I've been trying not to do this too much since it was extremely indicative of my previous blog, but I'm going to bite the bullet since I think it's kind of indicative of my style in general and not to include the following (and I'm sure many posts to come) would mean a decision to omit a large part of what inspires me from my blog, which seems, you know, couterproductive and wrong.
So I'm reading this book called The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai, a strikingly beautiful Indian-American woman. Her language is very poetic throughout the novel, and there are very many passages that have struck me profoundly, but there was one that I read today that I felt I had to share. The following passage is an observation by the author made after some of the characters discuss the relative virtues of different religions in their ideas of what ultimately means justice i.e. the afterlife or karma, etc.:
The fact was that one was left empty-handed. There was no system to soothe the unfairness of things; justice was without scope; it might snag the stealer of chickens, but great evasive crimes would have to be dismissed because, if identified and netted, they would bring down the entire structure of so-called civilization. For crimes that took place in the monstrous dealings between nations, for crimes that took place in those intimate spaces between two people without a witness, for these crimes the guilty would never pay. There was no religion and no government that would relieve the hell.
This particular passage means something to me today because I have recently been carrying around a mountain of hurt on my shoulders as a result of the breakdown of what I considered an important relationship in my life. I saw it coming from a mile away, but I was desperately hoping that I would be proven wrong in this instance. The sheer scope of instances in which I was to blame for this situation is seemingly endless, but ultimately there was nothing I could have done to change the outcome.
And that is the most bitter pill to take.
In this particular situation, the crime perpetrated by two individuals against each other will never be judged by an impartial witness. There is no way to measure and balance out the damage that was done by each party over the long course of time.
The only truth I've been able to find is in silence. The more I talk and think and write about it, the more confusing it becomes for me, and it does not bring me peace.
The only thing I can do to relieve myself of this hell is to make the decision for it to end. But that brings with it another inherent burden. It will have been my choice. And once it is made, I don't think I can unmake it.
I know it's the love I can't bear to part with more than its object.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Naked Blogging: I'm Bad at My Life
Lately I've kind of lost it. I'm not talking about nervous breakdowns here. I'm talking about the fact that I used to be really good at things. Like everything that people are supposed to be good at.
I could instantly tell you where you were and where you wanted to go. I was inVOLved. I knew the latest Hollywood gossip and what was going on with important TV programs. I had read all the news and had opinions on current affairs.
I used to know the seasonal fashion trends and who was wearing them and what makeup and nail polish colors were going to set them off perfectly.
It used to be that I could answer questions on Jeopardy! and Who Wants to be a Millionaire, because I was just that up-to-date on pop culture and not so pop culture. I was sharp.
But lately I've been feeling very mushy.
This evening someone stopped on the street and asked me what the address was where we were - as in what hundred block is this? And I looked around like I had no idea where I was. Incidentally, I was half a block from home. There was an old man with an umbrella walking behind me who said, "1400." Of course we were in the 1400 block.
(Interesting real-time aside: I think I just heard someone having sex outside my window).
Then the guy who had stopped me on the street asked which way to the 900 block? And I pointed the opposite direction of where he was heading. The old man with the umbrella replied (correctly), "East. Straight ahead, east."
This incident caused me to accept the fact that I am not good at my life. People want to talk to me, strike up harmless conversations like, "how long have you been waiting at the bus stop?"
It actually takes me time to think about these types of questions these days. Usually the answer is something like, "not long," but I'm always absorbed in some internal dialogue or a convoluted reverie about the best ways to turn down marriage proposals or whether there is ever an acceptable reason to purchase clothing made in Indonesia or whether or not I should care about changes to the health care system in the United States.
This type of thinking does not make you sharper and more desirable to talk to, I've found.
Usually people don't want to talk about this sort of thing on a daily basis. They just want to know which way they should go. You know, practical sorts of concerns that plague the life of your normal person. I find myself using the phrase, "I'm kinda out of it today," much more frequently than I'd like. Not because I'm really out of it, but because I'm so focused on something that has absolutely no relevance to what it is that I'm doing at the present moment.
1.) Do most people have these problems?
2.) Is this a symptom of something else?
3.) Would I be a more fulfilled and relaxed individual if I were more concerned about what the address was?
I could instantly tell you where you were and where you wanted to go. I was inVOLved. I knew the latest Hollywood gossip and what was going on with important TV programs. I had read all the news and had opinions on current affairs.
I used to know the seasonal fashion trends and who was wearing them and what makeup and nail polish colors were going to set them off perfectly.
It used to be that I could answer questions on Jeopardy! and Who Wants to be a Millionaire, because I was just that up-to-date on pop culture and not so pop culture. I was sharp.
But lately I've been feeling very mushy.
This evening someone stopped on the street and asked me what the address was where we were - as in what hundred block is this? And I looked around like I had no idea where I was. Incidentally, I was half a block from home. There was an old man with an umbrella walking behind me who said, "1400." Of course we were in the 1400 block.
(Interesting real-time aside: I think I just heard someone having sex outside my window).
Then the guy who had stopped me on the street asked which way to the 900 block? And I pointed the opposite direction of where he was heading. The old man with the umbrella replied (correctly), "East. Straight ahead, east."
This incident caused me to accept the fact that I am not good at my life. People want to talk to me, strike up harmless conversations like, "how long have you been waiting at the bus stop?"
It actually takes me time to think about these types of questions these days. Usually the answer is something like, "not long," but I'm always absorbed in some internal dialogue or a convoluted reverie about the best ways to turn down marriage proposals or whether there is ever an acceptable reason to purchase clothing made in Indonesia or whether or not I should care about changes to the health care system in the United States.
This type of thinking does not make you sharper and more desirable to talk to, I've found.
Usually people don't want to talk about this sort of thing on a daily basis. They just want to know which way they should go. You know, practical sorts of concerns that plague the life of your normal person. I find myself using the phrase, "I'm kinda out of it today," much more frequently than I'd like. Not because I'm really out of it, but because I'm so focused on something that has absolutely no relevance to what it is that I'm doing at the present moment.
1.) Do most people have these problems?
2.) Is this a symptom of something else?
3.) Would I be a more fulfilled and relaxed individual if I were more concerned about what the address was?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Inevitable Move to a Blog Post of a Political Nature OR Why People Need to Learn the Difference Between a Nazi and a Communist
It was inevitable. That means in literal terms unavoidable. It was ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN to happen that I would start writing blogs about political issues and stray from the everyday stuff. Although when you think about it (read: when I think about it), political issues ARE everyday stuff for most Americans. It's just the everyday stuff they're happy to let someone else deal with and then turn around and bitch about when it doesn't work out the way THEY would have chosen - if in fact their goddamn Senator or Congressperson had voted like they were elected to do.
Fine.
So here I am about to bitch about something that I've been bitching about to every person who would let me have a second's attention over the last few years of my life: the national healthcare crisis.
I am allowed to call it a crisis, because in fact, several tons of people die each year because they have little to no healthcare coverage. Another several hundred tons of people go into enormous amounts of debt as a result of another inevitable thing : sickness or injury.
Why, you might ask, don't these idiots who can't afford healthcare, and as a result of that oversight are so obviously inferior to you and me who do have the good God-given sense to pay for health insurance companies to pretend to cover our doomed asses realize that they just don't have the LUXURY of getting sick or injured? Or why don't they at least do it in such a way that obliges someone else to cover their healthcare costs?
We may never understand the answer to these and others of life's mysteries.
But there is another bigger underlying query which may soon rock all of humanity (that lives in the United States of America)...
When the government tries to step in and get their filthy little noses into a business that so obviously concerns them (a business that, if our government had any sense at all, they would have long since begun to regulate), do we call them Nazis or Communists?
The answer for many outraged voters who are about to continue getting the same level of health insurance coverage they received before is a resounding BOTH.
Yes. The government of the United States qualifies as both Nazi and Communist in their attempts to interfere in the long-standing tradition of allowing the health insurance industries to ass-rape people for years just so their claims can be denied when they most need coverage i.e. when a human being develops cancer or heart disease or get shot by stray bullets in the mean streets of Idaho.
Now Nazis, for those of you who are unaware of the distinction, are defined as people who subscribe to "a form of socialism featuring racism and expansionism and obedience to a strong leader," socialism being "any of various theories or systems of social organization in which the means of producing and distributing goods is owned collectively or by a centralized government that often plans and controls the economy." Our great nation, as it turns out, is the exact opposite of a socialist system, because not only does the government not control the producing and distributing of goods, the producers and distributors of goods control the government through their various and sundry "charitable" contributions to campaigns and administrations. (The only source I'll cite here is freedictionary.com - thanks for the definitions).
Communists are described as supporters of "a system of government in which the state plans and controls the economy and a single, often authoritarian party holds power, claiming to make progress toward a higher social order in which all goods are equally shared by the people."
Apparently, the people who are so all-fired-up over the proposal for the eensiest little change in our health care system, which still allows for health insurance companies to get fat and happy for years to come, think that our government is both racist/power hungry for world domination AND eager for everyone to get equal shares of everything.
Makes sense to me.
Now I'm not asking a lot here. I do not think that our government is above rebuke, and certainly the people who are running it are not without fault. But in fairness, aren't we only serving to lower ourselves to an even baser level by name-calling? And if we are going to sink to that level, shouldn't we at least have a basic understanding of what we're saying before we go around turning ourselves into morons because we think that Nazis and Communists are the same thing? (They aren't - if you didn't catch that point).
What I will say is this: who is widely considered the most patriotic American actor today? The one without whom the free world would be instantly doomed on a weekly basis?
You guessed it: Kiefter Sutherland.
And none other than Kiefter Sutherland's grandfather, Tommy Douglas (also known as The Greatest Canadian), was instrumental in implementing what is today the biggest difference between the U.S. and Canada - the universal healthcare system.
Now at first Canadians weren't all that crazy about universal healthcare themselves. Especially the doctors. They were afraid that their pay would decrease as a result of government funded healthcare initiatives. They believed that less expensive foreign doctors would be imported in order to lower the cost of healthcare to the Canadian government thereby reducing the quality of healthcare provided to their patients. Lucky for us here in the good ol' U.S. of A., we don't have those silly problems, because we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we're nowher near having to face those issues because our government is so quagmired in legal jargon and red tape that we'll never see the onset of universal healthcare for our citizens. At least not in our lifetime.
Fine.
So here I am about to bitch about something that I've been bitching about to every person who would let me have a second's attention over the last few years of my life: the national healthcare crisis.
I am allowed to call it a crisis, because in fact, several tons of people die each year because they have little to no healthcare coverage. Another several hundred tons of people go into enormous amounts of debt as a result of another inevitable thing : sickness or injury.
Why, you might ask, don't these idiots who can't afford healthcare, and as a result of that oversight are so obviously inferior to you and me who do have the good God-given sense to pay for health insurance companies to pretend to cover our doomed asses realize that they just don't have the LUXURY of getting sick or injured? Or why don't they at least do it in such a way that obliges someone else to cover their healthcare costs?
We may never understand the answer to these and others of life's mysteries.
But there is another bigger underlying query which may soon rock all of humanity (that lives in the United States of America)...
When the government tries to step in and get their filthy little noses into a business that so obviously concerns them (a business that, if our government had any sense at all, they would have long since begun to regulate), do we call them Nazis or Communists?
The answer for many outraged voters who are about to continue getting the same level of health insurance coverage they received before is a resounding BOTH.
Yes. The government of the United States qualifies as both Nazi and Communist in their attempts to interfere in the long-standing tradition of allowing the health insurance industries to ass-rape people for years just so their claims can be denied when they most need coverage i.e. when a human being develops cancer or heart disease or get shot by stray bullets in the mean streets of Idaho.
Now Nazis, for those of you who are unaware of the distinction, are defined as people who subscribe to "a form of socialism featuring racism and expansionism and obedience to a strong leader," socialism being "any of various theories or systems of social organization in which the means of producing and distributing goods is owned collectively or by a centralized government that often plans and controls the economy." Our great nation, as it turns out, is the exact opposite of a socialist system, because not only does the government not control the producing and distributing of goods, the producers and distributors of goods control the government through their various and sundry "charitable" contributions to campaigns and administrations. (The only source I'll cite here is freedictionary.com - thanks for the definitions).
Communists are described as supporters of "a system of government in which the state plans and controls the economy and a single, often authoritarian party holds power, claiming to make progress toward a higher social order in which all goods are equally shared by the people."
Apparently, the people who are so all-fired-up over the proposal for the eensiest little change in our health care system, which still allows for health insurance companies to get fat and happy for years to come, think that our government is both racist/power hungry for world domination AND eager for everyone to get equal shares of everything.
Makes sense to me.
Now I'm not asking a lot here. I do not think that our government is above rebuke, and certainly the people who are running it are not without fault. But in fairness, aren't we only serving to lower ourselves to an even baser level by name-calling? And if we are going to sink to that level, shouldn't we at least have a basic understanding of what we're saying before we go around turning ourselves into morons because we think that Nazis and Communists are the same thing? (They aren't - if you didn't catch that point).
What I will say is this: who is widely considered the most patriotic American actor today? The one without whom the free world would be instantly doomed on a weekly basis?
You guessed it: Kiefter Sutherland.
And none other than Kiefter Sutherland's grandfather, Tommy Douglas (also known as The Greatest Canadian), was instrumental in implementing what is today the biggest difference between the U.S. and Canada - the universal healthcare system.
Now at first Canadians weren't all that crazy about universal healthcare themselves. Especially the doctors. They were afraid that their pay would decrease as a result of government funded healthcare initiatives. They believed that less expensive foreign doctors would be imported in order to lower the cost of healthcare to the Canadian government thereby reducing the quality of healthcare provided to their patients. Lucky for us here in the good ol' U.S. of A., we don't have those silly problems, because we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we're nowher near having to face those issues because our government is so quagmired in legal jargon and red tape that we'll never see the onset of universal healthcare for our citizens. At least not in our lifetime.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
It's the Heart That Matters More
I've been making a vain attempt over the last few days at posting some blogs that I've failed to post in the past as a result of them not being ready for publication because I was either too unsure or too lazy to post them at the time. They've gotten gummy with time and sort of unflexible in a way, and I'm thinking of trashing them entirely and moving on.
There is a part of me that wonders if when blogs get too old if it's best to let them just expire in a natural way rather than trying to relive them; forcing them back into being by trying to breathe life into them. Perhaps a life they're all to happy to let pass.
Or maybe it's that I've never given them a fair shake at life. Perhaps I need to reexamine what I was feeling and thinking at the time I began them. Maybe I was wrong about those blogs to begin with and all they need is a little time to ferment before they can reach their peak of flavor and richness.
Speaking of wine, I've had a bit this evening, so perhaps it's clouding my judgment. However, I do not think it is quite time to dispose of my dear friends just yet. They may yet have something to say. Something I'm not quite ready to discount. You never know. Sometimes the things closest to you have the capacity to surprise you even after you've known them for years.
Like that one time in My So-Called Life when Graham tells Patty that RuPaul strikes him as being pretty secure.
Okay, if you've never seen My So-Called Life, you probably aren't cool enough to be reading my blog.
There is a part of me that wonders if when blogs get too old if it's best to let them just expire in a natural way rather than trying to relive them; forcing them back into being by trying to breathe life into them. Perhaps a life they're all to happy to let pass.
Or maybe it's that I've never given them a fair shake at life. Perhaps I need to reexamine what I was feeling and thinking at the time I began them. Maybe I was wrong about those blogs to begin with and all they need is a little time to ferment before they can reach their peak of flavor and richness.
Speaking of wine, I've had a bit this evening, so perhaps it's clouding my judgment. However, I do not think it is quite time to dispose of my dear friends just yet. They may yet have something to say. Something I'm not quite ready to discount. You never know. Sometimes the things closest to you have the capacity to surprise you even after you've known them for years.
Like that one time in My So-Called Life when Graham tells Patty that RuPaul strikes him as being pretty secure.
Okay, if you've never seen My So-Called Life, you probably aren't cool enough to be reading my blog.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Proceed with Caution
Hello friend(s):
My blog is under construction, because as you know, I have been on vacation and haven't had a chance to do much typing. I am currently working on a few different things that have been in the works for awhile now as well as writing some new stuff which I plan on posting soon.
I wanted to get some of that up and running tonight, but as it turns out, I'm kinda tired, and I write better when I'm not falling asleaa;wwriha;lgi;oasdnigkn;aoign..............
Time for bed.
My blog is under construction, because as you know, I have been on vacation and haven't had a chance to do much typing. I am currently working on a few different things that have been in the works for awhile now as well as writing some new stuff which I plan on posting soon.
I wanted to get some of that up and running tonight, but as it turns out, I'm kinda tired, and I write better when I'm not falling asleaa;wwriha;lgi;oasdnigkn;aoign..............
Time for bed.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Lack
There are many terrible feelings in the world:
- Being lied to
- Stubbing your toe
- Hurting someone you love
- Being left by someone you love
- Realizing someone you thought was a friend is not a friend
- Papercuts
- Being hit in the face with a baseball bat
- Realizing you aren't going to grow up to be a cowgirl or a ballerina
The list goes on indefinitely. I'm going to make an argument that the worst of all bad feelings is the feeling of helplessness you often feel when someone you love, respect, and want nothing but the best for is suffering, and there is nothing you can do to help them.
Right now I really wish I had a magic wand that could make dreams come true. If I had one wave, I would wave it for Erin May Jackle.
I do not have such a wand.
- Being lied to
- Stubbing your toe
- Hurting someone you love
- Being left by someone you love
- Realizing someone you thought was a friend is not a friend
- Papercuts
- Being hit in the face with a baseball bat
- Realizing you aren't going to grow up to be a cowgirl or a ballerina
The list goes on indefinitely. I'm going to make an argument that the worst of all bad feelings is the feeling of helplessness you often feel when someone you love, respect, and want nothing but the best for is suffering, and there is nothing you can do to help them.
Right now I really wish I had a magic wand that could make dreams come true. If I had one wave, I would wave it for Erin May Jackle.
I do not have such a wand.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Return from Hiatus OR The Best Vacation EVER
Hello my dear friend(s). I am back from vacation, which incidentally was a vacation from blogging as well.
I was fortunate enough to have been able to take a trip to New Hampshire to visit my cousins and aunt and uncle and then travel on to Prince Edward Island, Canada.
To some people this might seem like a fairly boring vacation, but to me, that was the allure of it. For someone who has consistently been working at a job she hates for the last three months while trying to supplement her meager income by working part time for her father in the suburbs, generally resulting in a seven day work week, the lack of excitement was definitely the draw.
On the 31st of July, I left for New Hampshire and as soon as I got there, everything seemed instantly more enjoyable. I sat around and drank coffee all day, I read books, I listened to music, I debated the relative benefits of songs from Avenue Q (multiple times). I ate delicious New Hampshire food and walked around Manchester. I was able to view my cousin, Laura's films that she had completed throughout her junior year at Keene's film school (they were awesome - especially the claymation one). I got to hear all about my cousin, Alison's year of teaching English in China, which included many adventures, I agreed and disagreed with my cousin, Jade, on many issues, and I was able to see my cousin, Julia, play violin in a concert at her band camp (and also got a private concert in the living room while she practiced piano).
I got to have ice cream at Goldenrod. For those of you who have never had this distinct pleasure, I am sorry for you.
On Sunday the 2nd, we all piled in a van (pretty typical of my family) and made the long drive up to Prince Edward Island. We scared the customs officer.
When we finally arrived there, we were so happy to be out of the car after twelve hours of driving that we all decided to get back in the van and drive an hour to Charlottetown so that we could get Subway. Then we went back to the cabin to watch Anne of Green Gables on Wonderworks.
The next few days went by far too quickly, but I have decided that PEI just might be the most beautiful, natural, and peaceful place I've ever been. The potatoes there are the best I've ever tasted, everyone is friendly, and the scenery is absolutely breathtaking. I don't think I could let another fourteen years of my life pass without going back there.
One morning my sister and I got up early and went for a walk down the red sand streets and over the hills. We wandered around for about an hour and ended up behind someone's farm house. Standing there at the top of the hill looking at the old house and acres upon acres of nothing but plants and trees, I felt like I had traveled back in time. I never wanted to leave.
We came back down to New Hampshire and spent the next few days watching TV and going to the mall and checking out a Fisher Cats game (New Hampshire's minor league baseball team). It just reminded me of how much I miss the Northeast. Something about being there took me back to my childhood and to what I'm really like.
But coming home has reminded me that I can be happy here as well. And even during the commute downtown today on the crowded El train with all the crazy Chicagoans, I smiled to myself and thought what a beautiful day it was going to be.
I was fortunate enough to have been able to take a trip to New Hampshire to visit my cousins and aunt and uncle and then travel on to Prince Edward Island, Canada.
To some people this might seem like a fairly boring vacation, but to me, that was the allure of it. For someone who has consistently been working at a job she hates for the last three months while trying to supplement her meager income by working part time for her father in the suburbs, generally resulting in a seven day work week, the lack of excitement was definitely the draw.
On the 31st of July, I left for New Hampshire and as soon as I got there, everything seemed instantly more enjoyable. I sat around and drank coffee all day, I read books, I listened to music, I debated the relative benefits of songs from Avenue Q (multiple times). I ate delicious New Hampshire food and walked around Manchester. I was able to view my cousin, Laura's films that she had completed throughout her junior year at Keene's film school (they were awesome - especially the claymation one). I got to hear all about my cousin, Alison's year of teaching English in China, which included many adventures, I agreed and disagreed with my cousin, Jade, on many issues, and I was able to see my cousin, Julia, play violin in a concert at her band camp (and also got a private concert in the living room while she practiced piano).
I got to have ice cream at Goldenrod. For those of you who have never had this distinct pleasure, I am sorry for you.
On Sunday the 2nd, we all piled in a van (pretty typical of my family) and made the long drive up to Prince Edward Island. We scared the customs officer.
When we finally arrived there, we were so happy to be out of the car after twelve hours of driving that we all decided to get back in the van and drive an hour to Charlottetown so that we could get Subway. Then we went back to the cabin to watch Anne of Green Gables on Wonderworks.
The next few days went by far too quickly, but I have decided that PEI just might be the most beautiful, natural, and peaceful place I've ever been. The potatoes there are the best I've ever tasted, everyone is friendly, and the scenery is absolutely breathtaking. I don't think I could let another fourteen years of my life pass without going back there.
One morning my sister and I got up early and went for a walk down the red sand streets and over the hills. We wandered around for about an hour and ended up behind someone's farm house. Standing there at the top of the hill looking at the old house and acres upon acres of nothing but plants and trees, I felt like I had traveled back in time. I never wanted to leave.
We came back down to New Hampshire and spent the next few days watching TV and going to the mall and checking out a Fisher Cats game (New Hampshire's minor league baseball team). It just reminded me of how much I miss the Northeast. Something about being there took me back to my childhood and to what I'm really like.
But coming home has reminded me that I can be happy here as well. And even during the commute downtown today on the crowded El train with all the crazy Chicagoans, I smiled to myself and thought what a beautiful day it was going to be.
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