Debutante Gone Wrong

I swore I would never do it again. When I stopped swimming in college I swore I would never get up at oh dark hundred to work out again. I had had it with the dark cold cement numbing my toes as I danced to the water’s edge, only to have them burned off as I dove into the by contrast boiling water to “warm-up” and begin a 4,000 yard day. The morning after the last day of practice, my senior year. I woke up and thought “I’m over it.” I grinned as I snuggled back into my comforter, and went back to sleep. Go ‘Heels, my ass.

Then I joined the Coast Guard. I became a rescue swimmer. Yes, one of those crazy motherfuckers who jump out of helicopters to rescue people. No not like that pansy Ashton Kutcher, and DON”T EVEN start about G.I. Jane. (What IS it with that couple?). Although ironically on the page that lists all the ASMs, non of the women are listed except Randa, and she was the first. Go figure.

I used to hate the summer three day weekends because most of the folks I rescued during this time were drunk, and too stupid to know it. One of the requirements of the job was that I be in amazing shape. I mean, I was pulling people out of the water, after all, and fat loud-mouthed drunk men are not easy things to haul out of the drink, lemme just say right now. I was swimming and biking to keep my legs in shape, so the next logical thing to do was triathlons. Right? Right? I had to getup early to run because of the damned heat.

Then I got hit by a car in the middle of a race. In Palos Verdes. I broke my back. In six places. My kneecap shattered.

No more getting up in the morning, for almost two years. In fact, no more getting up at all. I went from kicking ass and taking names, to not walking at all. I got to sleep in. I relished this and was often heard to say that I went to sleep when tired and I woke up when I wasn’t. This lasted throughout my entire recovery and was pure bliss. Last June, I began the final recovery. The last fracture in my back was finally healed and I began to go tot the chiropractor, the osteopath, and the orthopedic surgeon. After six months of getting my structure sound, allergies cleared (supposedly but not really) and a firm way of standing and moving, I was given the go ahead to go animal.

I did okay by myself for a while. I added muscle and began to move, and lost eighteen pounds. Then I plateaued. And stayed there. And stayed there. I finally whined to a friend who is a personal trainer at the college. She and I and another cool girl, Ripped Bags, began to work out together. It was chill. We would show up at 9:30 am and workout for an hour or so and then swim a bit and laugh our way through the whole thing, adding muscle and losing weight. Then Ripped Bags got a real job. I mean, my real job is teaching college which varies FROM term to term in schedule and we were chillin’ at 9:30. RB got an 8-5 gig. Well, shit. The only time we can ll meet is (yep!, you guessed it) 6 am.

I swore I would ever do them again. And I am plateauing. Again. I do it because it is now kinda fun to walk in a see my friends in Team Animal for an hour in the morning three days a week. We even have a male member of the team. And I have once again been reminded of the ‘never say never rule.”

Go Animal.

It seems antithemic to wish anyone a Happy Memorial Day. It isn't happy to remember those fallen. So to all my fellow vets out there, I am glad I do not have to memorialize you. And to those who have fallen, i will remember you. I will honor you.

Oh MAN!

So I have a friend named Sam (age 7) who falls outside the lines of the conventional school system. He is bright, funny and willful, everything you want a child to be. He is interested in lots of things, plays hard, works hard, thinks well, and is overall a happy guy. But, he does not like details, he gets frustrated when he cannot be allowed to communicate, and hates to write physically. There is some evidence of a familial disability in regards to this. His mother can’t write for crap either. He does learn on a social and emotional level, but is a little delayed in terms of maturity in this area.. BUT, these are not good enough indicators of disability to label him. He is SEVEN.

Sam lives across the street from me. He is a cool little kid. At the beginning of the school year his teacher called a meeting to discuss “the problem of Sam.” At that point I had not moved in yet, and did not know this was happening. By the time I did, I agreed to sit in an watch Sam in the classroom, and do some assessment on him because I knew, I KNEW, they would try to get him labeled as learning disabled. Specifically dyslexic. This kid is not a dyslexic. And I should know. Not only am I trained in psycho-educational assessment, but I AM ONE. And they did.

Epic Fail.

I tested him, examined his homework, looked at the previous reports written on him and did some neuropsych stuff. He is fine. He is delayed a bit but still falls into age appropriate levels and categories. My take: the teacher’s teaching style does not work with Sam’s learning style. So of course the problem is Sam, right? No. We had a meeting today in which I as the resident expert told them in no uncertain terms that they will not label him as LD at this time. The school psychologist who does not have more than one Master's and it is only in education was pushing for it. Insipid twit. It is inappropriate and I cited theory and tests scores. We won. We gave them alternate ideas as to how to repair the holes in the education of Sam, and luckily the principal was on our side. Bastards.

I fucking hate the educational system the wants to prune all the independent thinkers and mold them into little clones who go baa baa baa. I hate the ridiculousness of not allowing for freedom of cognition and the ideas that may or may not be in the best interest of the teacher. What about the child? I cannot fricking STAND the idea that some kid, who is just being a kid, has to conform to someone’ else’s idea of how to be. What about spirit and free will and allowing for the right of the child. He is just being seven.

Nothing happened. We won. Sam gets to be Sam, and we will help him the way he needs to be helped. But, and here is the thing, we won BECAUSE I was there. I had to throw down the Dr. card to win. What about all the kids who don’t have someone like me in their lives?

Once again the hat goes off to the commitment phobe. Fox told an ex of his that he was dating someone kinda seriously. She calls herself Tiffy Wiffy on myspace. Perfect. She calls him two days later and says that she wasn’t expecting that and that she needs to walk away if he is going to be with someone else. Up until then their relationship had always been kinda light and easy. Instead of calling me, he freaks, goes on a few runs to sort things out, and still not calling me, decides he does not want to do without her presence in his life. They decide to commit and go exclusive. He drops this bomb on me today.

I’m riled. I never get riled. I did not realize how much I liked him until this. I was liking where we were going, getting closer and closer each time we saw each other. I don’t like the selfish power play Tiffy pulled. It leaves me with no options. I walk away and it is easier for everyone except me. I can tell him I want to be with him, but his mind is already made up, and there ain’t no changing it. He told me in a comparison test, she wins. The primary thing she has going for her is history: a year longer than he and I. That and he feels completely at ease with her, although he has to make himself be a better man around me, so I am not sure which wins there. I have always said that if he can find someone better, he should be with her. So there it is. He feels she is better.

My dilemma now is whether or not to stay friends. We were winding our way to a good thing, Now he made a choice that does not allow us history or potential. He didn’t talk with me about it, and this has been pointed out as unfair and less than kind. He accepts this and agrees, strongly, like a man: one of the reasons why I like him so much. His gut told him not to let her go. My gut tells me not to let him go, and yet I have to. His mind is elsewhere.

If I walk away then I defy my gut. I never do that.

If I remain friends then I can create history with a very cool man. Some boundaries might need to be in place, for instance – I don’t want to hear about Tiffy Wiffy ever (Jesus, who would?), and I would need to shut off emotions that are currently in place. This is okay. I can do that. And he has already made it clear that he has already done that for me. It is one of the ways in which we are alike. But the cons are that I will never get to kiss him again. I will never get to hear his secrets, or tell him mine. In short, the potential dies. Completely. Because he has thrown away something that I believe could have been great, given time. For a girl named Tiffy Wiffy.

I don’t feel dumped. I think this is situational, and is really fucking bad timing. So I will not decide right now what to do. Instead, I will throw myself back into workouts and writing and work, and decide what to do later. All comments welcome.

Sarah Palin is at it again. What a moron. She recently nominated Wayne Anthony Ross for Attorney General of Alaska. This si a man who has his initials on his liscence plate (WAR and thinks it is a good joke. He also once defended husbands raping their wives, claiming ““If a guy can’t rape his wife, who’s he gonna rape?” How about NO ONE?? He later denied that he had said it, claiming that he does nto tlak like that. But he did argue for the right to rape for dads aginist discrimination. Excuse me? The “right” of a man to rape? What?!? Further, this asshole called homosexuals “degenerates,” spouted abuse against an African-American student offended by a statue of a Klansman, and promised to undermine the sovereignty of Native American tribes. What a guy!

Maybe Sarah was thinking that because she was not vetted well, the same thing could happen to her buddy. Well, we always knew she wasn’t very bright, and that we dodged a serious bullet when she was elected to one of our countries highest offices. Leah burton, a lobbyist on behalf of children’s rights nad domestic violence was loud in her vehemence to stop WAR, reminding us all of another memorable quote from the man himself: “If a woman would keep her mouth shut, there wouldn’t be an issue with domestic violence.” He responded by calling Leah Burton a “fringe nutcase,” citing her lack of Christianity as the reason she is against him. WOW.

Evidently he has claimed that his dying wish is to get Roe vs Wade overturned. Ironic then that he almost made it in the back of a woman who is more powerful than he. Many are not surprised by Sarah’s nomination, claiming that she needs to establish a tough agenda to remain in the spotlight for the Republican party. The hard right agenda will not go through, Sarah, and this is why you were not elected. The people have had enough of that little pot of crazy. The WAR you seek is one that is not one you can win.

And I wipe my brow in that you are too dumb to get that you are pretty transparent. We dodge yet another bullet.