They are doing an “exercise” today so at the gate, they take my ID, walk back to the next car, take their ID, walk back to me to give me my ID back. There is no apparant reason for this and it’s not a big deal by itself but I see no purpose and so it pisses me off. I go to the post office and I have to show ID before I can enter the building. I have to show ID before I can buy groceries. I have to show ID before I can buy anything from the BX.

I am going to be selling at a craft fair – the last one because we aren’t fucking allowed to have a home based business. I have to ask for ID before I can sell to someone.

Regarding the above: a military spouse (read female dependent) can have a home business of child care providing but not making purses and bags. She uses her fucking military privileges – commissary, bx, etc – for personal profit but that’s okay. You know babysitting is okay and a home business isn’t? Because women are allowed to babysit – it’s a nice clean fucking-woman’s job!

GOD FUCKING DAMN! FUCK!

FUCK!

FUCK!
The blatent sexism pisses me off so fucking much. And my computer is broken. So I’m using the libraries computer which is a windows machine and I fucking hate it too.

So, I can use my military privelge of a the post office to repair my fucking computer – which is personal fucking profit – but not to run an (very) small business? Randomly drawn lines that must not be crossed.

The fucking pointlessness of it all is weighing on my so heavily. I just want out. I just want to go home. I just want to be free – as free as an American can be in this day and age. I want to work to make my world a better place and I can’t do that here. I want the option of not having anyone tell me what to do. I want to say what Iwant, wear what I want, go where I want, buy what I want, sell what I want, sleep with whom I want, have my husband sleep with whom he wants. I just want to not be a slave anymore.

Then I don’t really give a flying fuck.

Then at 1 am word came down that the flight has been canceled. Why? Because the company can’t be bothered (well, honestly just can’t afford) to keep their antique planes in repair. And so we waited another day, this time a day with no word from the hostages. They said they would simply call me when they arrived in the country but I’ve gotten no word. I miss them so much. I’ve missed them more than I’ve ever missed anyone in my life. I feel as though every day without them is another sliver chipped away from my sanity.

My daughter and I are basketcases. We yell at each other for minor infractions. She collapses dramatically over every small thing. I want to throw her through a wall for every small thing. We are barely hanging on by a thread and the Company My Husband Works For had the NERVE to call this the Year Of the “Company My Husband Works For” Family.

What the fuck? Let me tell you what would a year of the family. Call a cease fire to overseas negotiations for a year and bring fathers and husbands, wives and mothers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters home. A year WITH your family would really be something. Or if you can’t do that, let’s actually help out the family. Let’s give them more money – oh, can’t do that. The dollar isn’t doing well so we are actually going to have to take money away from you. Well what about now that the dollars doing better? Well, actually, that means that it now buys more here in your foreign country so we are going to give you less. What the fuck is wrong with you people?

Oh well, maybe we can give you greater benefits. Okay. Plan number 1? Take away your education assistance. WTF? Plan number 2, decrease functionality of your post office. WTF? Plan number 3, remove all but the most basic of medical services off base so you can tell a foreign doctor who doesn’t speak your language very well about your most sensitive and personal of problems and have them give you a handful of pills that are illegal in your country, you will get in trouble if you are piss tested after taking them and are the exactly WRONG thing to give someone with your symptoms. WTF? Plan number 4, work your spouse 12 hours a day. WTF? Plan number 5, quit answering the phone. WTF? Plan number 6, create illegal curfews for EVERYONE, 18 and on up. If you are a member of the Company My Husband Works For, you WILL be at you house by midnight and if you are not, you had better have taken leave. “But wait,” you say, “what if I’m hanging out at a buddy’s and just feel like crashing there?” Too bad. Why? Because the Company My Husband Works For likes to fuck you over in the ass. That’s why. Because it’s so full of bureaucratic shit that it can’t help itself.

So I am pissed. I’ve been patient and polite and have gone along with everything they’ve demanded of me and GODDAMMIT I want them back. I really really really need him home with me.

What the fuck people? Who the hell do these men think they are? Why the fuck are these women putting up with this shit? My one friend’s husband wants to work out their marriage. His part in working it out? He’s sticking around.

Yup.

That’s his big contribution. His mere presence. Which in reality means that he likes having someone do his laundry, cook his meals, and keep him from feeling the complete and total ass hole that he is. He says he wants to stay together for the kids, one of whom is an infant that he does NOTHING for, another is his 4 year old son that he only interacts with to yell at him. His daughter gets 110% o her “daddy’s” affection while their eldest son looks on in worry and silently processes the fact that mommy and daddy don’t sleep in the same room anymore. Great legacy you are leaving your kids there.

Another friend’s husband suddenly started running up credit card debt at bars and clubs while he was on overnight business trips. When confronted about it he was beligerant and defensive. In on of the ensuing arguments, he told his wife he didn’t love her and in another argument called her a cunt.

A cunt, people. That’s NOT okay.

Her response? To love him more. To buy him gifts. To do little special things for him in order to “love” him back into being someone he’s not – that is, a nice person.

Another friend has been living across the country from her husband for a year. During that year, he took a mistress. When his wife found out/he told her (I don’t know how it went down), he told her that he didn’t love or like his wife and hadn’t for many years, but, again, didn’t want a divorce. He wanted his wife to move back across the country in order to save their marriage and was unclear as to whether or not he would be willing or able to break it off with the other woman. She recently moved back to him.

I don’t understand. I mean, I do but I don’t want to. Sterling had this to say when I told him about all these goings on:

How can I help her and leave her Christianity intact? I’m reading these “Is your partner emotionally abusing you?” questionnaires. Here’s an example: http://www.lilaclane.com/relationships/emotional-abuse/male-victim-abuse.html Read the following with a mind on God.

Do you feel that you can’t discuss with your partner what is bothering you?
No one is fit to question God. Read Job.

Does your partner frequently criticize you, humiliate you, or undermine your self-esteem?
I’m a filthy creature worth of eternal suffering because of my constant failings.

Does your partner ridicule you for expressing yourself?
Its only OK to express myself if I do it His way. Expressing myself through means He doesn’t like, like sex, is worthy of my painful death.

Does your partner try to isolate you from friends, family or groups?
I should only socialize with people who have my values. Close friendships with anyone but fellow believers are forbidden.

Does your partner limit your access to work or material resources?
Everything I have comes from Him. I shouldn’t worry about finances. In fact, if I do, he’ll be angry or disappointed.

Has your partner ever stolen from you? Or run up debts for you to handle?
Everything He takes was his to begin with.

Does your relationship swing back and forth between a lot of emotional distance (clammed up) and being very close?
When we first met, he wanted to kill me, but now that obey him totally he loves me. When I get good things they’re from Him. Bad things too. And thats OK.

Do you sometimes feel trapped in the relationship?
If I leave Him, he’ll have me tortured to death for all eternity.

Has your partner ever thrown away or destroyed things that belonged to you?
He regularly “takes my loved ones home” ie kills them.

Are you afraid of your partner?
Not as long as I do everything He says. Of course I’m afraid when I disobey. That’s how it should be.

How do I help a woman who think she was created solely for the purpose of a Man’s pleasure?  He made her to please Him.  He makes her suffer when it pleases Him.  He makes her happy when it pleases Him.  And if she doesn’t like it, He’ll make or miserable. or kill her.  Then even in death, He will allow her to be tortured for ever.

This sister called me the other day and told me that she was experiencing some doubts in God and Christianity and the whole shebang. I sympathized, I really did. I was there when my husband was going through his deconversion. I was there for my deconversion. I know what it feels like to have the foundation of your entire life shaken and finally utterly destroyed. I know that it’s like to suddenly realize that you’ve been basing your life on a giant game of pretend.

Last night she shared her doubts with her husband – the husband that demands obedience and acquiescence from his wife and children because he is the “head of the household,” thus sayeth the Lord. His response? “Honey, I think we should have an open marriage and I think we should hop in the sack with a couple who are complete strangers to us. Whaddya think?”

My sister: “I’m not really comfortable with that.”

Her husband: “Well, how about if I just step out with said couple?”

My sister, somewhat in shock at the sudden turn of events: “Um, okay.”

Her husband: “Alrighty then. I’ll see you later tonight after I’ve gotten my grove on with this stranger couple I found via an online advertisement.”

*door swings shut behind him*

HOLY SHIT!

I am not making this up. The man that won’t let his wife get a tattoo, that wants his wife to wear skirts and keep her hair long, wants his kids homeschooled for religious reasons, this man just had a threesome? With strangers? That he found in an advertisement?

I am not sure if I’m pissed at him for being an asshole, angry with my sister for being a doormat, happy that maybe their shitty marriage will quit giving marriage a bad name and just end already, secretly giddy that religion has failed once again, or just really depressed that my sister’s life just went down the shitter in every possible way and she’s just bumped herself up on my suicide-watch list.

This fucking sucks.

That is mind blowing. That guy just stood up there and blatantly preached armed revolution. In reference to the perceived increase in the infringement of gun rights, this guy said, “Oh Hell no. When you hear [oh hell no] where I come from, you know that someone is gonna get beat, stabbed or shot and the guy that takes the beating, the knife blade or the bullet, undoubtedly deserved it. Oh hell no.” (at 1:18). Really? So as long as I precede my crime with “Oh hell no!” I’m innocent because the other guy “undoubtedly” deserved it? What the fuck?

This pisses me off. I hate that my parents and many of my friends and family believe this bullshit. I hate that a friend is running for office and I disagree with her on just about everything. It pisses me off that I can’t even talk about politics with my family because they are so ignorant that to start a decent conversation is to reveal their ignorance. It’s like trying to talk to someone about space travel who’s only exposure to the concept is episodes of Doctor Who and Star Trek. When you start to talk about the limitations of space travel they counter with made up shit that they believe completely and totally and the only way to have a reasonable, realistic conversation is to destroy everything they know to be true. And I’m unwilling to do that just yet so it pisses me off.

Shoulder dystocia. Infant’s shoulder gets caught on the mother’s pubic bone, leaving the baby’s head hanging out of the vagina but the rest of him stuck. In one of the papers I read, the author says, “What about shoulder dystocia? It occurs in 1.4% of births and a midwife can’t perform a Zavanelli delivery.” Zavanelli? What the heck is a Zavenelli? It’s the procedure of stuffing the delivered head back into the mother and then delivering the child via cesarean. My first thought is: Really? Home birth isn’t safe because a midwife can’t perform a Zavanelli, what should be considered a last ditch method of treating shoulder dystocia? So doing some more research, I find a list of procedures for dealing with shoulder dystocia. The most successful is the McRoberts maneuver. In the McRoberts, the laboring mother’s legs are pushed back towards her chest, changing the angle of her pubic bones, allowing the shoulder to slip free and continue on it’s journey through the birth canal with the rest of his body. This maneuver is successful about 50-60% of the time. What strikes me as odd is that the legs being pressed towards the chest is an awful lot like FUCKING SQUATTING! I digress.

Some of the other methods included delivering the non-stuck arm, suprapubic pressure (pressing on the baby’s shoulder via the outside, moving it either left or right to uncatch it. Combined with the McRoberts, the success rate is increased. Also mentioned were “generous” episiotomies, breaking the clavical (though few known cases have happened and is usually used to deliver a dead baby, the clavical being broken with a large pair of shears), and the Zavanelli. Also mentioned was Ina May Gaskin’s all-fours maneuver in which she reported an 82% success rate but, understandably, it’s not really feasible in a hospital as most women can’t feel their legs during delivery. After McRobert’s and suprapubic pressure, it doesn’t really matter what order the others are performed in. either something will work or it won’t.

Then comes the ACOG’s order. 1. Call for assistants (anesthesiologists, second OB, pediatrician, etc), which is a good call, especially if there’s a law suit later. Seriously, getting back-up is a good thing. Call for back up, apply gentle traction. 2. Cut a generous episiotomy. FUCKING NUMBER TWO! SLICE THE BITCH! WHY? WHY THE FUCK IS THE SECOND STEP TO SLICE AND DICE? Episiotomies do not solve 50% of the cases! 3. Suprapubic pressure. Wait until step 4 to perform the McRoberts because, dammit, I’ve got to have a chance to take a fucking knife to this bitch’s cunt! FUCK! GOD DAMN THE FUCKING ASS WIPE ACOG FOR THEIR GOD DAMN ANTI-WOMAN, HATEFUL, GHASTLY, SCARY, SICK FUCK IDEAS! I HATE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH I COULD SCREAM . . . which technically, I am.

I’m sorry. It just makes me so angry. And a little sick to my stomach. When I read their list, I had to get up from the computer and chill for a while because it was making me sick. Step two. Slice her vag open. The baby’s not stuck on vaginal tissue. The shoulder is stuck on the pubic bone. How does an episiotomy change that? It doesn’t. It’s a $1000 worth of stitches and maybe it makes it easier for the doctor to see, I don’t know. What a fucking stupid organization. They have to be the biggest fuckwads in the world. Or at least in the running.

Feeling brave? Scroll down and see what the ACOG suggests as step two.

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Pretty much, life sucks right now.

But that’s not why I’m writing today. I’m writing today because something hilariously disturbing happened today. But first, some back story.

My parents are in the fifties. They grew up rough (met in a bar), have had four kids, two of whom went through a “let’s see how many ways I can get arrested” stage (not me, ironically). All of their children are grown, three with kids of their own, the other traveling the country playing guitar. So I ask you: Why the FUCK do my parents have an internet filter on their computer? This isn’t like virus software. No no no. This is American Family Association CONTENT filter.

I was doing a paper on Social Networking and it blocked MySpace because it’s a “single’s service,” or some such bullshit as that. So today, I get an essay back from my teacher and decide to post it to my other blog. I type in wordpress.com into the address bar and what do you think pops up? That’s right, people.

“Site blocked”

Reason?

“Blocked Catergory: Anarchy”

Fucking anarchy. What the fuck? Since when is blogging anarchist? Since when is having a voice and a place to use that voice anarchist? How scared do  you have to be in order for something like wordpress to be categorized as “anarchy.” What a crock of shit.

And of course my mom says, “Well, your dad and I aren’t into all that kind of stuff so it’s never a problem for us.”

I AM NOT INTO ANARCHY, MOTHER! I am into speaking my mind and spewing my guts to total strangers. That’s not anarchy! At least, it wasn’t last time I checked. Maybe the definition has changed. Anyway, I think it’s crazy. I’m tempted to go into her filter and just remove everything. I think the only things that are left (you choose which categories are blocked) are gambling and maybe one or two others. So stupid. So scared. So pathetic.

My experiences with this boy began when he hit my daughter because she was playing a board game wrong – a game he was not even playing. He threatened her another time and we instructed her that when someone is abusing her, she needs to fight back. It’s not just that it’s okay, but it’s actively good to fight back when you are being hurt and/or threatened. Some time after this conversations he cornered her and another friend and wouldn’t let them escape. She did as we’d told her to do and started fighting to escape. He hit back and it ended with everyone in tears, including the “big, bad, boy,” who, it turns out, is a big pussy.

A few months ago, this family moved out of our area and I was glad to see them go (the other kids are strange in a not fun way, too). I just recently found out that their son, the one that regularly attacked other kids for no reason and cried like a baby when they fought back (even though according to the two girls, he was definitely the winner), is suffering acute liver failure and is on a transplant list.

Now here’s why I think I’m sick. When I read that he was ill, my first thoughts, though not this coherent and much more just feelings, were “Whohoo!” and “Good. One less brat to threaten my daughter.” My thoughts weren’t “Oh god. That poor family.” or “even though I don’t like them, they must be suffering so much.” Nope. Just “Good.”

And that’s why I’m sick. I am glad that someone’s child is sick and possibly dying. I feel no remorse. I feel no sympathy. I feel nothing but a tiny spark of glee. I’m not entirely comfortable with this. I’m not sure its the kind of person I want to be. On the other hand, I wonder if I’m simply more honest with myself than most people. When I was a Christian, I would have blamed this thought on the devil because, of course, I would never think such a horrible thing on my own. Now I know better and I know that every horrible thought I’ve ever had has come from one source.

Me.

No one else. No secret, whispering boogey-men. Just me and my brain and whatever sickness it’s cooked up.