She was murdered by Jerry Seinfeld!

Today I completed my mission.  The child I’m mentoring fascinates me.  She makes me feel intellectually challenged sometimes, she’s so brilliant.  Who knew that would make me so happy.  I’ve given her information, encouragement, tools, and my time.  I’m so glad I learned Spanish.  My fluency level is lacking, but she helps.  I understand another aspect of being a parent from this experience.  I comprehend the desire to give your child everything you can, and still, want to give more.   I get that deciding what’s appropriate to give a child is rocket science.  I feel the desire to make her life easier, and the restraint necessary to allow her to grow.

I’m practically drunk on joy right now.  I also got a bag of Skittles for May Day, which made it better.  And on top of all that, there’s some sort of construction going on in the parking lot, and I have a front row seat on my balcony.  There are at least three yellow tracked vehicles parked out there, along with lots of safety cones and a yellow tape perimeter.  They used a huge scoop loader to dig a giant hole.  It felt like we were experiencing an earthquake when they repeatedly smashed the teeth into the ground to break through the top layer.  It was really cool.  It reminded me of what it feels like to be near an M1 tracked vehicle when it fires.  (The first time I experienced it, I immediately started crying, as it scared the shit out of me, and probably took a few years off my life expectancy.)

In basic training, you go to what’s virtually the Army showing off some of her weapons.  One of them is an M1 Abrahms.  They warn in advance to put in ear protection and brace for a loud sound.  They don’t warn of the ground shaking, and loud is not a sufficient word for the sound it makes.  The oddest thing was later when I was stationed in Germany, I lived in barracks near a range where they fired so often, everyone stopped noticing.  We could always tell who was new because they were the ones who still jumped when they fired.  The human ability to adjust fascinates me so much.

I’m pleased the child who did incredibly well on my test and fit my criteria resides in Mexico (no additional cost to text.)  I was honestly expecting a kid from India.  It’s probably because so many of my colleagues are Indian.  At first, I was glad she’s a girl.  Then I realized it was a knee-jerk gladness.  So I told myself off for being an asshole.  I’m so used to encouraging girls to pursue STEM interests, and I didn’t take the time to think it through.  Yes, sexism is cancer on society.  But swinging from one extreme to another is not problem-solving, it’s time wasting.  So now I encourage humans to pursue STEM interests.  Gender identification is in the agonizing process of overcoming vast ignorance.  I know what it feels like to be treated like shit, and I very much want to prevent others from experiencing that feeling because of me.

I feel really light knowing I accomplished what I intended.  I’ll admit, the first thought that occurred was, “I can die now.”  It probably sounds macabre, but it’s just accurate.  I suppose it’s like realizing you don’t have any regrets.  I think this is a symptom of being over 40 years old.  Frankly, I’m amazed I still exist.  I’ve had some close calls, but I bounce back like I’m made of rubber.  Eventually, that is.  I’m slow rubber.  I’ve steered clear of sharing a lot of my history on this blog.  I haven’t shared about my relationships with people who are currently alive.   I haven’t shared much about my adulthood.  (I might change this policy now.)  I only count the second half of my service as part of my adulthood.

The first year was mostly me getting screamed at,  doing pushups, KP, digging deep holes, and filling them back in to develop a filter between my brain and mouth, (and unlearn eye rolling.)  I hate to admit it, but I was a total dick when I was a teenager.  I seriously thought I was more intelligent than everyone else and therefore superior, and behaved accordingly.  I kinda want to go back in time and punch myself in the face.  But I know it wouldn’t have helped matters.  Sigh.  It would make me feel better about it, though.  In the Army, I learned lots about human intellect.  Mainly, I learned we suck at measuring intelligence in others.  The IQ test only measures a small slice of data.  A superior IQ is overrated.  The only thing it seems to guarantee is mental illness.  Some have high intelligence in areas that earn money, plus the drive and personality to succeed financially.  Unfortunately, that often means sociopaths climb highest.  America rewards sociopathic behavior.  It’s all Hunger Games.

I no longer hold much faith in humanity (regarding our ability to value human life.)  Our society is tailored to appreciate the white man who has the most money above all other humans.  No other criteria matters anymore.  Raping women and children doesn’t lower his value.  Nothing he says or does can reduce his value in our society.  It’s fucking twisted.  It leaves me feeling like an alien without a ship to get home.  I recently realized I’m isolating.  I don’t socialize any longer.  I’ve been so focused.  I don’t plan to pursue it again.  I guess I’m feeling tremendous relief.  I can die now.  I’m done.  (Of course, I’m not rushing to get a helium tank to smurf off.)  I’m going to get rid of more stuff until I have only what I need.  It will have to fit in my car, so need will probably be redefined until I meet that goal.  Then I’m out of here.  I’m going to quit my job and go look at all the cool stuff on this continent.  I’m going to chase The Shiny because I’m fucking done.  Yay.