Living with the Gorillas

On Thanksgiving night I saw that if you live with the gorillas long enough, they forget you are a woman. I stayed until the end of the party in a lounge full of men. And I was fortune enough to witness the bickering alcohol brings. One old, serious veteran and one stupid young Fire Fighter got into it over the definition of terrorism. The veteran stormed out of the lounge. The Fire Fighter looked around for someone else to fight with and eventually left.

Soon after, a disagreement arose around the rules of Cut Throat . . . the pool game. Another man stormed out over the non-win-able argument. The other two had tense moments. "Ok. You won. Fine!"

It was fascinating.

Tonight, the smallest man among them, stormed in to overthrow the Stitch and Bitch, a gathering of women once a week that seem to, all at the same time, fascinate and terrorize the men on station. The interloper is also a Fire Fighter (can we see the theme?) whom I threw out of the lounge last week. We have the lounge reserved and he couldn't read, and we threw him and his movie out when it was time for Stitch and Bitch. Tonight? He and his cronies came trundling in to purposely disrupt us at 9:15. What a strong and capable man! I now quake in the light of his powerfulness!

What is it about a group of women that men can't stand?

What is it about men who embrace Emergency Response?

What is it about men and alcohol and arguments and stupid shit?

What fun . . . living with the gorillas. So educational.

Piggy Tails

I didn't know. I didn't know there was a power to the pig tail. My hair is long enough now, for the first time in years, where I can wear it in pig tails. And holy heavens. Men of all ages and backgrounds are quivering. When they see me the only thing they can say is "Pig tails, heh heh heheh." Guys I barely know are coming up behind me and pulling them.

My friend told me. She said, "Oh yeah. Guys like the pig tails. You'll see."

And you know what?

She's right.

I never did know they had such power over men.

Quiet Evening

I wrote this many days ago . . maybe Tuesday? Maybe Wednesday?

*******************

It is 1:32 a.m. and I have been awake forever. The planes broke all day and the passengers just, just came in. Holy cow. But waiting in a group . . . all of us waiting . . . it was a small little wonderful example of the place.

I was CRABBY at dinner. Pissed that I had to stay up forever and meet the plane. Exhausted from yesterday's late arrival. And my dearest friend here smiled and invited me to Stitch and Bitch. It's where girls gather, knit and gab. We had the lounge reserved from 7:00 p.m.

I went and it was WONDERFUL. My dearest friend was the only one knitting so tonight it was renamed Bitch and Stitch. C from the galley, J from IT, M from Waste, Dearest Friend and myself were the primary gals there until 9:00 p.m. We just talked and laughed and gossiped about good looking boys. Around 9:00 p.m. volleyball got out and the boys joined us. B from NOAA and the most wonderful Dr. B -- Good God, he's gorgeous. C from FEMC came as well. And there we sat . . . after a while the gals pealed off . . . they weren't waiting for the plane.

And all night I sat in a really comfortable couch and talked with people I love.

That is the magic of this place.

I was very careful to feel grateful for it. Just chatting and drinking water and laughing and being with these most wonderful people. For hours.

And the feeling of duty. We had to work . . . stay up and work and welcome the new and make sure they could breathe.

No matter what . . . I have a great job. I love this place. I love the people and I love the program. Fuck the pain . . . fuck the Ship Of Fools . . . fuck the client and their complete mismanagement . . . fuck the Mothership . . . I love this place and I love the people.

And now it's 2:08 a.m . . . the pain of tomorrow . . .two more flights of people . . . 65 total.

Welcome to summer.