Where I'm At

Recovering from a doubters fall into "this can never be possible." I always believed we were going to win. And then this happened, and this happened, and I am clawing myself back up conversation by conversation.

O'Fries is in the kitchen talking about wheatpasting, and I'm telling him the story of Ben going to the DMV where the kid found out who his Dad was from his birth certificate reprint. Yeah. He was in the office, and he called his mom and said, "Mom. This is (insert his full name). Who the hell is (insert newly discovered dad's name here)?" And it was funny because some guy in the line overheard him and said, "Oh yeah. I know that guy. He's my neighbor." And, "you look just like him."

Excuse me for a moment Bret is calling. He's choking out words cause Saundra's nephew just got shot and that makes two loves within the past few months. He asks, "How does she keep going?"

I have a suspicion and I write it to Emily in a letter. No one laughs at god in a war.

O'Fries is out, and I'm looking for an excuse to smoke a cigarette, which I fear is suicidal because they are fixing the gas line up the street. I start thinking about Sherman Alexie and The Absolutely True Diary of a part time Indian and how the 14 year old character who lives on the Spokane Indian Reservation has attended 42 funerals. Can you feel the difference?

I can only win when everyone is valuable and right now the numbers are not adding up. Queens please rise. I need to hear you laugh and say you are well.

The Singing Bridge

Yesterday I was walking to work with a bag containing 1 small cake and one 50' roll of 5/8" backer rod and I thought, "ah yes, this is my life."

How do you Like me NOW?

Today I was thinking of many things. One thing, was the relationship between drivers and cyclists. Things like, how that relationship is informed and how it grows or deteriorates.

Today I took this little one way street and came out on this bigger street, and when I came out on that street, there was a line of cars waiting for the red light. So I kind of maneuvered around the butt of this car and pulled up behind it, and I noticed that the person's sunglasses were sitting on the roof of his car. So I sidled his window and made a knocking motion, trying not to startle or threaten, and I said, "Are these your glassses sir?" And he responded, "Oh Thank You."

I think he knew I had found them on the roof. But I am wondering if his relationship as a driver to a cyclist has now changed.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Today I worked at the library as a substitute, meaning I only go there for one day. I was shelving some books on CD and was having a hard time moving things around because there were these little metal shelves sticking up every 1 foot. What it looks like, is, instead of one long shelf it was a long shelf divided into 8 or so little cubby shelves. It was not good for moving things or sorting things easily.

I asked Anna how she felt about it and she said,"awful." Tony chimed in with, "Me and Chris took them off as soon as we opened up, and then we were told we had to put them back up."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Someone got paid to put them into the shelves so we have to leave them up."

And I said, "But that doesn't make any sense."

And he said, "I talked to Mary and she said we can't move them."

And I said, "So you can't move them because someone was paid money to put them in?."

And he said, "Yep. I hate them. And you have to go through four people in order to make a decision."

"BUT THAT DOESN"T MAKE ANY SENSE!" I said.

So what this translates to me is: There are people working at a place. And when they are working there, they interact with the things. They start to come to realizations about functioning ways to interact with the things. They find that when they interact with the things, some things are easy to do, and align with body and environmental needs, and some things are just confusing. And then there is this outside thing, usually a group of people who ally themselves with the identity of DoGooder that is saying, "well we made this decision, so we will go with it. Despite all the real life evidence that it is no good, and that it does not serve a purpose that is a real purpose, we will stick with it." And then the people working at the place exist in crises mode for days and weeks and even years, because they aren't meant to function in the environments they are forced to function, in but they can find no alternative that meets their needs.

Once again, the day was ruined by beauracracy, capitalism, and its fantastically heavy hand.

It's the end of the world as we know it.

Confronting Apathy

Toay I went to a city council meeting about drilling of Marcellus Shale to extract Natural Gas. Flying in the face of all kinds of violence against people and the earth, all these "experts" and "representatives" of one kind or another talked about the economic benefits and job creation, without ever entertaining the idea that we didn't have to do it. That it is possible that the corporations who own these contracts to peoples land are not more powerful than us people. The experts talked about adding more safety staff members and tightening regulations. And all the environmental groups have signed on as this being the solution. And Tim who works for Penn Environment is a robot lecturing me about grassroots organizing and how this is the best solution, and I'm like, "Tim, this isn't good enough for me."

And when I went to watch movies in the park (and the movie preview showing at all the city parks), I was shown a preview of keeping Pennsylvania Rivers beautiful, coupled with believing in Marcellus Shale drilling in this weird Utopia water flowing video. At the Movie! In the Park!

Straight Bullshit. The people in North Central Pennslvania no longer have access to drinking water because their wells have been contaminated. And Mr. Trimmer says while being talked around like he was a piece of furniture by energy planning people, he heard them say, "we will tell them that our waste water deposited goes below the water table. Uh HUH. Hello!!!!!!

But what I really wanted to say at that meeting was, "IT IS OBVIOUS THAT ALL OF YOUR STAFF AND REGULATIONS ARE NOT GOING TO STOP CORPORATIONS FROM KILLING EVERYTHING." I am reassessing my place in the cold cruel world, but still not entertaining the idea of giving birth. Fumin'

Mail From the White House!

Today I got mail from the white house. I was not expecting! In April I participated in the mail art for Mumia campaign. I sent Pres Obama an open faced diorama that looks like this:
In return I got a very charming form letter adressed, "Dear Students;". Oh noooooooo! Obama thinks I'm ten!

The form letter included a great speech about participation and becoming leaders. I also got an illustrated map of the white house, with a reverse side interview of the president himself. It featured all kinds of regular kid questions like: "Do you play sports?, Do you get a day off?, and Who is your best friend?" (the first lady of course!) The kid pack also includes a photograph of Obama and a family photograph with signatures printed on. So regal like! I might hang it on my wall!

At first I was amused that my project was perceived as kid stuff. And then I was thinking how, if I was ten, this white house kid pack response would be awesome! If I was ten, I might think of the president as this distant television character, and getting mail from him with all this cool info and photos, wow! But then I remembered reality through my own lens, and how as much promise as it seems, it's really a propaganda punch. Cause I don't see how United States leaders can continue to go on and on about how great America is when there is so much trauma and people hurting everyday. I believe that the suffering has come to outweigh any sense of greatness, because people, including me, are beginning to understand the consequences(e.g. oil spill, war on Irag, war on drugs, mass incarceration, JLWOP, destruction, destruction, violence, disconnected, mental health crisis) of what America stands for. And that that idea of greatness is at so much expense. And that only some people get to play anyway, cause the deck is stacked sooooooo high. So yeah. Thanks for nothing Obama, except this nudge towards blog posting.

Mom's day 2010

I just had a mom's day. It involved talking with many moms on the phone. I talked with an old old wiry mom who connected with a young young scared person. I talked with a strong mom who walked the dog with me and lulled me into her house and bedroom, descibing her husband turning over and waving to her in bed. I got a text message from my own mom, in what seemed like a small reaching out. A small asking for support. A small progression. I read about Rhonshawn's mom and how his relationship with her is the foundation of our differences. I talked with O'Ryan and T about moms who are controlling in the kitchen. Don't do this, don't touch that, shut up, shut up, shut up. About the kids in the food stamp office and the library who are yelled at for everything that isn't anything. The victims and the kids of the victims. So yeah. Hooray for moms.