11.19.2008

Holla Muller!


Muller, Good Dog and me at the pony pasture late 80s

It's official: I have become alarmingly withdrawn from social contact. Not really a good place for an ex-agoraphobic to be, but at least this time my withdrawal is due to actual choice, rather than fucked up devastating biological disorder. This school stuff has truly taken over my life! Ack!

But I am already digressing ...

Today my best friend in the whole world called me at work to check on me and see if I was okay. It'll take a bit of background to understand why this was such a significant gesture.

Muller and I have been buds since we were 16 year old punk rockers hanging out at underground clubs. I don't even remember how we met. I could have been during a then frequent spray painting expedition - hell, it might even have been the very night my little crew almost got arrested for spray painting an actual breathing, though passed out, bum. We might have met during an also frequent late night foray into an abandoned (and reputably haunted) girls' school. It might even have been at the anarchy house we called Place One, where the fact that the balcony was about to collapse didn't stop us from crowding it on a hot summer night to load our wrist rockets with rocks to shoot at the windows of the newly constructed corporate high rise across the street. (Urbanization resentment at its finest folks!) Hee. Those were crazy times; they were scary times; but they were good times.

It doesn't matter how we met, just that we deemed each other cool enough to accept into our respective existences and have been besties ever since. Lately we find ourselves laughing as, in the middle of a conversation, we realise we are talking about our latest wrinkles or urinary problems and we both realise just how old - and thus uncool - we have become.

We have experienced over 25 years of shared milestones - marriage (I don't think either of us has ever approved of any guy the other dated!) pregnancy and childbirth (I wasn't pregnant the same time as Muller, but her favourite horse was pregnant when I was, therefore her past equine obstetrical experience served both Polly and me well. I still crack up about the time I was unsure if I was going into labour so I called my "vet" Muller, who asked in all seriousness, "Are your teats leaking?"

So, we have arrived at that comfortable point of friendship where we don't need to talk every day - or week - or sometimes month. Just knowing the other is out there - just a phone call away if a heart gets broken or someone needs bailed out - is enough.

So, that is why the phone call today was significant. We both dislike gabbing on the phone and we both lead such busy lives that we don't have the freakin' time to make a phone call - much less during the actual workday. But Muller read my last rant about being tired and overwhelmed and she was worried so she made it a point to call.

That, people, is what true friendship is all about. It's not what this particular blog entry was supposed to be all about, but as I typed tonight I found myself feeling really blessed to have her in my life so ....

This one's for you Muller - to let you know that I am fine and I that I love you!


These two photos are from an abandonded building exploration downtown in the mid 80s. I was posing artistically in my RayBans and Muller was, as always, smoking and looking cool.






11.14.2008

UGH.

I am officially tired.

Bone tired.

The kind of tired that the more eloquent poets call weary.

I am almost to the point of surpassing tired and just being done.

Yeah, I’m depressed too. Does it show? Heh heh.

I’ve always felt that if you just get up every day and do the best that you can do then that is enough. I believe that if you always respect the very least of those among us; if you stand up for what is right, rather than what is popular; and if you never ever feel that you are entitled to anything more than any else then you are doing all right.

But what about when that is not enough?

You get out what you put into life. As a devoted Buddhist I firmly believe in Karma. But you know what? I look all around this fucked up world and I see some really crap ass people getting ahead. I see good people losing their homes, their jobs and custody of their children. I see pathological liars succeeding not despite of their dishonesty, but because of it. Sure, it only makes sense that lying and stealing are wrong and we all grew up hearing the morality stories, fables and fairly tales where, in the end, the good guys win.

Well, I'm here to tell ya folks: That's not always how it works out.

Good people get screwed. Life throws you curve balls. When you think you have it all figured out is when God laughs - remember?

I believe that living a life where you have no secrets and no shame is the only way to have a life that is truly yours. You own it; you can be proud of it, and nobody can take that away from you. That is a life where you can look into a mirror and consider the person looking back at you to be a friend you are proud of. I had finally reached that point in my life and was experiencing such peace. Sigh ...

I’m really digressing here ….

My point is that a series of events have resulted in my being at a really negative place in my mind right now. I've lost the ability to find the positive in my current situation. I mean, I'm alive! That's pretty cool, huh? I have a great kiddo and the best cat in the world. I have a job, and a car, and a really awesome collection of books ...

But it seems like being a decent person isn't cutting it. I feel like I haven't done, or am not doing, enough.

This too shall pass. In the end, it always does. I'll wallow in this current self pity; withdraw a lot; and then, I'll find the strength to get back up and start fighting the good fight again. I promise I will!

But right now?

I am tired.

11.05.2008

The American Dream is Alive Again!



I am so proud of my country today! A renewed sense of pride that I haven't been able to feel in a very long time. When Michelle Obama made her comment about how she was finally able to be proud to be American many people attacked her. But you know what? I completely understood where she was coming from.

Of course I have always been American, and always been proud of what America is supposed to stand for. For a long time, however, this country has NOT exemplified the principals we claim to hold dear. For the past 8 years we have been led by an administration headed by an out-of-touch and ethnocentric leader with an agenda representing only a small portion of our public. On top of that - and as a particular pet peeve of my own - that same leader could not even be bothered to learn the proper pronunciation of the very language of our country. Yes, Bush appeared to the world as the stereotypical dumbfuck redneck American hillbilly without any true grasp of the issues of the world today. The fact that we let him steal his first term and then voted the damned thief into a second term further cemented the "gullible America" image to the world.

And if that weren't bad enough, we then held ourselves out as the standard by which the rest of the world should measure themselves. Well, the rest of the world looked at us and laughed. They laughed at our fear of "nu-Q-lar" weapons; they laughed at our "freedom fries" and then they got mad. Mad at our superior bullying attitude; mad at our disregard for the events of the world; and mad that we retaliated against a terrorist strike by invading the wrong country. Then, they began to laugh at us again as we drained our country's finances and bankrupted our nation in an effort to stay where we weren't even wanted.

When it came time to elect a new President, some geniuses decided it would be a good idea to go to the furthest borders of our country and pluck out an obscure (though beautiful), inexperienced, and not very educated woman and hold her out as best choice for our second in command.

At his point, we even began to laugh at ourselves.

Thankfully, we stood up and we finally said, "No." Instead, we chose a man whose very ethnicity represent the melting pot that we are. Barack Obama epitomizes the American dream in many ways. He is of mixed race and heritage; therefore he has experienced first-hand the racism and discrimination that still exists today. Indeed, he experienced it during his very campaign.

He grew up in a non-traditional family, therefore he knows that the traditional definition of the nuclear family is long over. He knows the pain of divorce - which is so prevalent in our society. He understands the struggles of a single mom who has to support her family alone because he has watched his own motherwork hard to provide for him. He has, most likely, experienced the disappointment of being told, "No, I'm sorry son, we cannot afford it."

He wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and I'm sure he has, at times, gone without. But despite his disadvantages he worked hard and proved that even a poor biracial kid from a broken home can gain entrance into one of our most esteemed Ivy League Universities. he knows that sometimes it is not always about who you know, but sometimes really is about how hard you work. He broke his first racial barrier by becoming the first African American to achieve the prestigious position as President of the Harvard Law Review.

And, guess what? Having been a child of the 1970s he, like so many other of his peers, did experiment with alcohol, pot, and cocaine. More importantly, he owns and admits these experiences so common to American college culture.

Throughout his career he has consistently focused on change at the grass roots level. He is blessed with the gift and ability to motivate people for a united cause. His candidacy addressed the very public he sought to represent rather than the interests of the elite. He asked us to hope, but he also acknowledge the high price of hope. He asked for our help - just $5 sometimes - and in the end we funded the most expensive campaign in history. Imagine that? Asking the average citizen to help without cloaking it in any complicated ruse. It's amazing what we can do for our country when we are simply, and honestly, asked.

Think about it.

Do you think this little bi-racial boy from a poor family was in any way groomed to be president? He had no Senator uncle, or a grandfather with presidential ties; no wealthy family intent on sending him to the white house.

We did that ourselves America. And we should be very very proud.

11.01.2008

Muse: Thy Name is Stress

It always goes like this! I spend weeks without any inspiration to write and then, when I need to be writing very important (but completely un-fun) academic papers the creative ideas just come pouring out!


The whole past summer flew by and i didn't write a single essay here. AND IT IS AN ELECTION YEAR!!!! It's not like I haven't had a million things to say. Those who know me well can confirm that I've been known to write lengthy blogs about the election of PTA presidents at my son's school. They remember that I campaigned for Bill Clinton while in labor! They remember that I used to try and initiate dinner conversation about Bills that hadn't even been completely written yet! So why have I let all this exciting Obama/McCain stuff go on without comment?


On top of that, Angelina Jolie has added, like, a dozen more kids to her brood without comment from me. Have I gone soft?!


Ellen got married and Ididn't write a single word! (Though I was so touched by her wedding video that I teared up a little bit.)




Palin alone has given me sooo much material I could write a stand up routine! But you know what? EVERYBODY is talking about the election and that is sooo because political nerds like me now actually have real people to talk to!

So, I guess I just haven't felt the need to write about it.