Water-Boarding or Free Ponies?

NH has been quite the place to be the last week or so… I’m proud of our state and I have enjoyed the buzz around town. Now that it’s over I’ve been left with a little bit of a political hangover. I’ve had way too much, and now my head is spinning, and I don’t want to see another campaign sign for a long time!

I have some stuff to say for the Trump Lovers, Bernie haters, Hilary supporters, and the people who put Vermin Supreme in fourth place in the democratic running.

Am I a skilled reporter or political science major? Nope.

Am I normal human citizen of America who is allowed to have an opinion? Yup.

Do I think that everyone else is also entitled to their opinion? Yup.

Will I ever agree with you or take your opinions seriously if you use hate, oppression, and sexism as a basis for your arguments? Sure won’t!

That pretty much wipes out the whole Republican Party. With the front runner, Mr. WATERBOARD!!!!, 2nd runner up, Mr. Women-shouldn’t-be-in-the-military, and 5th place, Mr. No-gay-marraige-allowed!

I will give a little (very little and not supportive) nod to Mr. Kasich and Mr. Bush… Only because I found their loser speeches to be very humble, very positive, and lacking any hateful, bigotry. So if I was being water-boarded and had to choose a republican for prez it would be one of them. So there is that, if that is worth anything… And it’s not. Whatever, Republicans.

I’m not ashamed to say that I #feeltheBern.

Is he radical? Is he a little bit out there? Yeah, he is. But only if what you are used to is big banks and rich entities funding campaigns. Only if you think that people age 20-45 should be in $65,000-$125,000 debt for choosing to go to college so they don’t have to work for $8.00 at a local restaurant or retail store. Only if you think that life is precious until it’s born and becomes a child that a mother can’t care for, or a homeless person, or a mentally handicapped person, a disabled person, or any other person who can not feed, clothe, or care for themselves. Only if you believe that proper and life saving healthcare is only for the rich.

Then, yes. Bernie is CRAZY! And I can’t wait to see where the crazy train is headed! All aboard! Choo choo!!!

A shout out to my girl Hillz! She fought hard, and as much as I’d love to see a Madame President… I just can’t get on board. She’s got some sketchy emails that I think will be causing problems soon. She’s got some money coming in from places that aren’t small, local, citizen-based groups and it rubs a lot of people the wrong way. Overall, I think her heart is in the right place. She does seem like helping kids is her life’s work, and I’m all about that life! She’s also had to deal with a lot of shit through the years in her past careers, positions, and marraige. I get it, she’s seasoned. It’s cool. But what wasn’t cool was her attitude that “if you’re a girl and don’t vote for another girl than you’re a bitch.” Ok, that’s not exactly what was said, and it wasn’t even her that said it… But anyway, that’s not how feminism works. Hillz, I support your right to choose, to live as you feel comfortable, and to be free and run for president! But you Hillz, need to also be supportive of women and their right to choose what’s best for them and accept the fact that maybe that choice isn’t you. Good hustle though, still my second choice!

Then there is the candidate that got 256, votes coming in 4th on the Democratic ticket. Mr. Vermin Supreme! With his promise of ponies for all, mandatory teethbrushing, and use of time travel to thwart ISIS, why wouldn’t he get the votes!?

Also, he takes a rad selfie:

 Yes, thats me. Yes that is a boot on his head.

He’s like the crazy guy at the party that everyone loves to laugh with, drunkenly solve world problems with, take selfies with… But you sure as hell aren’t asking him for financial advice or to do the brakes on your car.

It’s an interesting world we live in when we get to decided which one of the above listed humans will get to make executive decisions regarding our health, education, happiness and well-being. Maybe interesting isn’t the word….

Terrifying might be more like it.

So it is with crossed fingers and closed eyes that I whisper under my breath “please not Trump, please not Trump, please not Trump…ANYONE but Trump.”

Because I’d take free ponies over water-boarding any day of the week.

Advertisements

I Believe in You

Just a few random things I’ve been holding onto, Happy Friday…

  1. A close guy friend and I had an interesting back-and-forth the other day and I think its worth mentioning because I hear this argument a lot. We were in a group having a drink or two and hanging out and were casually talking about weird stuff that happens to women/men and cat calling came up. He remarked “Damn, I would LOVE IT if a girl tried to hit on me on the street. You should be glad that happens to you!” For the sake of the happy and fun atmosphere we were in, I decided not to get into it… BUT I will now. So males, you think you’d like for a female to approach you on the street and say something flirty and sexy and maybe even a little forward? That’s fine. What if shes not your type, maybe shes really old, maybe shes not very attractive to you, how about now? No? still want the attention? OK try this one on for size because this is how it feels: You’re a confident man comfortable in their environment while walking to your car after a nice dinner with friends in the city. As you come around the corner a large burly man with at least a foot on you is leaning against the building and as you walk by he says “Hey sexy man, sweet ass, I’d wreck that, what? You don’t wanna talk to me? Come on sweet cheeks, give me a chance!” You immediately become very confused because you are not gay, you don’t like men, you don’t want this attention, its very uncomfortable and you might even become angry and want to say something to him for this unwanted advance, but you don’t because he could probably lay you out or maybe he has weapon, or bigger burlier friends.
  2. ALWAYS GOOGLE ONLINE DATING PEOPLE. I almost went on a date with a guy from OKCupid last week… Seemed nice enough, normal, funny, mostly respectful… no kids, his own place, job, car, etc. or so I thought. Found him on google after he told me where he worked so then I found him on Facebook. Turns out he is married, way older than he said, and a father of a beautiful little girl. When I asked him point blank if he had kids he said “negative” (which should have been a red flag in itself). So then I told him I didn’t have time for liars or cheaters and that he had a beautiful family and wished him the best of luck. He tried the “Wait, wait, wait, let me explain…” but I didn’t let him explain, even after he sent me a book about his life and why he’s seeking something else outside of his current life, and that I seemed like I would understand…really? I look like a homewrecker? Cool, thanks, you’re sweet, lets fuck! Seriously? I deleted the app off my phone and have sworn off dating for a while.
  3. Donald Trump is literally the worst. I can’t even imagine a country run by him. Please get out and vote for ANYONE but him. Literally, ANYONE. Please?
  4. A close friend who I also work closely with on a music project, told me today that she was proud of me and the person I have become over the last year. She said that she believes in me. Let me tell you how many feels I have right now: So many, possibly, all of the feels. Someone believes in me. Someone noticed how hard I have been working. Someone cared enough to tell me. Do it today. Tell someone that you care. Tell them you noticed something they have been working hard on. it means more than you know.

 

The weekend is here and I am so ready.

Enjoy.

“Don’t take it so hard…

It’s a joke not a dick!”

Haha funny, yes because I’m a female and I take hard dicks hahaha you’re such a funny guy making jokes about ladies, you’re right, I like being the butt (or in this case the vagina) of jokes.

I’m pretty tired of hearing this. “It’s funny, just laugh” is not the same as “you know you want it, shhh just take it.” But… It definitely starts to make me nervous how similar it is.

For everyone thinking “this sensitive bitch can’t take a fucking joke! What a boring c-word.” Please know I’m funny, I like jokes, I can even laugh at generalized jokes and I can make fun of myself… But when the people I know, who I care about and feel love and respect for, start making jokes that make me feel like a low-class citizen, a sex object, or a non-human convenience to the opposite sex… I find it hard to fake a damn smile.

My apologies for not apologizing.

We are CONSTANTLY bombarded by images of women being sexulized, patronized, disregarded, disrespected, and degraded. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s blatant, sometimes it’s innocent and by accident, most of the times it’s obvious and implied. We are so desensitized to it that we don’t even recognize it anymore. When I point it out I’m the crazy one. But that is media. That’s expected. But what about those people on your FB that you just can’t delete because you knew them from “back in the day” and they were always decent enough to you and they always says happy birthday and their kids pics are super cute, why not be their friend? Because they keep liking and posting those posts… You know the ones.


Is it funny?

Yeah, to men and women who think they are DVD player.

I just roll my eyes, scroll past and try not to judge him. But come on!?

People are liking and commenting on this stuff and women are lol-ing so as to show that they are a”cool” girl…

But then there is me.

I’m thinking to myself: so women are like TVs? We are to sit quietly in the living room just waiting to entertain you with our bodies? Mute button so that I don’t get to talk or discuss anything? I am the maker of food? My boobs should be adjustable? We aren’t allowed to have PMS or clothes on? I’m an object you want to control?

Extreme thoughts? Maybe… But think about it. Jokes are only funny if they make sense within the context and society and others can relate and see the origin. The joke? Men want to control women, Women would be better if we could control them. Amirite!? Where is the joke there? I’m not laughing, because the fact that people are laughing shows that we are all subscribing to the fact that women being degraded is OK, therefore it’s funny.
Happy November! Time of turkey, and thanks and scraggly, wirey, pube-esque beards.

No I’m not a fan. But that’s my opinion. I know a bunch of guys that grow ’em and a ton of gals who love ’em. If you like beards I support you good sir/Madame…But you won’t see any memes from women saying they aren’t shaving their down-unders and guys cheering. You know that there aren’t any memes that women are posting about beards being unattractive or ruining humanity… Nope, because that would make us bitches! Men grow hair on their faces and it’s natural and sexy and we should all embrace it!

Weird, I have hair that grows naturally on my body too, but I don’t get a month where it is celebrated and I’m shamed if I don’t shave? I’m expected to think this is funny?

And then there is stuff like this…


Um? What? I think that this person is confused about what friendship is. I have a lot of friends that I’ve had for a long time that have never asked or needed to see my boobs to prove my friendship.

So because I’m a woman, and you know me, and we are friends, you expect me to let you see and touch my breasts and if I don’t you would tell me I’m not your true friend?  Hilarious! So funny! Good one.

Those examples are definitely sexist, degrading, and objectifying… But then there is this stuff that makes me cringe and touches a very personal nerve:

The picture is of a girl dancing with… Other girls. They are probably out celebrating someone’s achievement or maybe it was a long week and they want to blow off steam. They are in the circle that was barricading out creeps trying to “grind up on” them. No where is it depicting a girl riding a “cock-carousel” but I would like to see said amusement park ride. Points to the first person who can draw/render one.

But seriously! to society a girl who is “in her 30s now” and not married must be a slut who is now used-up, and deteriorating like a weathered OBJECT. There must be a reason why no one has saved her from her sad existence and settled down with her!
There’s no way that reason is because she focused on herself, her family, her friends. Definitely not because she put herself through college, busted her ass at a job to finally get that studio apartment she dreamed of since her womanizing ex told her she was nothing without a man. It’s definitely not because she chose to stay single, travel, pursue her music, and occasionally enjoy safe, consenting, sex with people she dated. It is not related to the fact that now that she’s stable and can provide for herself and has found out how to be happy and love herself she wants to share that love with someone else?

Nope. It’s definitely because she’s a whore, and that’s all she will ever be, and she would be so lucky if a man (unfortunately for him) loved her anyway.

These are the things I see EVERYDAY. I think these things EVERYDAY. And EVERYDAY I scroll past them, roll my eyes, and try to not hate people for what they find to be funny…

But it’s there and I’m here, and I’m not laughing, and I’m not sorry.

Why I’m The Worst.

I know…. its been like… forever since my last post. I’m the worst blah blah blah.

But I have some shit to say, so here:

Something that I keep seeing on the internetz. Picture: Woman/man holding up a white board or notebook paper or cardboard sign with “reasons why I’m a feminist” or “Why I need feminism.” Then they have a written reason.

(then all of the women-hating, feminist-bashing, assholes comment about how they are the worst blah blah blah)

Most of the signs they hold are well written and very true. They really do get you thinking about why. Why do I need feminism?

Lately I have been more open about my feminist views. I have been more apt to point out to others that the way they are talking is making me uncomfortable and is not nice to other people they care about. Needless to say, this has upset people. just a little comment makes people enraged and feel betrayed and angry. example:

I was hanging with a group of friends and they were talking about the comedy show they just went to see. I ignored the “funny for a girl” comment about Amy Schumer (you pick your battles), but they all agreed she was pretty funny… then one of them said “yeah but she has such fat arms” and they all started discussing her physical appearance… and this is the battle I picked.

“that’s rude.” I said simply and they immediately stopped and looked at me like I had told them they were all terrorists.

“Why!? her arms are fat and she isn’t attractive.”

“Why does that have anything to do with her being funny or a good comedian?”

No one answered me. The subject changed. I’m the crazy feminist now.

So I have some reasons I’ve been harboring for a while on why I myself specifically need feminism and why I myself think others benefit from it as well. These are real. these are no lie. So for any of you that can’t wait to jump on the comment section and tell me I’m exaggerating, whining, or that I’m the worst blah blah blah…please remember that you were not there, I’m not attacking you, if you’re feeling offended or guilty about these, maybe realize why, instead of projecting your anger and confusion on me.

Reasons I (and every woman and man) need feminism (other than because I don’t want to make anyone a sandwich who doesn’t deserve my delicious sandwiches…)

I was called a “fat ugly feminist” on FB as a retort to an educated, non-aggressive, comment I made about sexism.

Because my name is not: Holy tits, baby girl, sexy mami, sugar, darlin, hey baby… but men still yell these things at me on the street at night when I’m walking alone in the city I call my home.

Because you just thought to yourself “well you shouldn’t be walking alone at night” instead of “Those people are rude.”

Because when I decide to have sex with someone who I’m not in a relationship with, I’m seen as a slut, a whore, and easy.

Because when I decide I don’t want to have sex with someone, I “friend-zoned” them… because to them being my friend is not a valued relationship, but instead, a penalty.

Because when I have said “NO” to sex offers in the past some responses have been “you owe me” “but I was nice to you” “you know you want it” “I’m entitled to you” “I’ll pay you.”

Because when I tell other women about those responses, they say “well, you do kind of owe him” “well, he did buy you drinks.” “well, did you give him that impression?” “that’s how they are.” “they only want one thing” instead of “but you said NO, that should have been the end of it.”

Because when I preform with my music group of very talented people (both men and women), people come up to us after and tell the guys 100% of the time: “You sounded awesome, love the new songs!” But people tell me 60% of the time: “You looked so good up there! Love your outfit, you’re so pretty.”

Because a guy friend I’ve known my whole life laughed and told me matter of factly: “you’re not a feminist.”

Because I’m expected to laugh at rape jokes, and if I don’t, then I’m “a sensitive bitch with no sense of humor”

Because if you’re scared, weak, or not good enough, people call you a bitch, girl, pussy, and you’re told to Man-Up or get some balls.

Because my breasts, even fully covered, are publicly scrutinized, joked about, referenced, and even touched by friends, family, and strangers. Because they are “huge” I’m told to “put those things away” “jeez, those things are massive” “I see the girls are out to play” “I can’t stop staring” “what size are those things!?”

Because when I say I’m seriously considering a breast reduction because I have back pain guys say “NOOOOOO don’t do it, that would be a tragedy!” not “Oh man, sorry your back hurts.”

Because I was waiting for a cab and two strangers yelled from the outside dining area “hey baby, show us those tits!” and everyone outside the bar laughed and whooped and hollered and when I responded “first, show me your dicks,” and everyone looked away and acted like I was the drunk crazy person.

Because when I talk about how I want to buy a house/condo I don’t hear “oh nice, where are you looking” Instead I get “By yourself? Don’t you want to wait until you have a serious boyfriend?” “who is going to fix things?” “Make sure there’s a room for a nursery!”

Because I know so many creative, sensitive, thoughtful, men who are intelligent, aware, and compassionate human beings, and society tries to tell us that these men aren’t “real” men.

Because I know men who are respectful, and treat me as an equal, and revel in our sex-less friendship and try to understand my point of view even though its hard. They don’t deserve to be dumbed down and told that “boys will be boys” and men “can’t help themselves” and that they are animalistic and sexually hungry by nature.

Because men can be better than that.

Because I have to convince men (and women who are against it) that feminism helps them too. The fact that instead of viewing me as a human being with feelings and needs I am viewed as an enemy to Mankind, and I must try not to offend those who humiliate me and I must tread lightly around those who feel threatened by me asking to not be threatened by them.

Because there are women that wished they were treated as I am… because in their country (and sometimes even in this country) women are beaten, burned, raped, and killed for speaking out or doing what makes them happy, or simply for being a woman. They are treated like livestock, and are sold and used to barter for services.

Because there is a movement dedicated to telling me I don’t need feminism.

This list could be longer. I know this is just the tip of the ice berg in most cases and places, but lately these are the things that have been weighing me down. these are the reasons why “I am the worst” and they are the reason why I don’t care if you think I’m the worst or blah blah blah… I am a human and I will treat you like one if you treat me like one.

What is your Why?

Hey, Sexy!

My friends just left the bar for the next and I hadn’t closed my tab… so I was about 5 minutes behind them, heading out solo. Its cold. Its dark. I pause just outside the door to look at my phone and I can feel the looks and smiles being directed at from the cigarette-smoking guys just outside the club.  It feels kind of flirty but also makes me feel uneasy, I’m not looking for a guy tonight (or ever, really) I start up the sidewalk to the next destination that was just texted to me by my drunk boyfriend-clad friends. I’m away from the loud club in a quiet stretch of darkened windows and closed businesses and… alleys.

“Hey Sexy!” this phrase is shouted at me, and I am suddenly very aware of what I’m wearing. Wondering if it is really me this man is shouting at. I’m feeling naked now in my not-too-short sequined skirt with black tights and ankle boots. My hair is curled. My hands are deep in the pockets of my Pea coat, and I’m looking straight ahead trying not to make eye contact with this group of men standing against the outside wall of a sketchy little downtown drinking establishment.

“Hey SEXY! I’m talking to you!” I pick up my pace a bit and become frightfully aware that this is noticeable by the sound of my heels against the cobblestone. My heart feels like it is now keeping time with my quickened walking pace. I’ve noted now, that I’m afraid.

“SEXY! Why won’t you at least come talk to me? COME ON, SEXY!?” He’s yelling, offended now, and leans out from his wall in disbelief that I’m not acknowledging him. I ignore him with every fiber of my being. His bros are laughing and whistling. I am now walking passed these men and I am nearing the safety zone of a well lit establishment with a bouncer and other people who would hopefully defend me if these guys decided to do anything.

“Whatever, fucking BITCH…Go home and just be a lonely cunt forever!”

That is the last thing I hear before locking eyes with a couple walking towards me, I’m desperate to be engaged with anyone other than those men shouting at me, but they show no interest in my existence. I’m alone, on the street, and I feel like I have been undressed, degraded, and personally singled out and attacked… for being a woman? Wearing a skirt? Walking alone? I feel guilty, and angry, and confused.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This weekend was the first time that has ever happened to me in IRL. I have had the misfortune of being completely degraded and harassed on dating website message services, but never in person.  I have heard the stories of friends and other people living in bigger more diverse cities, and on other people’s blogs and articles, so I thought I would be intrigued when this finally happened, I thought it would be interesting, maybe I might even like it… I never knew that this is how it would feel to be “cat-called”. This weekend was an interesting learning experience. When it happened, it was not welcomed. It was not a compliment. It was not friendly.  Even now, just typing this, I feel the heat creeping up my neck to my cheeks. I’m so angry that I feel helpless and victimized. In that moment I wanted to turn around and yell something like “Does your mother know you talk to women like that!? Do you ever get girls like that!? Is your dick really that small!?” But I didn’t. I didn’t, because I was afraid, afraid that I would get harassed further, that he and his bros might threaten me or hurt me, or worse… rape me.

I was afraid of being raped.

When I got to the next bar I casually told my friends what had just happened, someone replied “Well that’s what you get for walking alone.” (That’s what I get for… existing?) Later that weekend, someone else I told immediately inquired about what I was wearing. I described my classy winter going-out style and got: “Well, yeah! What did you think would happen!?” (So I shouldn’t wear skirts or exist?) Only ONE of my friends immediately replied with disgust saying, “Wow, what a bunch of douchebags, I’m glad you’re ok, that must have been scary.” (THANK YOU!)

No one wanted to really talk further about this, it was uncomfortable for them, some of them admitting that they actually wished that it would happen to them, because it would be nice to be “noticed.” Some of them (men) didn’t seem to care that this happened at all and just said “Huh, weird.” Yeah, REALLY WEIRD, and by weird, I mean unacceptable, disgusting, degrading, and perverted.

Why are people not appalled by this? Do I really live in a world where a person (woman) can’t walk down the street alone without expecting to be harassed? Do I live in a world where people shame others for being surprised that this happened, and try to make them feel guilty and somehow responsible for their own harassment because they chose to wear a skirt in public? Is it really accepted that being called “sexy” (or mami, baby, big-tits etc) as a “greeting” by strangers is OK and should be welcomed as a compliment? Should I be obligated to stop and talk to every sexually-driven male who calls out to me in the street? Do I deserve to be called a lonely cunt when I don’t reciprocate?

  1. NO. NO.

But no one thinks twice about this usually because “it’s just the way it is.”

Why?

Because we live in a society where women are told their whole lives:

“Dress modestly so you don’t draw unwanted attention.”

“Don’t walk alone at night.”

“Just ignore them, and don’t provoke them.”

“Don’t get raped.”

Men live in a society where they aren’t told to do anything… they hear what women are told and they assume:

“If a woman is showing her legs or shoulders, ‘she is asking for it’.”

“If a girl is walking alone, she is a weak target.”

“A woman knows better than to say anything or fight back to a man.”

“Women are responsible for not getting raped.”

Am I mad at men?

No.

It’s not anyone’s fault. But it is EVERYONE’s problem… and it is a problem which is part of a very large crazy-scarier problem: Women are still oppressed. We are still the “lesser sex”. We are still viewed as objects existing in a Man’s world.

You’re thinking…. “No, that’s bullshit, women get to vote, and work, and wear whatever they want! They get to hold public office, and are allowed to do everything men can do!!  You’re just a crazy whining feminist on her period.” It’s ok, I’m used to that response, no offense taken, you’re not there yet and its ok, you can’t change your mind overnight.

But here is what I have to say: Women shouldn’t have to “get” to do anything or be “allowed” to do anything. We just are, We just do. We are people and no one should be in charge of what we “get” to do.

See? It is subtle, it is ingrained, it is taught and it is perpetuated DAILY and goes unnoticed by people who don’t realize they are oppressing or being oppressed. No need to be defensive, or guilty, or angry that you’re being “called out” because everyone does it. I do it. But does that mean its OK? NO.

Can we all try and see it and fix it and change it? YES.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“

An hour after this incident, I decided to walk a few blocks (by myself) to meet my brother at another place. I was feeling confident that this stretch of city was a little safer than the last, so off I went. A block from my destination, I saw a man coming towards me. His stance seemed confident and he was tall and strong-looking, and I began to feel the fight or flight mechanism gearing up. I replayed the earlier events and words in my head and I felt a sudden urge to run across the street so as to avoid him and any possible harassment he may offer. Was this how I was always going to feel from now on when encountering men alone? Should I?

Now only feet away, my heart was racing, I’m feeling afraid and regretting not taking a cab. I look up trying to stare right through him as if he does not exist.

“Ma’am, be careful up that way, it’s really icy…have a good night.” He says, never slowing down, with a polite nod and genuine smile.

“Thank you… you too.”

Just a Secretary

A few months ago I was on lunch and found myself at Shaw’s so I could grab a salad and a bag of chips. I’m at the checkout when the young-20-something male bagger noticed my work name badge and asked what I do for work. “I’m a secretary.” So begins what I’m sure he meant to be a cordial interaction.

“Ooooh, so you’re a secretary huh?” he says with a creepy smile and smugness.

“Yes, I work up the road at a medical practice.” I say to him trying to show as little interest for this conversation as possible without being rude.

“So like, what? You bring the doctors their coffee?” He says, laughing and looking around to see if anyone thinks he is as funny as he thinks he is. Usually in years past I would have quipped with something like “No I just answer the phones.” and then laugh at myself with him. This time however, I felt that sting, and heard the degrading connotation and it fueled a need for a response that would rendered him embarrassed, speechless, or maybe even angry.

I looked him right in the eye, and pleasantly proclaimed, “No, actually the doctor buys me coffee, and I manage his schedule, and his patient’s insurance claims so that he gets paid. I also work 10 hour days and make sure that we have all the supplies needed to run the practice, as well as answering phones. Oh, and I don’t need a bag for those.” I then curtly smiled, took my receipt and walked away feeling somewhat proud of standing up for my position and worth.

that feeling lasted a few seconds because then the questions start rolling in my mind: Is that what people think a secretary does? Bring people coffee? (as a side note, coffee is not a joke or something to take lightly, so if there is someone bringing/serving you coffee, they are an important person and deserve your respect!) Maybe the title he was looking for was a “waitress.”  That brings up a whole different issue of political correctness, which I will save for another post at a later date. Quickly though, I’m technically SUPPOSED to be called an “Administrative Professional” and Waitress/Waiter should be “Wait Staff” or “Server”, and the bagger that assumed I was a waitress should be called a “Customer Service Associate.” (side note: I used to be a bagger when I was in high school. It’s not an easy job and it is more than bagging groceries, so I am in no way, downplaying the importance/need of his job.)

Was I threatening him in some way that he felt the need to try and belittle me in front of others to feel bigger, better, faster, stronger? Did he think that he was God’s gift to women in that green polo and apron, and that I would be flattered by his interest in my lowly career? Did he truly just not understand that a secretary isn’t a personal servant? I don’t know, and I only slightly care, because I get that response a lot when I tell people, especially men, that I’m a secretary. (I tried telling people that I was an administrative assistant for a while, but they would just laugh and say “So you’re a secretary?” [eye-roll]).

Do I KNOW now that I’m more than just a secretary? Yes. My actual title with my company is Secretary Supervisor Senior. I know the job I do is important to my staff and to our patients. I understand the demand for someone who can answer phones, book appointments, and deal with a belligerent patient who doesn’t understand why their insurance isn’t covering the cost of their services. Do I wear a pencil skirt and heels? You bet.  Do I supervise others with compassion, and order Office-Max like a boss, and file faxes in a perfected folder system? Of course. Do others see it this way? Rarely. Because “I’m just a secretary.”

I used to be guilty of saying that phrase when I first started as a secretary with out supervisor skills. I don’t know if it was my own confidence lacking, society’s view on women in the work place, or what I let others tell me I was subconsciously, but I referred to myself as “just the secretary” when people asked me about what I did. Sometimes if I was on the phone with a patient and they would ask me a clinical question, I would respond with “I wouldn’t know that, I’m just the secretary.” I never found any harm in this and I never thought twice about this until one day my Practice Manager was visiting and overheard me say this. After I hung up with the patient, she poked her head around my desk partition and gave me a very stern look. I could feel myself shrink, knowing I was about to be “talked to” about something… but then she said something that I will always remember, and I credit it as a turning point in how I view my own and other’s worth and value.

“You are not JUST a secretary! So you don’t have medical knowledge?  That means you’re NOT a doctor but you ARE a secretary, and that is JUST as important.”

coming from a professional, powerful, confident, woman, her words really spoke to me. It made me think about what that phrase really conveyed to others and how I let them view me and how I viewed myself before. I was basically saying, “Heather, lets be serious… you’re a secretary, you do the most cliched women’s-job there is, you sit around answering phones, taking messages, and filing papers all day, big deal? No one cares. You’re not a nurse, or a teacher, or a business woman… you’re just a secretary.”

Now I know that I’m more than my job title. I’m more than what society thinks I should be, I decide what I do, and I choose to be a secretary because I love my job. I get to help people everyday and those people respect me and I respect them. I’m lucky to have a great office to work in.

I’ve decided to “take back” the word “secretary.”  I decided to name my blog “I’m Just a Secretary” because it reminds me of what state of mind I came from, and maybe others will identify with it and read something that changes their minds about the way we think about others and ourselves.

We are all not JUST anything. You ARE. I AM. And that is important.

But what do I know? I’m Just a Secretary!

What do I know?

I’m Heather.

I’m a single, 28 year old, woman, working as a full time secretary. I am a taxpaying renter in a one person household living in NH. Those are my stats according to the US government.

According to me: I’m a sassy, cynical, educated realist, who can find the humor in any situation. I am emotional but aware. I give great advice but can’t seem to apply it in my own life. I love wine, my cat, the sound of crickets, and stupid TV dramas. I don’t like being told what to do, unless it is someone’s job to do so. I argue and love with the same level of passion. I’m inappropriate, not “lady-like”, and blunt. I don’t care if you don’t like me. I like me enough for the both of us, and if you think that is conceited or bitchy, go back to the part where I don’t care.

So without further ado, lets get into the nitty gritty here: I’m entitled to my opinions here, because I believe that out in the career and social world, you should keep most of your opinions at bay, unless someone’s opinions are also being directed at you in an offensive manner, but lets be serious here: No one likes a hostile work environment or a ruined dinner party. But this is the internet… it’s all fair game, right?

I often find myself needing to write, or hypothesize, or at least record what I see or hear on a daily basis. So, I decided to do what every “crazy bitch who has an opinion” does…

I’m writing a blog.

This is for me mostly, and, if along the way, someone finds it (somehow) and it makes them laugh, think, or click [x] with a disgusted look on their face, then that is fine too.

You will find here anecdotes, ideas, thoughts, opinions, and jokes from and about daily life that may or may not include: Dating adventures and the single world, feminist humor and insight, things people say to me, current topics and pictures I find funny, entertaining, enthralling, disgusting, terrible, or annoying. I swear sometimes, because sometimes “fuck” is the only thing appropriate to convey my feelings… I have feelings, and I will occasionally talk about my cat, the weather, and what wine I’m currently obsessed with…because I can, because ‘Murica and freedom and girl power!

But, I’m just a secretary, what do I know?