Tuesday, October 21, 2008
another thing that made a girl cry
Well, folks, yours truly managed to work herself up into a bit of a tizzy last night over the not entirely unfounded fear that California is on the verge of enshrining discrimination and homophobia into its Constitution.
It was the weather that did it, to tell you the truth. I was thinking about how glad I was that it's getting cooler here in New York, for many reasons (soup season! hot chocolate season! rustling leaf piles! knitted scarf weather! Thanksgiving!), not least of which was that it's just about cold enough for Dave and Josh to pull out my wedding gift, and curl up beneath it together and have a good snuggle. The thought of this was immeasurably pleasing to me.
But then I got to wondering what will happen on November 5th if, on November 4th, Californians do decide to amend their constitution. Josh and Dave traveled all the way to California in July just to get married, and came home to New York under the promise that their own state would fully recognize their marriage. And these two men are two of the kindest, gentlest, most wonderful people in the world, and it breaks my heart to think that their love for each other might soon be relegated once again, legally speaking, to a second-class kind of love.
It's heartbreaking enough to have to constantly fight discrimination in the first place, but to have finally won equality, only to have it snatched away again, is just something that no one should have to endure.
I gave $100 to Equality California last week, on the recommendation of an old friend of mine whose law firm did some pro bono work on S14799. I wish that I could give more, thousands upon thousands more, but was at least gratified to see yesterday that Ellen DeGeneres (whom I don't know much about, but whom I kind of adore) finally put her money where her mouth is, so to speak, with a donation of $100,000. And my own mother called today to say that she and her husband are giving $100 too, if only to not be outdone by her mostly straight, if bald-headed, daughter.
It was the weather that did it, to tell you the truth. I was thinking about how glad I was that it's getting cooler here in New York, for many reasons (soup season! hot chocolate season! rustling leaf piles! knitted scarf weather! Thanksgiving!), not least of which was that it's just about cold enough for Dave and Josh to pull out my wedding gift, and curl up beneath it together and have a good snuggle. The thought of this was immeasurably pleasing to me.
But then I got to wondering what will happen on November 5th if, on November 4th, Californians do decide to amend their constitution. Josh and Dave traveled all the way to California in July just to get married, and came home to New York under the promise that their own state would fully recognize their marriage. And these two men are two of the kindest, gentlest, most wonderful people in the world, and it breaks my heart to think that their love for each other might soon be relegated once again, legally speaking, to a second-class kind of love.
It's heartbreaking enough to have to constantly fight discrimination in the first place, but to have finally won equality, only to have it snatched away again, is just something that no one should have to endure.
I gave $100 to Equality California last week, on the recommendation of an old friend of mine whose law firm did some pro bono work on S14799. I wish that I could give more, thousands upon thousands more, but was at least gratified to see yesterday that Ellen DeGeneres (whom I don't know much about, but whom I kind of adore) finally put her money where her mouth is, so to speak, with a donation of $100,000. And my own mother called today to say that she and her husband are giving $100 too, if only to not be outdone by her mostly straight, if bald-headed, daughter.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
terminating
Sarah and I have been talking termination lately. A somewhat silly, overblown word for a natural, if somewhat scary, process. We've decided on January.
Back in April, after having spent a year on anti-depressants and two months going off of them, I was trying to figure out what my real self felt like. And I found myself whining to Sarah, one afternoon, about wanting to be back on the Prozac, or on some other (any other) drug, if only to not be the type of person who cries so damned much. And she kind of looked at me funny and said something about there being so very many different ways of crying.
I have always been someone whose emotions hover pretty close to the surface. Sometimes this is good and sometimes this is bad, but part of what I've learned over these last few years of working with Sarah is that, in the end, it is what it is.
I am a person who cries a lot. I cry from sadness and I sob with glee and I tear up over being confronted with things as simple and as beautiful as a spectacularly blue sky just before dusk, forming a window to the heavens, framed by concrete and glass and metal in these urban Manhattan oases.
This is by all means embarrassing, and sometimes even mortifying, but it isn't going to change any time soon, and I'm realizing that I wouldn't really even want to change it anymore, even if I could. I like this emotionality in me, when it's not bogging me down in frustration or anger, or drowning me in sorrow, and I find I'm kind of running out of things to say to Sarah. Though the quiet, too, is comfortable in its way, it's getting on towards being time to say good bye.
These are some of the things that, in the last few days, have gotten me at least a little bit teary-eyed:
Listening to Colin Powell's endorsement of Obama (specifically from 4:27 to the end).
A row of trees at the NYS Sheep & Wool Festival.
Staring out at the Hudson River and listening to this horribly cheesy pop song while coming back to the city on the train this morning.
The closing credits music from The Wire.
Back in April, after having spent a year on anti-depressants and two months going off of them, I was trying to figure out what my real self felt like. And I found myself whining to Sarah, one afternoon, about wanting to be back on the Prozac, or on some other (any other) drug, if only to not be the type of person who cries so damned much. And she kind of looked at me funny and said something about there being so very many different ways of crying.
I have always been someone whose emotions hover pretty close to the surface. Sometimes this is good and sometimes this is bad, but part of what I've learned over these last few years of working with Sarah is that, in the end, it is what it is.
I am a person who cries a lot. I cry from sadness and I sob with glee and I tear up over being confronted with things as simple and as beautiful as a spectacularly blue sky just before dusk, forming a window to the heavens, framed by concrete and glass and metal in these urban Manhattan oases.
This is by all means embarrassing, and sometimes even mortifying, but it isn't going to change any time soon, and I'm realizing that I wouldn't really even want to change it anymore, even if I could. I like this emotionality in me, when it's not bogging me down in frustration or anger, or drowning me in sorrow, and I find I'm kind of running out of things to say to Sarah. Though the quiet, too, is comfortable in its way, it's getting on towards being time to say good bye.
These are some of the things that, in the last few days, have gotten me at least a little bit teary-eyed:
Listening to Colin Powell's endorsement of Obama (specifically from 4:27 to the end).
A row of trees at the NYS Sheep & Wool Festival.
Staring out at the Hudson River and listening to this horribly cheesy pop song while coming back to the city on the train this morning.
The closing credits music from The Wire.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
quote of the day
"If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence."
-George Eliot, Middlemarch, on the A-train, 10.15.08
-George Eliot, Middlemarch, on the A-train, 10.15.08
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
miscellaneous musics
Some o' the stuff I've been listening to lately:
sigur ros: saeglopur, gobbledigook
holden: ce que je suis, c'est plus pareil
the go find: new year
mum: green grass of tunnel, we have a map of the piano
cloud cult: medicine, pretty voice, breakfast
t-pain vs. cloud cult: collide you a drink
sigur ros: saeglopur, gobbledigook
holden: ce que je suis, c'est plus pareil
the go find: new year
mum: green grass of tunnel, we have a map of the piano
cloud cult: medicine, pretty voice, breakfast
t-pain vs. cloud cult: collide you a drink
Monday, October 13, 2008
quote of the day, or, 'my god is bigger than your god' and the embarrassment of playground politics
"I'd also add, Lord, that your reputation is involved in all that happens between now and November, because there are billions of people around this world praying to their god, whether it's Hindu, Buddha, Allah, that his opponent wins, for a variety of reasons. And Lord, I pray that you would guard your own reputation, because they're gonna think that their god is bigger than you if that happens. And so I pray that you would step forward and honor your own name in all that happens between now and Election Day."
(Convocation at McCain rally)
(Convocation at McCain rally)
Saturday, October 11, 2008
what the world revolves around (in which i try to come to terms with the fact it isn't me)
The mother of whom I wrote a few weeks ago passed away last Thursday, of complications from breast cancer. I have not seen her son, my friend, yet, though I am hoping to meet up with him tomorrow. He's set a date for a memorial service, with a reception to follow, and then a walk around a reservoir on a nature preserve in her honor.
The woman in charge of organizing the reception sent out a mass email asking if anyone might be willing to contribute snacks. I offered to bring a batch of cookies. Probably the meringues. Someone else offered to bring an 'elaborate trail mix,' for the walk, I suppose.
I saw, on this mass email list, my ex-boyfriend. And his not-so-new girlfriend. And my gut reaction was to feel pissed off. Annoyed. Angry. Maybe even a little bit jealous (He was my friend first! You never even met his mother!) and more than a little bit insecure (The not-so-new girlfriend is really nice! And really smart! And really pretty! Way nicer and smarter and prettier than the likes of me!).
Ever since the August wedding at which I had to make nice with them, there's been a huge sense of relief: for the first time in forever, he has not been much of a presence. There were no upcoming social events at which we would both be in attendance. No weddings, no birthdays, no funerals. And it was so very good.
Now here he is, lurking yet again on the horizon.
And of course the guilt kicked in immediately, along with the knowledge that I was being more petty and more selfish than even I could possibly imagine. A dear friend's mother is dead and I was upset about having to see an ex-boyfriend and my replacement at her memorial service.
I want to be a better woman, a better friend, even a better ex-girlfriend, than this.
Unrelated, mostly, but I thought I would mention here, given the lump post in September, that also last Thursday I finally made my way to my doctor's office and was given a clean bill of health.
The woman in charge of organizing the reception sent out a mass email asking if anyone might be willing to contribute snacks. I offered to bring a batch of cookies. Probably the meringues. Someone else offered to bring an 'elaborate trail mix,' for the walk, I suppose.
I saw, on this mass email list, my ex-boyfriend. And his not-so-new girlfriend. And my gut reaction was to feel pissed off. Annoyed. Angry. Maybe even a little bit jealous (He was my friend first! You never even met his mother!) and more than a little bit insecure (The not-so-new girlfriend is really nice! And really smart! And really pretty! Way nicer and smarter and prettier than the likes of me!).
Ever since the August wedding at which I had to make nice with them, there's been a huge sense of relief: for the first time in forever, he has not been much of a presence. There were no upcoming social events at which we would both be in attendance. No weddings, no birthdays, no funerals. And it was so very good.
Now here he is, lurking yet again on the horizon.
And of course the guilt kicked in immediately, along with the knowledge that I was being more petty and more selfish than even I could possibly imagine. A dear friend's mother is dead and I was upset about having to see an ex-boyfriend and my replacement at her memorial service.
I want to be a better woman, a better friend, even a better ex-girlfriend, than this.
Unrelated, mostly, but I thought I would mention here, given the lump post in September, that also last Thursday I finally made my way to my doctor's office and was given a clean bill of health.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
what i want for christmas
What I want for Christmas (other than, you know, world peace, Obama in the White House, and a winning lottery ticket) is this new ebelskiver pan.
My family has been making ebelskivers since time immemorial, traditionally for birthday or company breakfasts. Quite a few years ago I gave Nate an ebelskiver pan of his very own for Christmas and he began carrying on the family tradition in fantastic fashion, even upping the ante by adding blackberries or bits of banana to the ebelskivers (unheard of in my parents' purist ebelskiver interpretation, involving nothing more than simple 'skivers, powdered sugar, and preferably Mom's home-made raspberry jam).
But now, what with Nate far away on the West Coast, I'm thinking perhaps it's about time I indulge in purchasing one for my own kitchen. I'm not quite sold, though, on this Williams-Sonoma version. The one I bought for Nate was, I think, solid cast-iron and heavy enough to brain a moose with. This one looks a little lightweight, bantam-esque even.
On the other hand, it only costs half the price of that cast-iron monster, so maybe it's worth a go.
My family has been making ebelskivers since time immemorial, traditionally for birthday or company breakfasts. Quite a few years ago I gave Nate an ebelskiver pan of his very own for Christmas and he began carrying on the family tradition in fantastic fashion, even upping the ante by adding blackberries or bits of banana to the ebelskivers (unheard of in my parents' purist ebelskiver interpretation, involving nothing more than simple 'skivers, powdered sugar, and preferably Mom's home-made raspberry jam).
But now, what with Nate far away on the West Coast, I'm thinking perhaps it's about time I indulge in purchasing one for my own kitchen. I'm not quite sold, though, on this Williams-Sonoma version. The one I bought for Nate was, I think, solid cast-iron and heavy enough to brain a moose with. This one looks a little lightweight, bantam-esque even.
On the other hand, it only costs half the price of that cast-iron monster, so maybe it's worth a go.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
ken blackwell & voter fraud
Kenneth Blackwell, a former secretary of state of Ohio, had a little rant this week about the horrors of ACORN and the looming possibility of voter fraud. Now, it is true that ACORN has had its run-ins with, you know, maybe falsifying a voter registration form now and again. And it stands to reason that with increased numbers of people registering to vote (though who in America would, at least publicly, say this is a bad thing?) come increased chances of voter fraud.
But what the Ken Blackwells of the world refuse to cop to is the fact that voter fraud often comes in the form of Republicans trying to suppress the vote. Maybe he doesn't remember his own role in attempted voter suppression in the form of the 2004 Paper Stock Standoff of Ohio. And maybe he's forgotten the story about the fairly standard practice of purging voter rolls and how horribly wrong it went in Florida in 2000. Or the story of Republican congressional candidate Tan Nguyen and the infamous letter. And I can't help wondering what Jesus would think about the notion of using people's housing misfortunes to prevent them from voting, as is apparently being attempted by the Republican party in several states.
So yeah, voter fraud might be a problem. But it seems to be a problem of denying people their right to vote rather than, as Blackwell would have us believe, a problem of "extremist" groups like ACORN pushing people to vote. (Oddly enough, Blackwell doesn't provide any examples of individual voter fraud. He simply seems to think that increasing the number of voters is itself somehow indicative of fraud. And he uses Florida as an example, but individual voter fraud was not the issue in that election. Quite the contrary, the problems there predominantly concerned eligible voters not having their votes counted, whether due to hanging chads, the butterfly ballot, or the purging of eligible voters from the voter rolls. Correct me if I'm missing something here.)
Blackwell himself writes, "Voter fraud is a crime against democracy itself, because voting is the only means by which the people choose those who govern them - and hold them accountable."
In this, he is absolutely correct. So we should all take advantage of our right to vote, and fight anyone who tries to take that right away from people.
And as an aside, Ohio? Way to go in showing this blowhard the door in his race for governor in 2006. And I mean that seriously.
But what the Ken Blackwells of the world refuse to cop to is the fact that voter fraud often comes in the form of Republicans trying to suppress the vote. Maybe he doesn't remember his own role in attempted voter suppression in the form of the 2004 Paper Stock Standoff of Ohio. And maybe he's forgotten the story about the fairly standard practice of purging voter rolls and how horribly wrong it went in Florida in 2000. Or the story of Republican congressional candidate Tan Nguyen and the infamous letter. And I can't help wondering what Jesus would think about the notion of using people's housing misfortunes to prevent them from voting, as is apparently being attempted by the Republican party in several states.
So yeah, voter fraud might be a problem. But it seems to be a problem of denying people their right to vote rather than, as Blackwell would have us believe, a problem of "extremist" groups like ACORN pushing people to vote. (Oddly enough, Blackwell doesn't provide any examples of individual voter fraud. He simply seems to think that increasing the number of voters is itself somehow indicative of fraud. And he uses Florida as an example, but individual voter fraud was not the issue in that election. Quite the contrary, the problems there predominantly concerned eligible voters not having their votes counted, whether due to hanging chads, the butterfly ballot, or the purging of eligible voters from the voter rolls. Correct me if I'm missing something here.)
Blackwell himself writes, "Voter fraud is a crime against democracy itself, because voting is the only means by which the people choose those who govern them - and hold them accountable."
In this, he is absolutely correct. So we should all take advantage of our right to vote, and fight anyone who tries to take that right away from people.
And as an aside, Ohio? Way to go in showing this blowhard the door in his race for governor in 2006. And I mean that seriously.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
quote of the day
"Biden knows that he has to avoid being arrogant about his hard-won knowledge of world affairs without reducing everything about foreign policy to the level of 'Dr. Seuss Does Geopolitics.'"
-Walter Shapiro, The Big Veep Showdown
-Walter Shapiro, The Big Veep Showdown
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
'sweat is my sanity' and other bon mots from palin
She's a feminist (:20) because she believes in equal rights (except when it comes to equal pay for equal work, at least if she agrees with her running mate) and because she had the opportunity to fill her freezer with good wild Alaskan game to feed her family.
She mocks Joe Biden for being so damned old (2:27), being a mere six years younger than her running mate.
She reads all the news (3:00)! But can't name a single news source, and turns the question into an attack on Alaska when pushed on the matter.
She's willing to discuss her personal views on abortion (4:50) but somehow just can't seem to answer in the role of an elected official -- would she or would she not work to ban all abortions? It seems a simple question, and if she's as unapologetically pro-life as she claims, she should have no qualms about answering it. I mean, we don't care how she would "counsel" people, we want to know if she's gonna force women back to the coathangers (or knitting needles or broken soda bottles) of yore.
She has a lesbian friend! Whom she loves! Though she disagrees with the woman's life choices (8:00), and chose, herself, to be not gay!
Lastly (Palin-wise, at least), an interesting comparison between Palin and Biden answering similar questions on Supreme Court decisions with which they disagree.
And really lastly, McCain spent almost an hour with reporters from the Des Moines Register yesterday and got a little testy. Shockingly enough.
She mocks Joe Biden for being so damned old (2:27), being a mere six years younger than her running mate.
She reads all the news (3:00)! But can't name a single news source, and turns the question into an attack on Alaska when pushed on the matter.
She's willing to discuss her personal views on abortion (4:50) but somehow just can't seem to answer in the role of an elected official -- would she or would she not work to ban all abortions? It seems a simple question, and if she's as unapologetically pro-life as she claims, she should have no qualms about answering it. I mean, we don't care how she would "counsel" people, we want to know if she's gonna force women back to the coathangers (or knitting needles or broken soda bottles) of yore.
She has a lesbian friend! Whom she loves! Though she disagrees with the woman's life choices (8:00), and chose, herself, to be not gay!
Lastly (Palin-wise, at least), an interesting comparison between Palin and Biden answering similar questions on Supreme Court decisions with which they disagree.
And really lastly, McCain spent almost an hour with reporters from the Des Moines Register yesterday and got a little testy. Shockingly enough.
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