somedaybitch

you know, there are reasons why i walked away from the Air Force prior to signing my contract. part of it was that, way back when dinosaurs walked the earth, the only combat positions for women were at the bottom of missile silos.

uhm. no.

the other, possibly more important though admittedly more shallow, reason was my bulletproof kink.

yes, you read that right. *i* am revealing my bulletproof kink.

any of you smart kids at home guess it?

anyone? wills the smartypants french girl in the corner to be quiet

combat pilots.

combat pilots with wacked out hair, and brilliant, arguably wacked out brains.

seriously.

one came damn close to ruining my then-future career, not to mention calmly walking over the line in the sand and crushing my heart like so much snow under his boots. there are reasons why the rules about dating within a command exist. it's always wisest not to ignore those, in case anyone was wondering.

how did i keep then-future career from being ruined?

watch Atlantis last night? know that scene at the SGC where Weir does the smackdown on Caldwell? it kinda went like that. only with less people in the room. fucking with my job? bad move.

anyway...skip ahead a few dozenish years, or moreish...and there's this show on this channel with a main character who's pretty much insane. did i mention he was a pilot? with wacky hair? toast from episode one. oh yeah.

so skip ahead a few more years and this other show has a spinoff. i'm ignoring the spinoff. i'm refusing to acknowledge the existence of the spinoff. damn it, i saw the spinoff.

fighting my way out of the kink vortex, i am thoroughly undone by a bunch of loudmouthed pimps. glares at flist.

i breathe deep and try to regroup. then i go to San Diego. toast at the sight of the heavy scruff on the chin. falling backwards into the 6 ft hole after the up close and personal completely kismet sighting. spitting dirt out of my mouth after the season premiere.

i still holdout some hope of fighting it though, as i'm not addicted to the show itself.

so skip ahead to last night. they went and gave Weir actual character. those bastards. they went and had Sheppard, the guy that got fucked for refusing to leave guys behind, visit Ford's only relative. in street clothes. those fucking bastards.

so today, in the office on my weekend, i'm working on the dispatch manual.

i left my favorite pen in the car.

to avoid having to step into concrete-melting heat with a pore-collapsing humidity chaser, i asked to borrow a pen. the nice girl in records handed one over and the logo was up.

Bic...Atlantis.

i'm cursed.