Too funny...almost as good as the real thing...
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Waiting in line...initially they were awesome and excited;P
'Cause you know that Obama supporters are all going to hell. I figure vote for Obama to annoy the Jesus people. Of course this is nothing on them later when they hauled their "aborted baby" pictures out and yelled "Obama serves Satan!" H and I are planning a protest when McCain/Palin come...pictures of dead children from U.S. bombs along with photos of the animals killed and skinned by Palin. H thinks we should chant "McCain serves Satan!"
Dragons for Obama!
The crowd...we were right in the middle so we couldn't see crap but it was cool to be around so many excited, energized people. Umberto in the crowd...waiting not so patiently for Obama.
Camille cheering with the crowd.
Umberto's picture of the man. This picture has such a cool story. I was holding up Umberto but I was still too short to get Umberto over the heads of the crowd. Add to this that the kid weights like 60 something pounds, and we weren't having much luck. I kept having to put him down . One tall guy was holding up his teenage daughter, and when done, turned to me: "Does he want to see Obama?" I said yes, and he lifted up Umberto , and then the guy next to me helped him so that Umberto was basically sitting on their hands. They held him up until he got his picture. Umberto was glowing!
The line as we were LEAVING the rally. It was still about a mile long, and he was half way into his speech.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
For the last twenty three years, I've been depressed off and on. There were temporary breaks. These breaks were almost painful. They were moments of lucidity in an otherwise murky world. I remember the first break came the second time I did acid. I remember thinking to myself over and over..."This is what pure joy feels like." It only happened once on drugs even though I spent some time trying to recapture that moment. Reality was bitingly harsh after that moment. I felt happy sometimes but it was like there was damper over everything I did....that black cloud. Another break came when I meet Horacio, and we were falling love. The moment is captured for me the day we were having a water gun fight...silliness but joy. But it was fleeting that joy, and even though I have known more happiness with him than anyone, I still felt that damper.
I have spent my life seeking out an intensity of emotion that out weighs the depression. Usually it was sex and/or falling in love again and again. I suspect my friends thought I was slightly nuts at the easiness in which I fell in love but you see those first few months of love were intense...just intense enough to ease the cover off of my emotions. To bring a bit of light into the darkness to use a cliche. But of course it was always so disastrous as falling in love at the drop of a hat can be. I used to think I could fall in love with just about anyone. It was desperation but not really desperation for love. I realize now that my life has been blessed with love: the love of friends, my family (no matter how fucked up they may be). No my desperation was for intensity and emotion.
Two years ago I had a summer that was pure joy. I don't know what it was about that summer but it was beautiful. I can still remember how the simplest things made me want to dance or laugh. I remember how the smell of the sun on my children's hair sent me swooning. The days were lazy and spontaneous--parks and pools, bookstores and eating out. For the first time, I felt that my love for Horacio and my children was unbarred. There was nothing dampening the emotion. And then it ended.
Have you ever tried to do anything with one of those mitten like oven mitts? They're a useful tool for handling hot pans but they make doing anything else nearly impossible. You lose all fine motor control. You can't handle anything with delicate precision. All you can do is fumble through the big things. That's my life.
So yesterday I finally called the school health clinic. I have avoided drugs for this my whole life. Over the last few months, I have come to realize how much depression cripples me. It is not a creative outlet like I used to imagine. Depression destroys my ability to function. I sleep during the day because it is the only thing I feel like I can do. I can't write. I can't read. I can't play with my children. I can't feel anything. I feel crushed and destroyed. Every moment is a moment waiting for it to all come apart. So I picked up the phone and made an appointment. I need to see the psychiatrist. I am depressed.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Today she sits, pondering why she always loses weight in the winter when she should be storing fat for the cold. She can hear children laughing and playing across the road. Her own child sleeps, curled like a cat on a sofa pillow. She knows this absurd thought process only masks the stirrings of something deep within her...something scary and a bit primitive. She tries to keep it at bay through silly thoughts, useless actions, domestic chores. She wonders if all women feel this calling...like a calling from Lilith not Eve with her goody goody Adam, falling for the oldest trick in the book, sweet talk from a snake.
"Maybe," she thinks, "I'll get a pumpkin spice latte on my way to scoop up the other children."
Monday, September 15, 2008
The autumn is a time of restless for me. I distinctly remember not only feeling restless but writing about it last year about this same time. Perhaps it's just that I feel so dreadfully overwhelmed by life. At this time, it all too often feels like everything is coming apart. This is the time when I began to second guess my whole life (minus H and children, I'm still pretty ok about them). This year it's felt like the support I had at school has fallen away. Couple this with just feeling like the whole MA in Religious Studies feels amazingly self-indulgent. But there is still a part of me that loves what I do and wonders if I'd love anything else as much. Plus there's that stupid thesis...written and hidden away on my hard drive. The thesis I literally have not looked at in almost six months. I know I need to face that demon.
And this is all just making me feel like I want to run away. But it's awfully hard to run away when you're a grown up.
I am feeling like writing again but I have no time. Until I have time, I'm going to post pictures of Mexico. I'll start with the beginning of our journey...a step backwards into memory.
Friday, September 12, 2008
And mingled with all this joy of having space finally, and making that space more and more us, I am stressed. I still have a thesis to write. I am teaching my own class this semester. H finds totally submerged into this job. The kids are in school yes but this means lots of volunteering, running them back and forth, and dealing with a very lonely Piper. I'm afraid my blog is becoming a casualty of this stress.
But things will calm down. I have faith. There is so much to write about...stories from my past, notes from my reading, and of course, the political situation in the U.S.
Right now I find myself deeply disappointed in the political situation. I was listening on NPR to a woman who had once supported H. Clinton rallying for Palin, and I felt sick to my stomach. Having a vagina does not make one a feminist. Palin is a far right conservative, who supports taking choice away from woman, bans books from libraries, and use cronyism to fire people she doesn't like. She has very little experience, to the point where she has never left the country. Her own support of abstinence in sex education obviously didn't work so hot in her own family. I'm just stunned that McCain would pick someone that totally alienates anyone with a liberal bent. While I wasn't so hot on Obama's choice of Biden, I could totally see that it was a choice towards the middle.
But right now I have to shower, load kids up in the car, and head to school where I'll be energized by singing silly songs with Mr. Artie.