My Sugar Refinery

I'm listening to Shakira's "La Tortura" and now, "Hips Don't Lie". I decided to open up my "dancing card" and call some people who like to go out, and a couple who have offered to teach me salsa and latin american dances. Learning stylized dances will open up more dancing venues, and I like the music besides. I don't know any latin moves yet, so if anyone sees me trying it out, I am an amateur!

Another thing I like, is where I work. I can't say I love what I do right now, but there is more than petrochemical energy there--there is testosterone. Ahhh! I got my wish to be around a bunch of "military" men. Besides the interesting aspects of danger and health risks, and the political climate, there are other sub-stories. When my last employer asked where I was now working, and I said, "an oil refinery", my roommate said under his breath (with smug satisfaction), "a sugar refinery". He was still upset to hear about my sugardaddy exploits, and must have thought, "haha, you got a refinery, not a daddy". Ay papacito, pero los hombres en mi vida, ahora, son muy bonito! I listened to Mary Poppins "Chim Chim Cheeree" and watched the sweeps dancing around on the coal factory rooftops and towers and thought about "my guys". Oh yeah, and then I watched a clip from Cinderella as she's singing "Sing Sweet Nightingale" while scrubbing the floors, and thought it funny some of the guys decided to call me "Cindy", short for Cinderella, of their own vocation.

It's really different working around so many men, and I can't imagine it's very easy for them. It's sort of like living on a base most of the day. I came into one of the units, on the first day, saying, "I hear you're the dirty guys," and of course I saw the looks. Another time, one guy said, "When did you meet ____?" and I said, "Oh, I see ______ every night," and there was joking. Almost anything spoken from my mouth is potential inuendo, which is both fun and, I know, not extremely "professional". I don't know how professional I want to be right now, though, afterall, I call one of my coworkers, my "bee-ahtch" and he likes it (trust me, he likes it, and he's the best damn girlfriend I've got right now).

This is an extremely professional operation though, and this place has one of the best safety records. I never knew blue collar could be so "with it". These guys are very smart, and not just dinking around. I had to sign a confidentiality statement when I started work there. I take this to mean it's okay to write a little about generalities, but nothing "company", such as spills, leaks, strategies, maps, locations, and even qualifications of employees. For example, I noticed a poster of an organization in one building, and yet I won't write about it because it could tip someone off as to what kind of security is hired and where one may be positioned outside of normal structure. It's a very small thing, but I'm no Geraldo Rivera. Most people are pretty quiet about things.

I noticed one man who walks steathily like someone from "The Predator" with sort of a glide and sideways glance and I notice as he's approaching from behind, from the corner of my eye, and suddenly, I can see him in fatigues, in the middle of trees and brush, with a gun in hand, keeping an eye on his "game". There is plenty of room for the imagination I've found.

I haven't met anyone I didn't like (yet, I guess) out there. Mainly, there are a lot of good people with great personalities. And there's a lot to learn, so depending on what I decide to do with my life and which legal strategy I decide is best for me, in the matter concerning my son, there are some options. It's really good for my writing, future writing that is, because this is all fresh and new material, and something I don't have prior experience with. I don't mean I'll write about details, but there's a lot of general information which can be gathered online (such as, some of the oil reaches 900 degrees before it is cooled down, and so on) which could be used to frame a story.

But yes, I do like working with men. And the other women there are, in many ways, like me, so we get along. Aside from the testosterone, it's just different and refreshing. I even think I laugh more. My coworkers think there's something wrong with me now if I'm not laughing about something at break, or cracking them up.

Some things which are so small, given the characters and the situation (The Case of the Disappearing Mop) turn into such huge issues that I can't help but see Seinfeld in everything. Then, I have to call for asssistance with a title, and the person who is so peeved that his mop is always disappearing, and he thinks it's because I'M the devil taking it, says, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice," which is fitting and especially delightful coming from him, as he gives me an exasperated sideways look. It's all facial expressions though. Everyone has their comic "look" of indignation and upset.