Monday, December 3, 2012

My Life Is Where Dreams Go To Die

A particularly emo title. I didn't mean it that emo. Maybe at the time. No, it's more about the tendencies I have to dream and then get attached to said dream, and then stupid reality kicks in. Dang reality. So last post was on me wanting to fly. I managed to keep that dream alive for like a week. A week is a long time to deny reality. Well, maybe not for me...

On Friday of said week, I talked to two people who had been flying with private pilot's licenses. One was selling waaaay overpriced window hangings and it had been a hobby for her. She said it took like $8000 to get your private pilot's license because you had to rent the trainer and his plane.

Then later I talked to David's boss who had his license as well and he said you really need to have a purpose with it if you want to pursue it, or it's just an expensive hobby. But to go from private pilot license to being a commercial pilot, you need at least 1000 hours flight time. I'd NEVER be able to afford that short of buying my own plane, which really is just a different set of costs.

So I moped around a bit. Some dreams die harder than others. I was hoping this one would last until after I like actually got to fly once. And then I thought of joining the military again. In college it seemed a good way to save money to join the National Guard. Family talked me out of it. I know the Marines are the most hard core, hence the Guard. No offense.

This time, I was searching the Air Force website (they ranked easier than several of the others as well) and saw Pilot as a listing. Minimum requirement: Bachelor's degree. Hey, I've got that. But I texted my brother again (as a Marine, he has strong opinions on women in the military) and said,
Me: I'm not allowed to join the air force, right?
Nathan: Gross
Me: Only way to learn how to fly and make money instead of spend tons.
Nathan: Gross
Me: Well, in that case, I don't think I'll be able to do it.
Nathan: Lindsey (I assume this spelling was from his auto-correct. They don't like me.). If you only knew how terrible and not a place for a lady this is.

Eh, I'm not a lady. But I get what he's saying. Sort of. And I bet the Air Force wouldn't let me keep my dreads. They say they let girls keep their hair (which seems like a double standard, if you ask me), but I've always seen the girls wear it in tight buns. My hair doesn't do tight buns. It actually doesn't even go up very well yet. I mostly just use headbands.

It's just so hard to see an opportunity that takes almost anyone (though I'm sure they don't let "almost anyone" pilot) and guarantees employment and would give me the hours and qualifications I need and the commercial airlines love to get pilots from the Air Force. In West Des Moines we'd see the fighter jets fly over once or twice and month and they look awesome.

Yeah, I probably wouldn't like the military. The deployments and the constant claim on your life for years and the orders and the obsession with how well you make your bed and so on. It isn't a life for everyone. But I wouldn't ever stay in it for life and it just bugs me that such an obvious way to meet and end (for a host of things, not just flying) would be denied me... and not that they are blocking me out because I'm a woman, but my friends and family are blocking me out of it because I'm a woman.

Being a girl can suck.

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