Can I just have a few minutes of your time….

heheh.

Oh. Oh I’m eeeeeeevil. hehehe.

Yeah, so. My nursing class today was…a nursing class, instead of Clinical which it will be next week. So we only had class from 8-950 (a surprise to us all- we thought she was going to teach until 1, which is when Clinical would’ve been over. woohoo) So. And my other Tuesday class doesn’t start til October. So. That’s why I’m home at a quarter til 11. I have a whole To-Do list to accomplish, one of which includes going to financial aid and hoping with every cell in my body (of which I have more than 60 thousand billion? is that a number? My nsg instructor thinks it is.) that I will be receiving aide this semester.

Anyways. But I stopped at home first, cuz in my rush this morning (funny how, when I wake up an hour earlier than my alarm, I always end up leaving the house late. Then again, I leave the house late no matter when I wake up…) Anyhow- in my rush, I had forgotten my phone. So I wanted to stop by home and pick that up. Wee. I’m glad I did. Cuz as I sat here checking my email quick before heading back out, who should call but….The United States Army!!!

Oh, how I love to talk to them. Not ONLY do they all congregate at my door (i live above the recruiting office, lucky me…) and leave cigarette butts EVERYwhere, but now they’re ALSO compelled to call me!! Oh happy day.

Well. Instead of being snippy and hanging up on the guy right away, I let him go thru his whole schpeal (there’s a 3 point plan. 2 military, 1 non-military because “Ya know, the military’s changed and we know it’s not for everyone…not everyone is going to join…”) He wanted to sit down with me, to “formulate a plan, in writing, in order to help me acheive my goals.” How sweet.

I let him go thru his little speech and then I was like hmmm. Ya know, that’d be great. Except, you don’t want me, cuz I’m a lesbian. Silence. “uh. oh. well. Everyone’s gotta do what they gotta do…” yup. “But let me ask you this, do you know anyone else who would be interested in 65 thousand dollars and a definite plan for life…” *silently “thinks” for a few minutes* Hmmm. Well. Nope. Not anyone who’s not gay. “Oh. Okay. Well. You have a nice day then.” You too. Click.

Ok. First. Everyone’s gotta do what they gotta do… What the hell’s that s’posed to mean? lol. He made it sound like…like a burden or a task that I had to accomplish even tho I didn’t want to. Granted, some people feel that way, I’m sure. I’m not one of those people! No one holds a gun to my head and demands that I “act on my tendencies” or whatever. No one welded this rainbow necklace around my neck. Nobody forces me to hold AJ’s hand and kiss hermmm, i miss her kissesssssss! I could, prolly very easily, keep myself closeted. (I say easily, but I only mean that in a…physical or societal sense? Mentally it would quite possibly be the end of me. Social identity groups, the need for belonging and all that jazz…) I don’t ‘choose’ to be a dyke. I don’t really even ‘choose’ to act like one. I just. I just kind of act. Or. I just kind of live. Perhaps choosing unconsciously alot. Moreso now than “before I was gay.”

And SECOND. Did he honestly think I was going to give him the names and numbers of people he could call up and bother next? Does he not realize that he’s just about as close to a telemarketer as they come, without actually being paid by a telemarketing company??

Sure, in my last entry I spouted off about how I’d prolly thrive in a communal community living type place. Which, I s’pose the army is certainly that. No autonomy, nothing is really yours except what you can fit in your pocket mostly, everything is shared.

That’s not the community I was talkin’ about. :p I think I’d rather join a cult (a cult that didn’t cause anyone any harm) than the army. If I’m gonna shave my head and wear the same colour clothes as everyone around me, I’d sure as hell rather do it for some weirdass inane belief than for the united states army.

Oops, there I go again. Being unpatriotic. *shrugs* Someone has an email .sig- maybe J? that says something about loving the country and therefore insisting on the right to criticize it. I s’pose I’d hafta agree with that. *shrugs* But you can bet if there’s a draft instituted for women, I’ll be hauling ass to Canada. In the words of Alix Olson….”I’d rather die laying in the heat of a fuck I call mine than in the fuckin’ line of duty you’ve made mine…”

Oh. I think I need to post the whole piece. Just because.

[dear mr. president]
©2001 Alix Olson.

Dear Mr. President:
I don’t wanna be in your military, I don’t wanna bury my own kind. I wanna make up my own mind about who I hate, not what the national slate has in mind; you see, the american interest is rarely in mine. And I’ve got my own wars to wage. I don’t need to engage in your war for oil overseas, (in-between my lover’s legs is slick enough for me).

I’m the lesbian minority, see, so I don’t need a major to tell me what to be or who to do things to somewhere across the pacific. My sex is too specific to report to a general.

And in general, dykes don’t respond to commands, so why do we demand
to be a part of this irrational masculine swarmy that poses as a national army? See, I’ve seen armies:

seen ‘em on picket lines, welfare lines,
seen ‘em storming the Capitol,
storming the streets,
demanding justice and peace.
I’ve heard of armies in history,

in Birmingham, in Montgomerey.

But these dressed-to-kill boys with their made-to-kill toys
these yellow ribbons that choke trees, please,
it’s a joke, a sadistic display of militaristic play that ends in
american dreams for the owners of both teams– and who suffers? who buffers the attack? Who lacks the cash to decline the invitation to the nation’s most expensive party? Those hearty boys promised schooling, then sent on their way to collect their pay from the grave.

well, this gay don’t mind being war-depraved, honey, we can fight for more than big boys and their money:

I’d rather fight phil knight, bomb all his bonds
I’d rather wage a gay crusade on the pope,
grope my girl in front of his nose.
I’d rather pose a problem to disney,
expose michael eisner as a meiser,
mickey mouse as leader of the rat race–
just slice right down that rodent’s face.
and it’s a disgrace to be a rapist
of developing nations
when we can’t stop the rape
of developing girls.
I’d rather unfurl an attack
on our money guzzling undercover
embezzling enemies-
imprisoning just us with no dollar power
impersonating justice
from their donald trump tower
with their billion dollars trillion crimes

waging their personal war on the poor
for more power in this world of
ABC NBC CBS — this country runs from
CEO to shining CEO,
Sending us across the ocean for the promotion
of their cash-devotion ideology.

well, I don’t desire your superstar badge of bravery for enduring modern-day slavery in your maniacally economically-driven death trap. Anyway, I’d give the U.S a bad rap. I’d kiss every fine iraqi dyke on the front line, fuck national pride, I’d go to their side– i prefer crossnational desire to crossfire anyway.

and i don’t need your fatigue uniforms to perform my battles. (I’m wearing layers of tired just from battling the liars of our system every day.) And my Dear Mr. President: I’d rather die, lyin’ in the heat of a fuck I call mine than in the fuckin’ line of duty you’ve made mine.

but, fine, it’s the new big thing to demand inclusion in your land-intrusion ethic-free military, to request same-sex affirmative action to de-factionalize who dies in your money-for-the-man C-span cam scam, lost-and-found game
you call WAR–where we get to lose our lives when you’ve found what’s worth more, well, when this dyke goes down,
she’ll go down
knowing
what
it’s for.