Of Unicorns, white knights, and oceanographers

So when I was a little girl I believed in Unicorns. Or at least I wanted to. I also believed that life could be a fairy tale. That there were men who were chivalrous and gallant. And one day my white knight would come and sweep me off my feet. If he carried me off atop his white steed (Unicorn) all the better.

So, as we grow a little older we start to look at the world a little differently. And we start to realize that there are no white knights, no unicorns, and no castles.

Ok, so we adjust our dreams. We start to think about what we want to be when we grow up since apparently “Princess” isn’t truly an option.

So, at one point or another I aspired to be:
A zoologist
A teacher
A marine biologist
An oceanographer
A zoo keeper
A veterinarian
A prize winning National Geographic photographer
A physicist
An aeronautics expert
I was going to work for NASA
For the military
For the deep secret government.
I was going to travel the world
Maybe work for the UN
If nothing else I figured I’d have a walk up in Manhattan

So imagine my surprise when I found myself on Monday morning kneeling on a bathroom floor scrubbing tile. Hoping that our maintenance folks did a crappy enough job that the quality of the cleaning product would show. And then further add to my surprise when I was really disappointed that the floor was actually too clean.

Next picture me setting up a demo and having an entire bucket of sloppy yellow goo splashing up over the bucket and ALL over my jeans, my sweater, my arms, my shoes, the floor. I was a mess. But this didn’t phase me. I wiped myself down and went about my day.

So, by midafternoon I have dirty knees from crawling around on “clean” floors, I have yellowish streaks all over myself, and I have bruises on my leg from operating heavy machinery. And I was happy about it all. I really enjoyed my day. And I really enjoy what I do for a living.

Yesterday I helped with a training seminar for a group of people from the cruise ship industry. All the people in the group called a different country home. None of them were from the US. They were a very kind and very fun group of people to work with. The man from the Dominican Republic was telling me that his next assignment on a ship is in Venice – for three months. (green with envy I was)

Another interesting thing I noticed about the group was the way the men behaved toward each other. Unlike the macho homo phobes of these United States, the gentleman were very comfortable with each other. Touching, putting an arm around one another, these things were not unusual for them. Nor were they awkward. I was actually quite fascinated to watch them. Their interaction was very supportive, patient, and oozing camaraderie. The only way American men interact is to punch each other, get shit faced drunk, go out and kill something together, or sit on a couch and scream at a television in unison.

Now I know that not all men are like this here in the states. I get that. I really do. But I don’t think I have honestly witnessed that level of unconscious comfort between guys ever here.

Let the hate mail begin……………………