescalero Apaches, and I was, with my sister, the only Gringo child on the block. I am a quarter native, which is one of those things I laugh when I say because, no matter how much pride I have in this, everyone has native in them these days, and thinks it makes them special or less white somehow. I don't particularly care for race, but my roots- both ethnically and culturally- mean a lot to me. I still have a ridiculous pull to the Mexican culture- not because of any ethnic origin or tie (I don't have a drop of that) but because it's what I grew up with, and I love it, and find pride in that. The real irony of that is that I was jumped by 3 local Mexican girls at the age of 11- 2 of 3 of them I'd known since before Kindergarden- because of my skin color, and because they thought it'd make them look cool. I recently straightened out a soldier who perpetually found it humorous to call me Cracker. He's a light skinned, mixed-race male, a couple years my senior, if I recall. He's half, or maybe a quarter, black. He's extremely light skinned, and, had I turned the tables and called him Cracker, or Nigger, or Half-breed, or Oreo, or any other racial slur, it just wouldn't have been funny any more. Race is not a proving ground. Race is not a reason, a belief, a paycheck, an education, a neighborhood, an upbringing, and no, it's not even a culture. The color of a man's skin will not tell me where he was born and raised, nor where his parents are from. It will not tell me if he was raised in a good home, with good morals or if he was in a 'broken' home where he was left to fend for himself more often than not. Look at me, and you see a "white girl". I carry myself with pride, I'm intelligent, I don't let people walk on me, I have good manners and a good heart. To some people that means I grew up in a rich neighborhood with a good education and a close family. In truth, my parents divorced when I was 2, and my whole childhood resembled a long, poorly made Lifetime movie. Multiple fights, injuries, hospitalizations, foster homes, medications, lies, deaths, moves, boyfriends and 2 rapes later, I was forced to grow up quickly. Only a few months before my 21st birthday, the lies I'd been told my entire life began unravveling, and I had to take responsibility for a lot of things I was unprepared for, and start fresh in a way I never could have understood as I did it. I grew up in bad neighborhoods, hearing drive-by shootings in the middle of many nights, and seeing things, within my home, and on the outside, that I never should have known about. I may look like just another "white girl" but if you think I'm some rich, snotty, barbie-doll wanna be princess, you need to open your eyes and realize nothing is as simple as skin color. Nothing.

Scene?

I stumbled across UrbanDictionary.com earlier, and, eventually across a post about what is referred to as being "scene". I suppose I've heard the term before, but I think I must have ignored it. Seriously, though, people still go that far out of their way to belong to some little fanatical clique? And that many others go that far out of their way to make a public display of being disgruntled with people who go out of their way to belong to some little fanatical clique? What is with people these days? Am I that far removed from society or are these people just painfully, horrendously self-concious? I honestly didn't think people still behaved like this. I know what drama is- I've seen plenty of that- but this is my clique vs your clique high school BS. Grow up, people!!!!