Wednesday, January 26, 2011

My First MEPS Experience and How Stupid I Was


     I arrived at the recruiter’s around 1400 or 2:00pm.  I filled out a few pieces of paperwork, and then he questioned me again about the hot topic questions.  He did this in the hopes I would not suddenly reveal something at MEPS  (haha yeah…that didn’t work…).  After this I waited for him to finish his own work, and we headed out to the hotel around 1600. 

What to bring to MEPS:
                -ID and Social Security Card
                -Any forms or documents your recruiter told you to bring
                -Change of clothes (x2 if you’re there for two nights)
                -Pajamas or something to sleep in
                -Toiletries
                -Contact lens case, contact solution (or just bring and wear your glasses)
                -A book to beat the boredom
                -Change for a snack or drink from a vending machine
                -Cell phone (though there are specific rules for where you can have a cell phone)

     For the rest of My MEPS Experience, Advice about whether or not to withhold information, and a video of the Duck Walk click "Read More" or read below.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Off to MEPS and Hoping for the Best

     The roommate and I woke up early and headed to the recruitment office.  As soon as we walked in, my recruiter ushered us to the back room.  He had me initial every answer I jotted down on my pre-screening medical form and signed the form.  I had to check and sign a tattoo form for the single tattoo I have: a moment of planned impulsivity much like my choice to join the military.  A few other forms and then the recruiter gave me the hard truth.
     Across all the services (perhaps this is true, perhaps this isn’t) there are no medical spots for females and in at least my service there haven’t been for four/five weeks.  So that’s the bad news.  However the recruiter and his boss and his bosses’ boss are trying their hardest to get me this job.  Their plan of attack?  They are going to send me to MEPS to get my physical done without a job.  They hope that by showing my commitment to follow through with the physical (having high ASVAB scores and a college degree doesn’t hurt) the higher ups will feel pressured to give me the job I want.  The jobs do exist; they’re just reserved for those already in the military, and not those initial entry slobs like me.
     My recruiter said I had about an 80-85% chance of getting the job.  What will happen if I don’t get the job is that after I pass the physical, they’ll send me to the job counselor.  He/She will try and convince me to take another job.  I don’t have to accept a thing.  If I don’t choose anything, I simply go home.  Then the recruiter and I will simply wait for the job to become available.  At the very least I will have taken the physical and gotten it out of the way.  Then when the job does pop up, the recruiter will jump on it.  All I’ll have to do is go into the MEPS station, sign and take the oath of enlistment.

QBP: "Luck is what you have left over after you give 100 percent." -Langston Coleman

This could be me tomorrow.

 

Monday, January 24, 2011

The ASVAB, TAPAS, and why being a girl sucks right now

 Second installment of the "Hey wow I'm enlisting in the military!" series.   


     My roommate dropped me off at the recruiting office, and after a few questions and instructions we were off to take the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery).  Making sure I had no weapons, my driver’s license and my social security card we drove over to the federal building housing MEPS and ASVAB testing in our area.  We went through a metal detector and went up to our floor.  Apparently the recruiters can only go so far, so soon I was on my own.  I handed over my paperwork, showed off my license and social, signed in (felt embarrassed because I didn’t know my recruiter’s name) and got a binder of general info/rules.   Then I sat and chilled and watched Sportscenter in a waiting area.
   

Thursday, January 20, 2011

The Recruitment Experience

     I walked into the recruitment office with my roommate as moral support.  I told her she didn’t have to come, but she was curious about the process.  As soon as we walked in a recruiter ushered us to the back room. 
     He sat me and my roommate down and asked me a lot of questions.  Active versus Reserve?  Field of interest?  Educational experience?  Married?  Kids?  Any medical issues?  Legal issues?  Issue issues?  When he was satisfied, he answered my questions.  With a college degree what level would I be entering at?  E-4.  What about the loan repayment program?  Availability depends on the MOS (Military Occupational Specialty or Job).  How long is the wait between MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station – where you get your physical, job counseling, and take the oath of enlistment) and Basic?   Anywhere from a couple of weeks to 3-5 months.  Depends on your MOS.
     He was surprised to hear I haven’t gotten a speeding ticket.  I wasn’t.  When you don’t own a car or drive, it’s hard to get speeding tickets.  He also asked me in a whisper (so quiet that I had to ask him to repeat his question) when the last time I smoked weed was.   I told him never, which is true.  I’m pretty straight laced.  (It made me wonder what he would say if you did smoke weed.  MEPS can read drugs in your urine up to 45 days.  So I guess he would delay the MEPS visit until your urine was clean if he was a nice guy or hard up for recruits.)  I asked him how many women he saw in ratio to men.  He said about 1:10, or 1:15.  Though “more women are coming in lately”.  The last thing I wondered, to myself, was how colorful everyone’s language was.  I mean I get it.  Military folk equals colorful language, but in a recruiter’s office I guess I expected everyone to be on their best behavior.  They were extremely polite otherwise.
     I told him I wanted to become a combat medic.  Apparently everyone and their age appropriate buff grandfathers either want medical field or military police right now.  They guarantee jobs to recruits based on ASVAB scores, passing the physical, but most importantly availability.  The recruiter’s next step was to have me take a practice ASVAB test, which had four sections: word knowledge, arithmetic reasoning, paragraph comprehension, and mathematics knowledge.  (The actual test has nine sections.)  A couple of the arithmetic reasoning questions gave me pause since they’re basically math word problems, but I ended up with a 96 out of 99.  Potential recruits usually score within 5 points of the practice.  My recruiter said he thought I might get a 99 on the real thing. 
     The recruiter said they don’t often see such a high score.  To be able to enlist you just need a 31, but it’s good I had a strong score.  When jobs are as popular as the one I want to do, having a high ASVAB score gives me a better chance at getting that job.  Also my recruiter says he “has the hook up” on job selection, so that seems promising.  He said if he couldn’t get me that one, he would try for “bigger and better things” such as the really competitive medical jobs.  The whole point of this is to get real life medical experience and training, so if I don’t get one of three jobs I’m out.  Luckily I have that option.
     The next step after the practice test was to put me into the system and fill out some paper work.  He tried to look for jobs for me, but the system was being screwy so he’s going to have to try again later.  I gave him the important papers I brought: social security card, birth certificate, driver’s license, and he’s going to have my college fax over my transcript.  He also needs my high school diploma which I just found under my bed.  So that’s good.
     The plan is to take the official ASVAB test tomorrow.  Then armed with that score, my recruiter can go after the job I want.  Once he books me a job I have seven days to go to MEPS and enlist.  After that there’s the wait until I ship off to basic.  I’m not nervous about the test tomorrow, but I am about the physical.  I’ve never had any health problems, but the way the recruiter made the MEPS doctors out to be, it seems like they’re dead set on disqualifying every soldier that walks in.  I mean I have a couple of scars, but people have scars right?  Shit happen.  Scars happen.  Whatever, I have nothing to hide.  Doesn’t help the nerves so much though.  
     And because you were just dying to know this (or my roommate thinks you all are) I enjoyed a hearty fist bump with my recruiter.   

QBP: "The medic takes not his courage from anger.  He runs the same or greater risks of death and injury, but he, or she, is given over on the battlefield not to Thanatos and anger, but to kindness and Eros."  -Lt. Col. Dave Grossman

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Line dancing – the L is for Lesbians

     The other night I went out to a gay club with Non-lesbian (her idea).  Last time I went to this club it was fun, though there was a claustrophobic abundance of gay men.  I had seen a scattering of lesbians on that night out and around the city, but I have never quite figured out where the lesbians hang out (couldn’t even find any at the roller derby…THE ROLLER DERBY!)
     But I digress.  While Non-lesbian and I were searching for friends at the club we ended up in a room I had never been in before and lo and behold!  Twenty/Thirty lesbians line dancing.  It was a truly wondrous sight to behold.  I even got to see a pocket drag king in a cowboy hat!  He was awesome.       
     Though I had a lot of fun, I had a few caveats about the night.  The lesbian crowd in the club was mostly older.  I felt like such a child.  I ask my question again, but now I have to modify it.  Where are all the lesbians my age?  Even still I’m trying to convince my gay friend, B, to go to the line dancing for beginners nights.  The line dancing looked like serious fun. 
     As for Non-lesbian, I feel perhaps she is getting over her crush on me.  She went out on a date with this guy (from her recent forays into online dating) before we went out to the club.  (Is it suspicious to make plans with your friend right after a date?  I mean wouldn’t you want to at least give yourself the possibility that the date might go really well?)  Besides commenting on how she really liked how I looked in my outfit (I was looking super fly), she didn’t give me any indication of her inclinations toward me.

QBP: "There is a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good." -Edwin Denby

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Lesbian Terminology: The Masculine of Center Edition*

Andro- Stands for Androgynous.  They are men or women who choose to embrace both masculine and feminine characteristics and styles, such that they are at the center of the male/female spectrum. 

Tomboy- As a kid, they’re the girls who enjoy playing with the boys, rejecting typical girly tropes.  As a teenager or adult they are the straight or gay women who still love sports, baseball caps and hanging with the guys. 

Boi- Typically a trendy and dapper lesbian in her late teens, early twenties who likes to dress like a teenage guy.  Check out boimeetsplay.com

Soft Butch- Also known as a “Chapstick Lesbian”.  Think Ellen.  Soft Butches are lesbians who dress more masculine than tomboys, and act more masculine.  They are the in between, between Andro and Butch. 
 
Butch- Lesbians who embrace their masculinity.  They may act more like men and dress like men.  They also may take the dominant role in relationships.  Though as with most of these terms, the most important factor is that they self-identify as Butch.  

Stone Butch- A Butch who follows the adage, “to give is better than to receive” when it comes to sex.  They’d rather take care of their partner’s needs and are satisfied with that.

Stud- These are butches that have a lot of concern for appearances and "looking good". They sometimes take on the look and mannerisms of a "gangsta" or "thug". Usually younger, masculine behaviors usually similar to that of a teenage or early 20's guy.

AG- Aggressive Girl.  AGs are part of a subculture in cities.  Typically women of color in their twenties, they are tough, gangsta homosexual women.

Genderqueer- Dressing or acting in a manner that is not typically seen as mainstream or what society deems as “traditional” or “normal”.

FTM- Female to Male.  A female that is in the process of transitioning to be a man.  Involves hormones (testosterone), and sexual reassignment surgery. Often, breasts are removed, hysterectomies are performed, and name changes are done. These people live as men.

*Disclaimer* - Other interpretations may apply.

QBP: "I am a rare species, not a stereotype."-Ivan E. Coyote (check the vid below)

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Drastic Life Decision Made

Welp, the decision I've been waiting on has been made...sort of.  The medical school I interviewed at months ago finally viewed my application and put me on hold status.  Which means they can make a decision (to accept, to reject) before March 31st.  After that they have to either reject me or put me on the waitlist.

Here's what I have to say to that: Fuck it.  I'm not going to wait around anymore in the hopes that I'll get accepted.  I'm joining the military.  I plan on visiting a recruitment office next week and I'll go from there.  I'll keep you all updated as I go through the process.  

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Masculine Mannerisms

(A couple notes before I begin.  First, this is strictly about mannerisms.  I may cover actions, habits, and vocal patterns at a later date.  Second, I’m an advocate of everyone just being themselves no matter their mannerisms.  This isn’t a how to guide, but simply observations I’ve had as well as others.  Thirdly, not every man has these mannerisms, just a slight majority.)

     This all started with beer.  Or actually it started with me looking at how this guy held his beer.  He probably didn’t even realize, but how he held his beer told everyone in the bar: I am masculine.  Curious, I decided to investigate masculine mannerisms.  Some of these are obvious and others less so.   
  
Sitting:
     As a general rule, men like to take up space.  In chairs they tend to slouch more, and spread out with their legs and arms.  They keep their legs apart, and employ the ankle resting on the leg method of crossing their legs.       
Additionally I’ve commonly noticed men slouch down in their chair and then stick their feet straight out crossing their feet at the ankle.    
     General observation for mimicry: Arrange yourself as though you had no bones in your body. Drape yourself over the couch or chair or against the wall like you are all floppy, and don't worry about personal space.

Walking:
      When women walk they do this one-foot-after-the-other-in-a-line walk (think balance beam).  Men on the other hand walk with their feet apart and side by side (following two parallel lines) and surprise surprise they don’t sway/switch their hips.  Additionally a guy's heel is the first thing to touch the ground, and his toes generally stay up longer than a woman's.  (Women, used to heels, will touch down first with the ball of their foot.)   They walk heavy, with purpose, confidence.  Some might refer to a masculine swagger, but I have yet to figure out a swagger which doesn’t make me look like an spaz or like a cocky something or other.  
   
Standing:
     Unlike women who may put more weight on one leg, men will stand with equal weight distribution on both feet.  When a guy feels threatened, he'll get "bigger" to try and scare the threat, as opposed to women who generally get smaller as to not be noticed.  Lean.  Lean against walls, door frames, vehicles (make sure they’re not moving when you do this).

Hands:
     Women tend to emphasize their points with their hands, men tend not to.  Men keep their hands down and low.  They stick their hands in their pockets, but to do that you need pockets you can actually fit your hands into…stupid girl jeans.  In an interview with Felicity Huffman when she was playing in Transamerica, she said she moved her hands like she was underwater, which made them seem bigger and more mannish.  Avoid hands at hips at all times, unless you are David Caruso…who you are not.
     Men aren’t as careful when they hold things, so many men (and a few women I’ve noticed) hold their beer bottles by the neck with a few fingers, when they’re taking sips.  For larger gulps, they hold their bottles in a typical position at the label.     

Face:
     Smirking, it’s not just for lesbians!  When guys smile their grin is a bit asymmetrical, sort of almost lopsided.  Men tend to be more cheeky with their smiling than women, and typically don’t react as “large” as women do.  They want to seem unfazed and in control of everything happening around them.
     They’ll crane their head up in response of a threat or acknowledgment and use more non-verbal communication than women.  Men clench their jaws when doing manly things. 
     Guys look confident.  They don't look apologetic, hesitant or shy. Even reserved guys tend to have an air of self assurance.
     They aren't too emotionally expressive most of the time, but when they are, they wave their hands and arms around a lot (dynamically, not girlishly. They don't keep their hands close to their body---men fling them out.) They don't try to be contained or quiet about it---upset/excited guys get very demonstrative.

Additional:  
         We could get into the cruder aspects, like “package” adjustment, or scratching, but oh hey I just did! 
    
 The Summary:
     Take up space.  Be less expressive.

QBP: "When women are depressed, they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. It's a whole different way of thinking." -Elayne Boosler


I observed a lot of these mannerisms and got the rest from this site.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Repairing what has been broken

     Recently a seminary student who attends my church started up a new ministry.  A ministry specifically for gay people.  The goal of the ministry: to help those who have been wounded by the hate “Christians” have inflicted upon them.  It’s also a place where gay people in the church and in the outside world are welcome to enjoy community.
     The first meeting of the ministry was this past Sunday.  Though the invitation to the meeting was extended to all regardless of sexual orientation, I was the only one there who was not openly gay.  One of my church friends was there and I think he assumed I was there because of my brother being gay.  That’s half the reason why I attended.  I want to help young and older gay people know that God loves them, and that they are loved.  I want them to know that the loudest voices in their lives aren’t the only ones. 
     I wanted to tell my story, my brother’s story.  But I wasn’t ready.  I’m the type who has to think before she speaks.  However my thoughts weren’t cooperating.  My mind was jumble of words and feelings.  So instead I listened to the stories of the others.
     Most of them grew up in conservative churches.  They knew they were gay from a young age, but feared coming out.  For good reason.  Several were socially isolated when they came out, or forced to go to reparative therapy if they wished to continue attending.  All these people who loved and supported them were gone in a single instant. 
     One gay man was planning on becoming a youth minister, but when his home church found out he was barred from ever working with youth again.  Another had his mother go ballistic and said every mean thing you should never say to your son.  Each story more powerful than the last.  Haters make me insane sometimes.  Why break down, when you can build up?      
     When the time came for prayer requests I put forth my baby brother’s name.  I know he doesn’t think much of prayer.  Sometimes I too debate its efficacy, but he should know that even though these people don’t know him like I know him, that they care.  
     The next meeting is next month.  There I will tell my story.  I will come out, and be brave, because my brother is brave every day.  Every day that he has to walk the halls of his high school, he is brave.  I will tell his story, so that they understand the importance of such a group like this.  So that maybe, just maybe we can save young gay lives like my brother's.

QBP: "Dear, America. When you tell Gay Americans that they can’t serve their country openly, or marry the person that they love, you're telling that to kids too. Don’t be fuckin shocked and wonder where all these bullies are coming from that are torching young kids and driving them to kill themselves because they’re different. They learned it from watching you." -Sarah Silverman

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

When the $#!^ gets Real


     Several months ago I got a call from my brother and panicked.  My brothers never call me unless something horrible has happened/is happening.  My baby brother, his young voice breaking, said, “I need to tell you something.”  “Of course, anything,” I replied.  “I think I’m gay.”  I about burst out laughing, but stop myself.  I didn’t want to be insensitive.  I had been expecting something dire, and instead it was something wonderful. 
     Here was my youngest brother figuring out and owning something ten years earlier than myself.  I thought of all the wonderful experiences that awaited my brother, now that he was armed with that knowledge.  Of course as brave as he was I had to tell him I shared similar feelings, which came as a bit of a shock, but he took it in stride. 
     The people who know me could tell you one thing for certain about me.  The most important people in my life are my brothers.  Particularly my baby brother who I raised when my parents decided they were too burdened with their own life issues to do it themselves.  I am fiercely protective of him. 
     Anyways flash forward to the beginning of last month.  I get a call late at night from my brothers.  They’re in tears, which freaked me out.  My older younger brother never cries.  Some family shit was going down, and all I could do from several states away was try comforting them.  Offer platitudes.  Tell them I love them.  All this emotion brought something out in my baby brother.  He had something else to tell me.  He admitted to attempting suicide.
     I don’t think I’ve ever felt as hurt as I did right then.  Sure I followed the gay teen suicides, but for whatever reason I felt my baby brother was safe.  He had my other brother; he had me.  He wasn’t even out at his high school.  He didn’t read as gay.  He’d be safe from the bullying.  I can’t believe I was that stupid to think that way.  He is surrounded by bullying.  He’s not deaf.  He hears all the unkind things said and hate spewed.  He isn’t going to a liberal high school up north like I did.  He’s deep in hate territory, where he doesn’t need to be open about being gay to feel hated.  Add to that all the family crap, and the fact that he’s a teenager and damn. 
     This hate…it needs to stop now.  I don’t know how I’m going to make it better.  I don’t know if I can.  But I have to try.  Even the threat of losing my brother devastates me.  I can’t imagine how all the families of suicide victims feel.
     I feel my anger rising and I can’t even think straight anymore, so angry am I at “Christians” who spread such a message of hate and inequality.  How dare they invoke the name of God and Jesus in their vile filth!  I have to end this post now for fear of losing it.