Dont Mince Words

Did you hear that?  It’s my labia clapping because I’m leaving Santa Barbara.  My days in the land of college students and retirees are ending which means my dating life will come off life support.

I can laugh about dating in Los Angeles, but Santa Barbara has been the worst experience in my adult life.  There’s a handful of age- and height-appropriate men.  Toss in education and I’ve got about six men in a 30-mile radius I could date.  There are a fair share of freaks here too.  I can honestly say I was approached by two, yes 2, cross-dressers who liked my online profile because I looked “fun and open-minded.”  As much as it would be awesome to have someone to do my makeup, I can’t date anyone that has better legs than me.  My other notable experience was dating an old guy.  It was my first experience in the presence of Viagra.  I never thought I’d ever say “oh, no, not again” while in bed, but I know now that I’d rather be sawed in half by a drunk guy.  At least you know he’s going to eventually puke or pass out.

My layoff has prompted drastic life changes.  I’ve decided to move back to Richmond, Virginia – a town I left more than 15 years ago to begin my post-divorce “I want to experience everything tour.”  Now I’m going back because I need to be surrounded by good friends and enjoy a sensible cost of living.  And dating?  Yeah, I’ll get back on that horse.  It can only get better.

The Pentagon, south parking view

Thirty years ago today I started the best job of my life.

Several months before the end of high school, my parents convinced me that I should enter a lottery to get a summer government job.  They both had served and felt it would be a great way for me to lock into a good, secure job that I could possibly come to after college graduation.  I wasn’t sure about that, but I was sure I couldn’t spend another summer working as a secretary at the ophthalmologist’s office.

The lottery was random.  You didn’t know what government agency you’d get or what functional division.  I just knew the pay, GS-4, which was $6.18 an hour, was much better than my $5 an hour office job.  And all of this beat minimum wage which was $3.35 at the time.

The lottery letter came.  I was sure I was going to get something boring like Department of Agriculture, or worse, Taxation.  But the return logo was the U.S. Air Force.  I was selected to be a Pentagon intern working for the Secretary of the Air Force, Office of Public Affairs, in the Media Relations division.

During the next four years, while on college breaks, my writing was sharpened.  My work at the Pentagon actually helped me select my major, English, and later my master’s, Mass Communications.  I wrote press releases, talking points, and prepped spokespeople for media.  I learned about spies, whistleblowers, and crisis communications.  I managed the early work on the B-2 “Stealth” bomber rollout.  The guys taught me about life-work balance as well.  My softball team position was first base cooler.  I proudly made office beer runs, rolling my keg-on-dolly past Pentagon tours.  The early-to-mid 1980s was a crazy time to be working in defense with all the contract awards and changing news cycles.  I was always learning and laughing.

My internship never evolved into a full-time, permanent job due to budget cuts.  But I did gain a professional network of mentors.  I learned so much, gained more responsibility with each project, and was recognized for my achievements.

In my lifetime, I have yet to have a professional experience that matches what I got working for the Air Force. I’m still connected to many of the officers I worked with.  While they remember me as their little intern, I remember them as the men that shaped my life.  I am proud I got to serve.  Thanks for making me a winner.

I completed my graduate degree at night while working a full-time job during the day.  When I finished, I didn’t read for a year.  No books, no newspapers, no magazines.  I was so burnt out from school, it was my way to detox and feel in control of my free time.  Since then, I’ve taken classes to meet people with similar interests.  I even registered to start pre-law classes at John Jay, but withdrew after 9/11.

Now online ed/distance learning is the thing and I’m back in a corporate environment that makes you create personal “development” goals.  It’s all monkeyspank, I know.  Anyone that knows me, knows I can personally develop by changing vibrator attachments.  But whatever, I’ll play the game.

I registered for a six-week brand writing class and let me tell you, I’m through with school and admit I’m too old for this shit:  homework deadlines, people that ask dumb questions, and professors that have less professional experience than me.

Deadlines and stupid people?  I can just work late.  I’m back to getting my education through books, documentaries, and life experience.