Mad World

Helen Hill died January 4, 2007.

I did not know Helen Hill, but it still makes me terribly, terribly sad. But the sadness is overcome by outrage to learn that she was murdered in her home. And it hits that much harder because she was a friend of the SOOTTAD's. As was her husband. As is her husband.

When the SOOTTAD told me about it, she described them as "two of the most purely nice, kind, loving, creative people I have ever met." And all I could think was, what is wrong with the world? What kind of world do we live in where such a thing could happen? Where such a thing could happen to people like this?

The headline in the New York Times -- "Just Days Into the Year, Killings Toll Hits 8 in New Orleans" -- seems absurdly distant. Same for the Shreveport Times. Another body count in a world full of violence. You could quickly scan it and wander off, troubled but largely untouched. I know these things happen, but knowing them, even once removed, cuts to the quick. The connection brings it into sharp relief, and yet it isn't necessary to have that connection to feel its impact. It was fundamentally a terrible thing to happen. A terrible thing to happen to anybody. It sparks anger, outrage and then more sadness.

And yet the despair currently surpasses the outrage right now.

I think about the insulated worlds in which I move. In school, I'm in contact with many people who want to be healers, people who want to make a living making the world a better place. Lots of warm fuzzies flying all around. A hopeful place. It makes me want to bring understanding into my perspective. People can be swept up by the tide of circumstance; desperation can cause people to do terrible things. But this seems to go beyond my understanding. I can't put myself in a context where one could do such a thing and still be within my perspective, my values, my world.

And I am left finding that I can only ask, how can you heal from a thing like this? All I can think to do is try and cherish all the good that we still have and do our best to protect and fortify it against all the bad that is swirling around us, but there seems to be something fundamentally wrong with that too...

The world's gone bad, and I wonder if it's gone past the point of no return.

Before and After

Also known as, what I did on my winter vacation...

Master bedroom

Second bedroom

Third bedroom

Gotta get back to the everyday craziness -- it's been a pretty painful transition so far. There's still plenty more to be done, but it probably won't get dealt with in any kind of appreciable way until the SOOTTAD is back from Chicago for good later this month.

Holiday Spirit

I've been kinda out of sync with the whole holiday season thing this year.

Case in point, it's Christmas Eve and I spent most of the day painting one of the rooms in the new house and then went for a run before it got too dark. And now I'm sitting home alone at my computer (homes alone what with the new house also being unoccupied) trying to figure out what I'm going to make for dinner. I'm hoping to go out for drinks with some friends later tonight.*

It's just not feeling particularly Christmas-y except for the part where I have to take into consideration whether stores are going to be open and realizing that most people either aren't around or are off doing family things. (Like the SOOTTAD, who's already at the parental homestead.) I haven't been exposed to much of the commercial holiday onslaught because I don't really watch TV, haven't done much (any) shopping (at least in any kind of retail venue) or really been out and about in any kind of traditional/mainstream public space. It's a testament to the busy, I guess. In fact, the first time the whole Christmas music thing really was noticeable was at lunch Friday at a fairly mainstream "Mexican" restaurant in the area. (A regrettable meal, I'm sad to say.)

Anyway, it was an odd feeling seeing the decorated houses on my run (somehow seeing the Christmas tree through a window hits home more than the lights and decorations out front), noticing clusters of parked cars in some neighborhoods where a family gathering was probably taking place or the occasional family packing into a car, presumably heading off to just such a gathering, only elsewhere.

It's actually the first year I haven't flown back to California for holidays. In the past, I've always visited for at least a few days, even if I had to fly out on Christmas day or spent much of my time working at the computer.

But things were just too crazy this year. I knew we were closing on the new house in the middle of December and would have to deal with fixing things up before the SOOTTAD moved back. There was a possible business trip to Texas the week before Christmas. (It thankfully fell through, but still made travel planning difficult.) And I was also feeling a bit reluctant leaving the sick kitty to the care of others. (I trust my friends, but I didn't want to burden them with the frequent medication, supervised feedings, daily poop-scooping, and the general stress and anxiety caring for a ward whose condition could go quickly from bad to worse.) And when I'd normally be planning my flights, I was feeling overwhelmed dealing with the new work project, school demands, a sick kittycat, and new house details, not to mention trying to provide moral support to the SOOTTAD, all on top of managing the normal everyday business.

It was just too much to deal with, so I punted. It was probably the right decision, but it still makes me a little sad. And I've definitely been feeling it more the last few days. I kind of hoped that my parents would decide to fly out and visit me instead. Supposed to be a mild winter this year, y'know. But, no... and I didn't really try to push the issue.

Anyway, after my run I made my first active acknowledgement of the holiday season by putting on Vince Guaraldi's Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. I'm listening to Soma-FM's Christmas Lounge broadcast now.

During the run, I was thinking about all this. How I was feeling a bit down. A bit frustrated with the slow progress on the house. Bummed that the SOOTTAD had to leave yesterday afternoon because of filial obligation. That I was left to paint alone. That I couldn't drum up any friends to help me. That I had to fend for myself for dinner tonight. I was hopeful that I could at least hang out with some friends tonight, but that plan fell through too.

But... it is what it is, and I suppose it's as it should be. These little twists and turns, I assume, I hope, have some reason.

After all that, I still felt, I still feel, an underlying sense of gratitude. I'm kinda bummed right now, but in the grand scheme of things, life is good. I have a roof over my head. (Two, even, were I to need it.) I'm worrying about WHAT I'm going to have for dinner, not *IF* I'm going to have dinner. I'm not with my family right now, but I know they're there, and that they love me. I have many, many friends, new and old. The SOOTTAD will be back tomorrow, and actually, I'll be heading out to spend the day with her family.

When I finished my run, the sun had already dipped beneath the horizon but the part of the sky that was still light was still a deep amber and orange. I ended up watching it slowly faded into a sort of pale brightness, silhouetted by the leafless trees around the neighborhood. It was no idyllic, snowy New England winter scene, but it was still a beautiful sight.

Walking back home, I wished on a star.

I guess I'm getting into the spirit of things in my own way.

Happy holidays, folks.

* A friend of mine apparently has a long-standing tradition of going out drinking at Charlie's Kitchen every Christmas Eve with some friends. I was hoping to join them, but this year, one member of the group has a girlfriend who's hosting a dinner and it turned out that the dinner ran late and they had to bag it for the first time in several years. My luck these days, it seems.

Pluses and minuses

Cat1 & Cat2, November 2006

Baloo, who I've been referring to as Cat2 here, has been very sick for the past several months and took a turn for the worse this week after the most recent round of chemo*. He seemed to have dramatically less strength and stability in his legs (than the already low baseline of the last few weeks), he wasn't really eating or drinking and was just hiding in the basement for a good part of the evening and following morning.

When I took him to the vet for his appointment the next day, he really wasn't looking good, and talking over the options, I was having a hard time keeping my shit together. Actually, let's be honest: I pretty much completely lost my shit while talking to the vet. I hate it when I can't keep it together. But yeah, he wasn't doing well. The vet remarked that he looked pale (possible low red blood cell count) and that he had a fever, and she talked about the possibility of hospitalization, more testing, antibiotics, a possible blood transfusion, all with a pretty poor prognosis. I was basically thinking that I wanted him to be home in a familiar environment, and wanted the SOOTTAD to be able to spend some time with him as she was flying in the next day (today) before, well, you know...

They left me alone to sob uncontrollably in peace, and I eventually got most of it out of my system or under control, or, well, something. While waiting for the assistant to return, I tried giving him reiki** just hoping that it might make him more comfortable. It turns out there were a number of uncharacteristic snafus including lost samples, and the vet being called into a meeting of some kind -- I was kind of shellshocked and it didn't really phase me at that point. In the end, we decided not to get the bloodwork test results rushed (STAT!), and I took him home with an IV bag of fluids that they had showed me how to administer and the plan was just to keep an eye on him and the vet would call when she had more information.

Through the afternoon, Boo settled down awkwardly on the bed upstairs. It raised my spirits ever so slightly that he chose the bedroom over the darkened basement, but I was still worried. Cat1 (Stimpy, named by the Ex, who for the present we will simply refer to as Tubby McEatsalot because he's been chowing down on all the food Boo hasn't wanted) spent the day with him, and I actually tried to work from bed for a while so I could spend more time with him.

The vet called with the test results: low RBC count as expected, high WBC count -- an indication of a possible infection. Instead of taking him in for more tests, we opted for prescribing a course of antibiotics, which meant another trip back to Angell. I went after dinner, and stopped in on a friend before heading home, and when I got back, he actually came downstairs, crying for food and drinking some water.

We'll take the small victories.

Of course, the downside to the feel-good experience of seeing the cat upstairs amongst the living, is discovering that while he was feeling well enough to want to sleep upstairs through the afternoon and evening, he wasn't feeling quite well enough to actually make it back downstairs to the litterbox. And finding a bed soiled with cat pee some time after midnight just before you're going to climb into it really isn't on my list of the best things in life. Yay, full load of laundry at 1am.

But, y'know? For now, I'll take it.

* Yes, he's getting chemotherapy. One of these days I'll actually get into all that.

** So, uh, yeah, I did a Reiki workshop last month. There's a story there too, but I'm not sure I'll get around to writing about it.

A quick observation on Waltham demographics

During a brief stop at the local Shaw's Victory Hannaford's Supermarket down by Main St, I saw not one, but two other asian dudes over six feet tall.

Represent, yo.

Still here

AEM06 Day 8 -- flipbook
Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Hey.

I hadn't really planned on doing AEM this year, but then I decided that I'd do it. And then I figured I'd quit because I had so much other stuff going on. (which was why I wasn't going to do it.) And then I found myself doing art everyday anyway. And then I tried to dial it back.

But it's been just little things here and there, and I haven't really had the time or inclination to post. I figured I'd just check in, say hi, and give y'all a peek at what I've been up to*, which has mostly been listening to this one Leo Kottke song over and over and over again (which surprisingly, hasn't gotten boring... yet), sketching some ideas, figuring out how to use Macromedia Flash. It's been a good break from work, but at times it's gotten a little distracting. (I'm only now starting to recover from staying up late Sunday night/Monday morning.)

Anyway, I thought I might try to visualize how particular scenes would look by making little flipbooks rather than doing it directly in Flash so I went to Staples and bought a pack of scratchpads for the task. I haven't made a flipbook in ages and it's a nice change (along with the Flash stuff) from my usual pen and ink drawings and pencil sketches -- it's been fun.

So anyway, expect only sporadic posts. Hopefully I'll see you around.

* If you're curious about the Flash stuff, drop me a line and I can send you a link to the work in progress. I don't want to post it because it isn't done and I'm hosting it on my personal site that doesn't have a lot of bandwidth.

I listen to Mike, but he's kind of an dick

Mike-FM is one of those new 24/7 shuffle play stations that boasts about their lack of DJs and makes the claim that they "play everything." Whatever. As far as the DJ thing, yeah, they have no DJs, but they do seem to play a lot of bumpers. This becomes relevant later. And as far as the "we play everything" thing, they play everything about as much as Bob's Country Bunker plays BOTH kinds of music (Country AND western.) It's mostly 80's and 90's rock and new waves with some 70's R&B, disco and saccharine pop thrown in. As I said, whatever. I actually kind of like the mix they play, and when they play something that I don't like or find boring, I change the station. No big deal.

Anyway, you may have heard the news: Deval Patrick won the gubernatorial race yesterday. First black governor for the state. First Democratic governor in 16 years. I'm pretty good with all that.

So on the drive into work this morning, I was listening to Mike, and they aired a bumper congratulating the governor elect. Sort of. Backhanded compliment. I don't remember the exact wording, but it essentially suggested that Patrick won because he spent the most money on the campaign. ("glad to see that money talks" or some such.) I looked it up -- it WAS the most money ever spent by all the candidates on a campaign, but the biggest spender in the end was apparently the Republican candidate, Lieutenant Governor Kerry Healey. So, um, yeah. I guess some money also doesn't talk.

Yeah, that rubbed me the wrong way. (Duh, if it hadn't I wouldn't be here writing about it 12 hours later.) I thought about it though. I tried to be fair; I tried to rationalize it.

This is America, I thought, everybody is allowed to voice their opinion. Freedom of speech is guaranteed by the Constitution. (And let's not go into all that business about who controls the channels by which people's voices are heard.)

And it's a radio station that prides itself for it's irreverent style, and they're all about courting that world-worn, cynical late-thirty, forty-something demographic sweet spot. Of course, there's this pattern I've been noticing. I remember being annoyed in the past when they had a bumper making fun of Mike Dukakis. I mean, sure he looked kind of ridiculous sitting in the tank with that helmet on, but uh... that was like, what, almost 20 years ago? I think there's been a Kennedy bumper too.

And sure, this state is largely Democratic, so I can certainly understand that if you're going to be making politically-flavored snarky comments (and for the moment, we'll ignore whether or not it's appropriate to be making politically pointed comments in the first place, 'cos y'know, other broadcasters have suggested that you shouldn't cause controversy) you're going to target the people in power, the ones who hold the political majority. But we've had a Republican governor the entire time that WMKK has been around and I can't remember a single snip at Governor Mitt Romney, even when he was off on his Republican roadshow making fun of his "home state" of Massachusetts.

Not much of a point really, just mixed feelings about listening to Mike, although these days, I've been listening to CDs more anyway.

whoops

Playing with flash the evening and now it is about 2 hours until sunrise. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day. *sigh*

AEM06 Day 3 - Still Fighting It

Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

I was listening to SUNNY16 on the drive up to work and thought that it might be fun to try and make a video for the song "All you can eat." Not a new idea (that is, I've wanted to make videos before for other songs) but nothing usually comes of it -- maybe an idea for a scene or two, maybe even a few sketches, but nothing more.

But who knows, maybe for AEM. We'll see, we'll see.

I get some propaganda email from amazon later in the afternoon, pushing... Ben Folds transcriptions. Hmm. Keeps Ben Folds on the brain today, at any rate.

Thoughts return to the video. I need to get the song onto my computer, but I've been having issues ripping CDs on my laptop (the last time I tried, the bundled software would only rip to WMV format unless I upgraded... no thanks) so I wandered over to the Ben Folds website to see if there were any free downloads there... and ended up watching videos. I'm a sucker for videos. I hope I can get back on track, but I'm rationalizing now. Maybe something will inspire me at least... and hey, I kind of like the composition from one of the scenes in the video for "Still Fighting It" so I decided to sketch it.

Voila, entry for the day.

As a side note, the title of the song resonates in interesting ways in my brain. It initially conjures up the constant struggle I've been having trying to deal with all the things that need to get done these days. It's overwhelming. And yet, here I am carving out more of my precious time to draw. (And there's struggle there too.) And then to blog. There is no time for blogging and yet ... here I am. Blabbity blah blah. Lots of things on my mind these days but, no time. I have to go to bed. But I recognize the need to create, the need to express. It's food for the soul.

And then the song itself is actually about growing up, or trying not to, and basically failing. And that too is interesting, having wandered over to Molly's site today and read some of her Prego Saucy writings. And I see the change from how she was before. And I've reflected on change and growth and identity. And today it seems that I'm thinking about it in the context of this growing up business that seems to be happening all around me -- new houses, weddings, babies -- all that adult, grown-up stuff. And I recognize that while I'm not feeling old, I am wondering whether maybe I'm doing something wrong, like I got off the bus a few stops early and while I've enjoyed hanging out in these here parts, I wonder if I was supposed to be somewhere else by now. And the question becomes: is another bus going to come along at some point or, to mix metaphors, did I miss the boat?

Honestly, it's nothing so dramatic as that. While things are crazy busy and I've been a little on-edge and cranky, I do think that things are coming together. I am buying a new house. I'm getting married (again). And well, yeah, we're talking about that other thing too.

Ok. It's late, and I gotta get up early for a frisbee tournament tomorrow morning. later.

AEM06 Day 2 - Bad Day at the Office

Originally uploaded by tallasiandude

'nuff said.

And so it begins...

Doodles Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Kat is doing Art Everyday Month again this year -- do art everyday for the month of November. (I guess that's kind of self-evident.) I really got into it last year but I've been flat-out crazygonuts busy so I really didn't plan on joining in on the fun this year. There's just too much stuff going on. I keep thinking that I'll write a post about the daily breakdown of my day, but there are at least 3 other posts that have been in the draft stage for more than a month, so I wouldn't count on it. Suffice it to say that on average, I have about 5 hours a day of official "free time" which (at least abstractly without any context) seems like a good chunk of time to get things done, but when it comes down to the brass tacks, and I'm cramming laundry, paying bills, exercise, classes and homework into that time, there's not a lot of wiggle room for general decompress time or social time with friends. I've finally started squeezing in time to read the bookclub book (because I've had the damn thing checked out of the library for almost two months), I haven't really played piano since spring. Picked up the guitar for about 15 minutes yesterday, and immediately felt guilty afterwards. So finding time to make art is definitely going to be a challenge.

So what the hell do I think I'm doing?

Well, for one thing, I know that, like exercise, it's good for me. It's good to get the creative juices flowing. In some ways, it's like therapy. I enjoy getting lost in the process, and even more often, the surprise at the outcome. And I think it's good to have something external provide the incentive to keep going once in a while. And really, sometimes I really do just need a kick in the butt to get me going.

The other thing is that it seems like a pretty good exercise to try out my new "failure plan." The explanation for which is in one of the aforementioned languishing draft posts. But if you're curious, you can probably get the gist of it from Steve Pavlina's article Are You a Failure Germaphobe?

Failure germaphobe? Yes, yes I am. And I'd talk more about it, but I've got a bunch of stuff I need to get done before going to bed.

Reflecting on the bad guy

So I'm feeling like I'm a bit more on an even keel today and was thinking about my post from the other day.

First off, I realized that there is actually an exception to my No Money For Phone-Callers Rule: students raising money for school programs, specifically, my high school and college, the college fencing team in particular. I remember the days we had to do an annual "Phonathon" for the fencing team. I hated it, but it was something we had to do (along with other unpleasant activities like getting up at 8am to clean up parking lots after football games) to raise funds, presumably because we didn't have that much funding -- I think the phonathon and gruntwork was actually built into the budget. I never stopped to wonder whether the football or hockey players ever had to do that kind of thing. For some reason, I doubt it (at least the early morning cleanup crew business), but you never know. Anyway, I always remember how awkward it was for me to call up random alumni asking for money so I try to make the process and simple and painless as possible.

The other thing I was thinking about was the whole checkout fundraising thing. I have come to realize that when it comes to people asking me for money, I really would prefer to be left alone altogether. I don't like phone calls, I bitch about spam and I complain about junk snail mail. I guess I find the least obtrusive of them to be the snail mail, but I can understand how that's not a good option for underfunded local organizations. And really, the number of trees that die for junk mail is just absurd and depressing.

So how do these organizations raise money? Certainly my preference would be that they be publicly funded, but I recognize that it's reasonable to be concerned about a government that grows too comfortable spending other people's money, but what often seems lacking in that debate is properly making the distinction between charity and the investment in infrastructure and projects that benefit society at large and as a whole. But the question remains, how does an organization reach the right people who are interested and able to give to the cause?

I was thinking about this when I was checking out at the local Hannaford's where they had little coupons that you could use to donate money for breast cancer research. (apparently it's for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation which supports research and community outreach.) Frankly, scientific (and specifically medical) research does seem to be a perfectly appropriate place for the government to be spending money (seeing as the drug companies seem perfectly happy spending their own resources developing meds to help you keep your hard-on), but that's neither here nor there. The main point is that maybe supermarkets (and other businesses) are the right place to reach people. Certainly, it's a good place to provide information and help develop awareness of causes that are in need of funding. My personal preference would be that they just provide information that I could take with me so I could decide whether or not I wanted to write out a check once I got home rather than hit me up for a buck at the register, but perhaps I'm just not your average bear.

But in the meantime, I may need to rethink my default phone response.

Making myself out to be the bad guy

I have a thing about unsolicited phone calls.

If someone calls me up and asks for money, the answer will always be no. Period.

I don't care how good the cause is. I don't care if they just want me to "pledge" some figure that they suggest. I figure giving in just encourages bad behavior. I'll usually try to be nice, but the longer they persist, the more inclined I become to just hanging up on them.

So, just as I was starting to eat dinner tonight, the phone rang. I was hoping it was the SOOTTAD, but ended up picking up to the voice of a gruff voice asking for a Mr. or Mrs. SOOTTAD. At this point, my brain has already identified that somebody is calling the house off of some mailing list and is preparing to make this person go away:

There's no SOOTTAD here. (this has actually been an effective tool for other unsolicited calls since she moved away.)
"Is this [my address]?"
Yes, but there's no SOOTTAD here.
"What's the address there?"
(ok, so now I'm getting a little annoyed) Can I ask who's calling?
"Waltham Fire Department"

He says something about raising money for this and that and then actually goes off on how he can't read the writing on the sheet to properly pronounce the name (the SOOTTAD's last name) and how he can read his own writing but not this writing on the piece of paper he's looking at and then finally asks who I am.

The conversation takes a serious nosedive at this point, but he does get my name and I learn that the Waltham Fire Department (or rather, what sounds like the local union or lodge) is raising money for Waltham youth sports and some equipment (I think for both the aforementioned youths and the fire department themselves.)

I'm sorry. Youth sports? You mean for the kids I don't have? Like the youth sports that don't let me get permits to use the athletic fields in my town? Those youth sports? [To be fair, I'm actually okay with my taxes going towards schools and generally supporting education and after-school activities. I'll probably have kids of my own someday, but I also believe that it benefits society as a whole as an investment in the future. But that's neither here nor there. Just don't call the house and ask for money. Especially on a Sunday night when I'm eating dinner.]

And if the money is for equipment for the fire department, it begs the question, why doesn't the fire department already have the equipment it needs? Isn't that what my taxes are for? I mean, is this like the whole body armor thing?

And I hate to bring it up, but it really bothers me when public services ask for money. I've had the same feelings when police organizations have called. I'm sure it's a bad thing for me to even mention it, but in the back of my mind, I always wonder whether they keep tabs on these sorts of things and it might somehow affect the response time in the case of an emergency. Crazy, I know, but well... there it is: my brain going off and doing its own thing.

And fire department aside, what is up with all the businesses that are soliciting their customers to make donations for this charity, cause or what-have-you? There are a bunch of little orange cards (presumably shaped like pumpkins and bought for some nominal donation) taped to the inside window of the Staples down the street; the local Shawr's routinely asks me if I want to buy a [name seasonal paper icon here] for a dollar for [insert another good cause here]. Crickey, they even asked me for a donation in the Wendy's drive-thru for some education or children's charity fund. I think once upon a time, when a corporation pledged that they would give a certain amount of money towards a good cause, they'd actually DONATE THE MONEY THEMSELVES, not hit up their customers. Apparently these days you can get street cred by simply getting other people to give money for you. Bah.

But regardless, I hope there are no fires here any time soon.

Learn Chinese

Learn Chinese
Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Heh. Nice timing.

Powerful choices

Some changes can be life-changing. Others, not so much.

Yesterday, I got an offer in the mail to change power suppliers. Dominion (a name that doesn't exactly give me warm fuzzies) is offering to provide electricity to Massachusetts residential customers at an 20% discount to NSTAR's residential basic service rate.

Hey, that actually sounds pretty good.

I guess that deregulation legislation is finally paying off. Almost 10 years later, but let's not pick nits here, some things just take time. It seems like we may actually have real competition here.

...except, that's not their regular rate, it's a special offer; you have to sign up by October 31st. And if that doesn't give you the sense that they want you to hurry up and act now! you might want to take note that they're only offering the rate to the first 25,000 customers who respond. Oh, and the rate only lasts through December 2006. (That's two months for those of you keeping track at home.)

Oh, and supposedly it owns one of the dirtiest power generation stations in the state. Company representatives have suggested that they've made efforts cleaned the place up, (kicking and screaming the whole way, but again, let's not pick nits) and switching to them will support "a company that is working to clean up the local environment through air quality improvements."

There's something to their argument -- it costs money to make those improvements, after all -- but at the moment, given the other issues I have with their offer, I think I'll let my inertia move me, and stay with being disgruntled about NSTAR.

It's too bad identifying another supplier wasn't more straightforward. I mean, the easy choice for me if I had it would be the green alternative from Mass Energy (who I use to purchase my heating oil), but they don't offer it to NSTAR customers.

Oh well.

Lightness against mounting darkness

My only hope right now is that the badness of the recent legislation (can you say arbitrary, unbounded detention and torture?) can be undone, either by the courts or perhaps a more rational legislature. (I hope I'm not being uncharacteristically optimistic or characteristically naive.)

But until then... Free Hugs.

Ceding the floor to Mr. Wheaton

The debate over this has been troubling me for the past several weeks, and has aggressively sapped my spirit in the last day or so. It has festered. It darkens the world around me.

And it feels completely outside of my control.

I don't really like talking politics in the workplace -- I prefer to keep my personal life and my opinions separate -- but I vented with (at?) coworkers during lunch anyway. (It seemed to help a little, albeit only briefly.) I called my Senators; it felt empty, hollow. (Although I appreciate the words Kerry has spoken. But they are just words, not action.) And I feel powerless*. (And however cynical it may seem, I do believe that's sort of the idea.) Powerless and paralyzed.

And then I read Wil's Statement of Conscience:

"What the House did yesterday, the Senate looks to do today, and the President will surely enact as soon as possible, is a direct assault on American values, and contrary to everything our country stands for. Though cynically and cowardly enacted as a purely political tool during an election, those who supported this bill do not speak for me, do not act in my name, and do not reflect my values.

"Torture is not an American value."

Yes.

Thank you.

Thank you for giving a clear and eloquent voice to my thoughts and feelings when all I could do was oscillate between sullen hopelessness and seething anger and frustration.

Ok, I'm going to try and pull myself together and get some work done.

*I'm trying to work on some personal growth stuff right now, so this statement doesn't sit well. In my mind, I'm thinking of it as a rhetorical device because I think it's important that I know that I'm not powerless. I have control over my life, and the hard part is trying to navigate how things affect me, how I affect them, how identity is defined and how I define it. And all that.

Late, lately

Late tomatoes
Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

The tomatoes have come late this year, partially due to me being so distracted and discombobulated this past spring that I didn't really get a chance to deal with the garden until very late into the planting season (one might say past the planting season, and then not really dealing with it properly), and partially due to an oddly cool and rainy spring and early summer. The melons got a similarly late start, but it looks like they'll be ready before the first frost hits. (Sadly, the yield looks to be about one melon per plant, but hey, I HAVE MELONS!) I did manage to get proper grapes for the first time which was pretty exciting as well as ample carrots and long beans, but we may get only a handful of fruits from the volunteer tomato plants, if they ripen at all. (So far, I've eaten two small yellow pears that ripened sufficiently.)

But, anyways...

I wasn't really thinking about the garden so much as about the general discombobulation of everything right now. I keep planning to post something, but life stuff gets in the way, and by the time I have enough time to gather my thoughts and set virtual pen to virtual paper, the thoughts have gotten listless and wandered off to find something more interesting to do. And once I've stopped writing for enough time, I start questioning whether or not whatever it is that's currently occupying my mind is worth taking the time to sit down and write about it. ...if I could find the time, of course.

So yeah, feeling kinda discombobulated. It was probably just a shock to the system -- the structure and workload vacuum over Labor Day weekend and the listlessness that accompanied it, followed subsequently by the inevitable return of work and the commute and schedules and school and homework and practice sessions, and fall hat starting and... Cat 2.*

Anyway, discombobulated...

We're in the last semester of school, but at the moment, I'm not feeling particularly excited about finishing, I just want it to be done. I'll probably get back into the swing of things, but for now -- eh. It doesn't feel like there's enough time to do the things I want to do, the things I need to do.

Speaking of which, I need to get to bed. Class tomorrow and all.

* Cat 2 was throwing up a lot this year. I was kind of registering it in the back of my head, but it wasn't until the school term was almost over that I actually articulated that he was throwing up pretty much every day. Sometimes more than once.

Vet time.

The diagnosis has progressed from Inflammatory bowel disease to GI lymphoma to possibly some mono-something-or-other to multiple myeloma. In other words, we've been going through a lot of testing and I've been making a lot of trips to Angell in JP, which is a bit tiresome, but still necessary as far as I'm concerned. but hey, I now know how to get to JP from Storrow via the Fenway and Riverway.

So that's been kind of a bummer for most of the summer, but what can you do, y'know? We're just trying to nail down the diagnosis so I can give him the right meds. Things haven't gotten any worse -- he seems to be keeping food down reasonably well and seems alright other than being skin and bones. It seems like he's always hungry which is a good sign, I think.

Fear-mongering + Racism = Irony

And of course, this time it's in the U.S. at JFK:

Man not allowed to board plane until shirt with the words "We will not be silenced," written in Arabic and English, is removed or covered-up.

I'd say we've hit a new low, but sadly I think it's entirely possible for him to have been treated even worse.

Raising my Ire

I have another post in the works, but this news report I caught today just ticks me off:

Mutiny as passengers refuse to fly until Asians are removed

Thank you, you fear-mongering bastards.

Now, not only am I supposed to be afraid of hair-gel bearing terrorists, but now I have to worry about some *other* passengers or, potentially worse, some poorly-trained security drone down the road thinking *I* might be a terrorist if I happen to be checking my watch too frequently or am wearing a heavier coat because I didn't want to deal with a larger piece of luggage. I guess that lack of fluency in another language is really paying off for me right about now. And ditching the long hair, too.

Some Good commentary at The Mahablog.

Ironically, I deleted a post on fear and terrorism and never got back to a post I was going to title "No Escape" on how I couldn't get away from all the recent political bullshit flying around since the Connecticut Democratic Senatorial primary and the latest terrorist plot (and conspiracy theories on the questionable timing of the announcement -- does anyone remember the last time Pakistani intelligence led to a premature raid in the UK? Oh right, Here's a reference, it was about a week after the Democratic National Convention in 2004.)

And for what it's worth, I think it's entirely reasonable that Joe Lieberman is still running for re-election, despite losing the Democratic primary -- he is the senator for the entire state of Connecticut after all, not just the Democrats. Forcing him to withdraw because he's not towing the party line feels like something out of the playbook from some Cold War era totalitarian state ...or the Republican party. Which doesn't change the fact that he's a hypocritical, sycophantic lapdog serving an evil and corrupt administration.