11.29.2004
EMO HAIR
So I tapped in to friendster today to see whether anyone wished me happy b-day (they did!) and to officially ask the boy to be my friendster again. We repress most of our quarrels into cyberspace, so we have this tumultous online relationship which up until now has been mediated by my cat. Anyways, while I was on Friendster, I noticed the top 10 searches in my social network:
- how to get your ex back (I have 2 friends trying to do that right now...)
- funny text messages (huh. The boy was just talking about this last night. Not sure he'd google it though, he's not that lame.)
- Henna Tatoo (thats got to be my sister and/or her crew)
- miss india texas (Weird.)
- filipino men (pron spam, must be. )
- emo hair
- the body language of attraction (could be anyone)
- a rave called sharon (probably the burners)
- what was i in a past life (could be anyone)
- he's just not that into you (could be any of my single friends, or me, actually)
Number 6 bugs me. I sit here for 20 minutes and click around my network, comparing lists, trying to figure out who was searching for Emo hair. Was it the Massholes at hippie school? No. The Emory grad student crew? No. The ATL professional crew? The gay DC boys? The NYC-HK Posse? The anti-folk singers? How did the phrase Emo hair come into my life? What is Emo hair? Do I want Emo hair? From what direction is the peer pressure for me to have emo hair coming from?
Anyways, I'm obsessed. I must know.
Robosapien
Curled up in the bath yesterday evening. Then I sat on the couch with a blanket and stared into space for a while. Then I made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and petted the cats. Then I read cheezy science fiction compulsively for a while and petted the cats some more. In this way, 6 or 8 hours passed. Around 2 AM I realized I'd pretty much re-enacted the first 15 years of my life. Then I went to bed.
As of 11/22 Ohio democrats are running a recount.. Won't change anything, won't restore trust to the electorate. Symbolic of progressives eddying around in the wake of the Bush administrations progress. On the plus side, my ex-boyfriend, very sweet boy, a bit fragile though, refused to speak a word to me after I abruptly dumped him last fall, yeah, he has started talking to me again around this issue. So as long as the recount story has legs, I think ex-boy and I can continue to exchange e-mails in a quasi friendly way. Go Ohio democrats.
Mr. Fish died. He froze to death on a cold night. I came home from a day and a night with the boy and Mr. Fish's eye was cloudy and he didn't move. Should not have left him near the window with only a desk lamp with an environmentally sound lightbulb for warmth. I had a little interrment ceremony for him in the backyard, much to Jack the Cat's delight.
Speaking of Jack the Cat, it perturbs me how little he misses his balls. Got up early on Tuesday and had him neutered. (sidenote: WH gives the best wakeup calls in the world. She's extremely cheerful and talks energetically for about 10 minutes, at which point the coffee's done and you've absorbed more about risk and clitorectomys than you ever thought was possible at 7:08 in the morning. Theres no slipping back under the covers after that jolt of energy.) As soon as the anesthetic wore off, Jack was as insouciant and whiny and curious as ever. Doesn't it matter to him? Doesn't he notice? Doesn't he care? I would expect a slight depression, or some grumpy resentment... but no. I don't think he notices their absence at all. Indestructable.
Had a wonderful Thanksgiving/Birthday weekend with the boy. He is going to Vietnam on Friday and I'm looking forward to the psychic peace. I'll miss him but I need a break. I want to get him some small trip related hanukah presents... compass, other backpacking through southeast asia gifts. Any tips?
You know what I'd really like to give him though: that new robot on the market, Robosapien. $99 bucks for a cool plastic friend who can pick up your socks and put them in the closet, or keep the cat off the table. I definitely want one, not for me, but for a geeky boy around me who will hack it and teach it how to do stupid mindless amusing things like.. recount ballots in Ohio and exchange political e-mails with ex-boyfriends I guess.
As of 11/22 Ohio democrats are running a recount.
Mr. Fish died. He froze to death on a cold night. I came home from a day and a night with the boy and Mr. Fish's eye was cloudy and he didn't move. Should not have left him near the window with only a desk lamp with an environmentally sound lightbulb for warmth. I had a little interrment ceremony for him in the backyard, much to Jack the Cat's delight.
Speaking of Jack the Cat, it perturbs me how little he misses his balls. Got up early on Tuesday and had him neutered. (sidenote: WH gives the best wakeup calls in the world. She's extremely cheerful and talks energetically for about 10 minutes, at which point the coffee's done and you've absorbed more about risk and clitorectomys than you ever thought was possible at 7:08 in the morning. Theres no slipping back under the covers after that jolt of energy.) As soon as the anesthetic wore off, Jack was as insouciant and whiny and curious as ever. Doesn't it matter to him? Doesn't he notice? Doesn't he care? I would expect a slight depression, or some grumpy resentment... but no. I don't think he notices their absence at all. Indestructable.
Had a wonderful Thanksgiving/Birthday weekend with the boy. He is going to Vietnam on Friday and I'm looking forward to the psychic peace. I'll miss him but I need a break. I want to get him some small trip related hanukah presents... compass, other backpacking through southeast asia gifts. Any tips?
You know what I'd really like to give him though: that new robot on the market, Robosapien. $99 bucks for a cool plastic friend who can pick up your socks and put them in the closet, or keep the cat off the table. I definitely want one, not for me, but for a geeky boy around me who will hack it and teach it how to do stupid mindless amusing things like.. recount ballots in Ohio and exchange political e-mails with ex-boyfriends I guess.
11.16.2004
Word of the Day:
Alovao, s. one who gets out of the way of visitors in order to escape from entertaining them. ‘Alovao, v. to avoid visitors by going away.
Take it easy, fi filemu
Alright, been readin' about the Mau.
Its so awesome, I love it.
My mom has told me small snippets of some of this - she told me about the flu of 1918 - a family anecdote about how her father had been called by a... village doctor because there were aitu - spirits or demons - killing everyone, and that he rode with the young men of the village to the capital, and on the way back, only 6 of 50 survived the trip.
I learn now that New Zealand had permitted a ship carrying the flu to dock in Samoa, spreading it there. 19% of the population died during the flu, others say 22% - compared to 5% in New Zealand.
I guess, after the flu, Samoans started a movement for sovereignty. They called it the Mau, and I wonder if that name had any influence from chinese immigrants at the time.
My mom also told me about the Mau - about how peaceful Samoans in the '30s had demonstrated for independance from New Zealand rule, which they achieved in 1962. I've seen a funny UN document discussing the difficulties of dealing with the Samoans, because they were peaceful and the country was completely unanimous, due to their government structure, which relied on a pyramid of discussions resulting in complete consensus that started at the family level, then to the village level, then to the state level.
Anyways, all my mom remembered was that there was a man who was shot by the kiwis, and as he died, he told his fellow demonstrators that they needed to keep the peace otherwise he would have died in vain. But it was Tupua Tamasese, the high chief - the king - who was killed.
Tupua Tamasese Lealofi IV, in a 1978 interview with the New Zealand Herald:
"When we heard the gunfire, my mother and my family were certain something had happened to my father."
"He hated violence but he would stand up to any force. Many times before he had been intimidated with guns and swords. He would just say, 'If you want to shoot us, go ahead, we will just die here.' "
"We have grown to regard New Zealand as aiga," he said.
Tamasese was a leader of the Mau and of Samoa. He played a larger role in the incident than my mother remembered:
Tupua Tamasese arrived at the 'Ifi'ifi-Beach Roads junction as Waterson began using the machine-gun. Frightened Mau supporters were still walking into the intersection, exposing themselves to machine-gun and rifle fire. Dressed in a white jacket and white lavalava, carrying a rolled-up umbrella and holding both his arms high in the air, Tupua Tamasese walked into the open calling out in both Samoan and English, "Filemu Samoa, peace Samoa." Standing between a lamp post and the administration offices in 'Ifi'ifi Road, just back from the intersection, he called up Beach Road to the oncoming Mau, "Uma, uma . . . onosa'i, onosa'i." Another witness said he called out to the Mau, "They are few, we are many, They are guests in our country . . ,".
After he was shot,
"The first person I met was Tamasese who was being conveyed in a vehicle to the hospital. We exchanged greetings. I asked him where he had been shot. He told me and added that he desired the festivities to continue. They continued for a time, but owing to the arrival of the wounded and the lamentations of the women the festivities then stopped."
And in dying:
A friend of Tupua Tamasese, barrister Isi Kronfeld, met the Mau leader at the hospital: "He greeted me with his usual boyish smile, his face beaming with courage." Tupua Tamasese was aware his end was near, and fearful of the consequences of both his death and the events of the day, made a dying appeal: ' My blood has been spilt for Samoa. I am proud to give it. Do not dream of avenging it, as it was spilt in maintainingpeace. If I die, peace must be maintained at any price.'
Nice. The bit about Tamasese wanting the festivities on the boat to continue is quite funny, but definitely believable. A few years ago, in Pago Pago, there was a luau for some political candidate. Shockingly, the candidate was assasinated at the party. The headlines the next day read: 'And the band played on, but it just wasn't the same.' The article described how the festivities continued, but people did not enjoy them as much.
One more: A Mau chant:
"Samoa! Samoa! the military police are coming,
The military police are coming to have a war with us,
We are frightened, we are frightened,
O Samoa! O Samoa!"
I love it.
OK. Night all.
Its so awesome, I love it.
My mom has told me small snippets of some of this - she told me about the flu of 1918 - a family anecdote about how her father had been called by a... village doctor because there were aitu - spirits or demons - killing everyone, and that he rode with the young men of the village to the capital, and on the way back, only 6 of 50 survived the trip.
I learn now that New Zealand had permitted a ship carrying the flu to dock in Samoa, spreading it there. 19% of the population died during the flu, others say 22% - compared to 5% in New Zealand.
I guess, after the flu, Samoans started a movement for sovereignty. They called it the Mau, and I wonder if that name had any influence from chinese immigrants at the time.
My mom also told me about the Mau - about how peaceful Samoans in the '30s had demonstrated for independance from New Zealand rule, which they achieved in 1962. I've seen a funny UN document discussing the difficulties of dealing with the Samoans, because they were peaceful and the country was completely unanimous, due to their government structure, which relied on a pyramid of discussions resulting in complete consensus that started at the family level, then to the village level, then to the state level.
Anyways, all my mom remembered was that there was a man who was shot by the kiwis, and as he died, he told his fellow demonstrators that they needed to keep the peace otherwise he would have died in vain. But it was Tupua Tamasese, the high chief - the king - who was killed.
Tupua Tamasese Lealofi IV, in a 1978 interview with the New Zealand Herald:
"When we heard the gunfire, my mother and my family were certain something had happened to my father."
"He hated violence but he would stand up to any force. Many times before he had been intimidated with guns and swords. He would just say, 'If you want to shoot us, go ahead, we will just die here.' "
"We have grown to regard New Zealand as aiga," he said.
Tamasese was a leader of the Mau and of Samoa. He played a larger role in the incident than my mother remembered:
Tupua Tamasese arrived at the 'Ifi'ifi-Beach Roads junction as Waterson began using the machine-gun. Frightened Mau supporters were still walking into the intersection, exposing themselves to machine-gun and rifle fire. Dressed in a white jacket and white lavalava, carrying a rolled-up umbrella and holding both his arms high in the air, Tupua Tamasese walked into the open calling out in both Samoan and English, "Filemu Samoa, peace Samoa." Standing between a lamp post and the administration offices in 'Ifi'ifi Road, just back from the intersection, he called up Beach Road to the oncoming Mau, "Uma, uma . . . onosa'i, onosa'i." Another witness said he called out to the Mau, "They are few, we are many, They are guests in our country . . ,".
After he was shot,
"The first person I met was Tamasese who was being conveyed in a vehicle to the hospital. We exchanged greetings. I asked him where he had been shot. He told me and added that he desired the festivities to continue. They continued for a time, but owing to the arrival of the wounded and the lamentations of the women the festivities then stopped."
And in dying:
A friend of Tupua Tamasese, barrister Isi Kronfeld, met the Mau leader at the hospital: "He greeted me with his usual boyish smile, his face beaming with courage." Tupua Tamasese was aware his end was near, and fearful of the consequences of both his death and the events of the day, made a dying appeal: ' My blood has been spilt for Samoa. I am proud to give it. Do not dream of avenging it, as it was spilt in maintainingpeace. If I die, peace must be maintained at any price.'
Nice. The bit about Tamasese wanting the festivities on the boat to continue is quite funny, but definitely believable. A few years ago, in Pago Pago, there was a luau for some political candidate. Shockingly, the candidate was assasinated at the party. The headlines the next day read: 'And the band played on, but it just wasn't the same.' The article described how the festivities continued, but people did not enjoy them as much.
One more: A Mau chant:
"Samoa! Samoa! the military police are coming,
The military police are coming to have a war with us,
We are frightened, we are frightened,
O Samoa! O Samoa!"
I love it.
OK. Night all.
11.15.2004
Its Getting Hot in Herre
Arafat died. ODB died. Powell resigned, along with a bunch of CIA staff.
Big week, I suppose, in some ways.
But I haven't been following the news, though I try to stay aware. Been cleaning up my lifestyle the last two weeks, and hobbies wise... well I'm turning my attention towards Georgia politics because I'm no slouch, and better dead than red. A couple of ideas:
Issues:
1. Environment:
- tie to McCain-Lieberman Climate Stewardship Act, and
- the release of Arctic Climate Impact Assessment report,
- areas of likely inundation on Georgia's coastline should the sea rise 1 meter
- hunting and fishing interests in GA (see recent Montana campaign)
- biblical values about caring for the land
- worries about asthma and congestion
2. Health care - looking at single payer plans
3. Voting rights -
Make election day a holiday
Paper trails
Tactics
1. Use religious language to articulate issues: 'creating a culture of life' platform that discusses 'choosing life,' refusing to give the government the power to say what only G*D can determine: when life begins, when it is so evil that it should end, etc., preserving the environment, endorsing gay marriage, and anything else I want to come under it. You think I'm kidding. Thats just because I haven't forced you to attend services yet and come back and report back on how we can form a Jewish/Catholic/AME/UU wedge in the religious red vote.
2. Looking at the liberatarian vote as folks who would break away from the republican party on particular issues, and as an indication of GOP weaknesses in this red of reddest states.
Need to find some good candidates. WH is currently tied up at Hahvahd, becoming more liberal than Ted Kennedy, I'm sure. In ten years, she'll be nice and ready for a Senate seat. In the meantime, I'll keep looking.
Also been interested in learning Samoan, finally. Need to memorize some vocab, then turn to grammar. I'm headed for another family reunion in 2006, and... well... it'd be nice to do a little research project on the Mau revolution. Go round and interview lots of old folks, do a nice little write-up. We'll see.
In other news, I've changed around all my furniture, been spending time at home. Went for a long run last night - mile jog, then stopped at a book store, then a fast 1/2 mile, then rest, then a fast 1/2 mile back, then warmdown to the hardware store to pick up a wrench and some drill bits, then slow jog back home. Feels good, still feel good. Once I get a good run on, I just want to keep on running. Sitting at home gets me into this weird rage and I just wanna run.
Cats are damn cute, they're spoiled southerners, won't go outside when the temperature dips below 50. I threw them out (literally: some dude was walking by and he cracked up, seeing my cats fly out and land on top of each other) because it was nice and warm in the afternoon, and after looking dazed and chilly for 5 minutes, they bounded back in. Lazy. Wait til it snows, I'm gonna photo them dancing on the frozen ground.
The BIB is the BIB. Dunno what to say. Had a long convo with WH last night, and after hearing his latest strange antics, she vowed to beat the shit out of him. Lol. Cheers.
L8r,
- ATLMmim
Big week, I suppose, in some ways.
But I haven't been following the news, though I try to stay aware. Been cleaning up my lifestyle the last two weeks, and hobbies wise... well I'm turning my attention towards Georgia politics because I'm no slouch, and better dead than red. A couple of ideas:
Issues:
1. Environment:
- tie to McCain-Lieberman Climate Stewardship Act, and
- the release of Arctic Climate Impact Assessment report,
- areas of likely inundation on Georgia's coastline should the sea rise 1 meter
- hunting and fishing interests in GA (see recent Montana campaign)
- biblical values about caring for the land
- worries about asthma and congestion
2. Health care - looking at single payer plans
3. Voting rights -
Make election day a holiday
Paper trails
Tactics
1. Use religious language to articulate issues: 'creating a culture of life' platform that discusses 'choosing life,' refusing to give the government the power to say what only G*D can determine: when life begins, when it is so evil that it should end, etc., preserving the environment, endorsing gay marriage, and anything else I want to come under it. You think I'm kidding. Thats just because I haven't forced you to attend services yet and come back and report back on how we can form a Jewish/Catholic/AME/UU wedge in the religious red vote.
2. Looking at the liberatarian vote as folks who would break away from the republican party on particular issues, and as an indication of GOP weaknesses in this red of reddest states.
Need to find some good candidates. WH is currently tied up at Hahvahd, becoming more liberal than Ted Kennedy, I'm sure. In ten years, she'll be nice and ready for a Senate seat. In the meantime, I'll keep looking.
Also been interested in learning Samoan, finally. Need to memorize some vocab, then turn to grammar. I'm headed for another family reunion in 2006, and... well... it'd be nice to do a little research project on the Mau revolution. Go round and interview lots of old folks, do a nice little write-up. We'll see.
In other news, I've changed around all my furniture, been spending time at home. Went for a long run last night - mile jog, then stopped at a book store, then a fast 1/2 mile, then rest, then a fast 1/2 mile back, then warmdown to the hardware store to pick up a wrench and some drill bits, then slow jog back home. Feels good, still feel good. Once I get a good run on, I just want to keep on running. Sitting at home gets me into this weird rage and I just wanna run.
Cats are damn cute, they're spoiled southerners, won't go outside when the temperature dips below 50. I threw them out (literally: some dude was walking by and he cracked up, seeing my cats fly out and land on top of each other) because it was nice and warm in the afternoon, and after looking dazed and chilly for 5 minutes, they bounded back in. Lazy. Wait til it snows, I'm gonna photo them dancing on the frozen ground.
The BIB is the BIB. Dunno what to say. Had a long convo with WH last night, and after hearing his latest strange antics, she vowed to beat the shit out of him. Lol. Cheers.
L8r,
- ATLMmim
11.12.2004
Samoa
Been dreaming a lot of Samoa lately.
Not sure why.
Theres something so beautiful about Samoa, something so simple and heartbreaking. Its the land, of course.. looking out from the shore and seeing the breakers on the barrier reef, and the clouds on the horizon, a couple of hundred miles away. Its the fruit trees everywhere, from centuries of people living off the land, spitting out seeds, cultivating mangoes and hibiscus everywhere. Its the 50 man marching band that parades down main street at 7AM every damn morning to raise the flag, a ritual they stole from the europeans but imbued with the Samoan spirit, that gentle, loving, caring, potentially violent but definitely un-fascist nationalism. Its the nightly rituals when families get together and discuss the day and plan the week and pray. Its the hot sun, and the free coconuts, and the old bag lady in the ocean finding 'little things to eat' and selling you a bottle for 3 dollars if you'll wait and eat with her for an hour. But really, its not the land or the food... after a week there, you take the sun and the ocean for granted. Its the people and the way of life. Theres not... a sense of history or future, but of eternity - of time collapsed. Everyone is doing what they have always done, so tomorrow and yesturday and today are the same.
The last time I left Samoa, I cried all the way to San Francisco. It was the ineffectual, colicky blue eyed toddler and his pinched, missionary mother in the Fagotogo airport, the beggars in Pago Pago, the Japanese tourists with their hardshell suitcases and italian ponchos in Honolulu, and in San Francisco, it was the cold. When I got back to Boston, I asked my dad if he cried or felt the same, and he said 'oh sure - every time.'
Reminds me of a childhood anecdote, my own which I remember and tell, rather than my parents recounting it to me. It was when we lived in the brown house in Martha's Vineyard, so I must have been between 2 and 4. I had a vague understanding of the days of the week, but tomorrow always confused me. Finally I asked, if today is Monday, and the day after that is Tuesday, and so forth, all the way back to Monday, when is Tomorrow?
Cute.
Not sure why.
Theres something so beautiful about Samoa, something so simple and heartbreaking. Its the land, of course.. looking out from the shore and seeing the breakers on the barrier reef, and the clouds on the horizon, a couple of hundred miles away. Its the fruit trees everywhere, from centuries of people living off the land, spitting out seeds, cultivating mangoes and hibiscus everywhere. Its the 50 man marching band that parades down main street at 7AM every damn morning to raise the flag, a ritual they stole from the europeans but imbued with the Samoan spirit, that gentle, loving, caring, potentially violent but definitely un-fascist nationalism. Its the nightly rituals when families get together and discuss the day and plan the week and pray. Its the hot sun, and the free coconuts, and the old bag lady in the ocean finding 'little things to eat' and selling you a bottle for 3 dollars if you'll wait and eat with her for an hour. But really, its not the land or the food... after a week there, you take the sun and the ocean for granted. Its the people and the way of life. Theres not... a sense of history or future, but of eternity - of time collapsed. Everyone is doing what they have always done, so tomorrow and yesturday and today are the same.
The last time I left Samoa, I cried all the way to San Francisco. It was the ineffectual, colicky blue eyed toddler and his pinched, missionary mother in the Fagotogo airport, the beggars in Pago Pago, the Japanese tourists with their hardshell suitcases and italian ponchos in Honolulu, and in San Francisco, it was the cold. When I got back to Boston, I asked my dad if he cried or felt the same, and he said 'oh sure - every time.'
Reminds me of a childhood anecdote, my own which I remember and tell, rather than my parents recounting it to me. It was when we lived in the brown house in Martha's Vineyard, so I must have been between 2 and 4. I had a vague understanding of the days of the week, but tomorrow always confused me. Finally I asked, if today is Monday, and the day after that is Tuesday, and so forth, all the way back to Monday, when is Tomorrow?
Cute.
11.03.2004
Lame Duck
Election Day was exhausting. I fell asleep shortly after polls closed. Woke up this morning on the floor next to pool table in the guest house in Tallahassee. I think I tried to get up in the middle of the night to wake up the BIB so we could drive back to Atlanta, and I didn't make it.
Said goodbye to the horses, the swimming pool, the lake, the trees, dragged myself into the car and we drove North. Through south Georgia. Cotton fields like snow in the hot sun, 'Abstinence Works - 100%' billboards, malls called Plantation Plaza. Listening to the election results on right wing talk radio, crying like an idiot.
Got home, said hi to the cats, went to work.
Whats there to say? Goldwater, Nixon, Agnew, McCarthy. This has been a long time brewing. Its going to be a long time fighting back. Four more years to plan. The environment, world peace - its worth it. Iraq, the economy, abortion, gay marriage, stem cell research, the war on drugs, gun control, fixed elections, sleazy campaign tactics.. theres gonna be volunteer work to do for ages to come.
What changed my mood from utter dispair?
Talking to cousin 007 and his guerilla tactics in NH - canvassing evangelical churches on a Sunday afternoon. Thinking about my grandmother, campaigning for Adlai Stevenson. And, humor. I got this stupid funny email today. Context: for the past month, Billionnaires for Bush chapterleaders have been discussing our post-election name. Round 3:30 PM today, I got this:
>> Sent: Wednesday, November 03, 2004 3:41 PM
>> To: 'chapterleaders@billionairesforbush.com'
>> Subject: [B4BChaptrLdrs] Post-election name...
>> Importance: Low
>>
>>
>> B4B Chapter Leaders Nationwide
>>
>> replies go to sender.
>> you may address messages to chapterleaders@billionairesforbush.com to
>> send
>> to the list
>>
>> So ... Billionaires for Bush it is?
>>
>>
>> _______________________________________________
>> chapterleaders mailing list
Billionnaires for Bush it is. Rock on.
In other news, BIB is back. Not that he's done anything wrong this time, just the trip was a real strain on the relationship, mostly because he was exposed to the incredible disorganization of my life, the disgusting state of my car and.. well, I don't know. I guess he wasn't exactly totally committed to being in FL. He missed out on his birthday party and some awesome halloween parties.
One thing that marred the trip was the BIB and this chick A. I like A. But I can't stand to see her near my guy. If she's at the bar, we're going home. Its one of those things where you see a girl give your boyfriend the 'what can we do - you have a girlfriend' shrug as they say goodbye. And my gut tells me he isn't arguing.
Somehow I liked it better when I was coming home to him missing me, saying 'welcome back' instead of him coming with me, seeing how messy I am when I'm living out of a car with no time for laundry, cleaning, etc., meeting cool beautiful funny new york lawyers. Sigh.
Said goodbye to the horses, the swimming pool, the lake, the trees, dragged myself into the car and we drove North. Through south Georgia. Cotton fields like snow in the hot sun, 'Abstinence Works - 100%' billboards, malls called Plantation Plaza. Listening to the election results on right wing talk radio, crying like an idiot.
Got home, said hi to the cats, went to work.
Whats there to say? Goldwater, Nixon, Agnew, McCarthy. This has been a long time brewing. Its going to be a long time fighting back. Four more years to plan. The environment, world peace - its worth it. Iraq, the economy, abortion, gay marriage, stem cell research, the war on drugs, gun control, fixed elections, sleazy campaign tactics.. theres gonna be volunteer work to do for ages to come.
What changed my mood from utter dispair?
Talking to cousin 007 and his guerilla tactics in NH - canvassing evangelical churches on a Sunday afternoon. Thinking about my grandmother, campaigning for Adlai Stevenson. And, humor. I got this stupid funny email today. Context: for the past month, Billionnaires for Bush chapterleaders have been discussing our post-election name. Round 3:30 PM today, I got this:
>> Sent: Wednesday, November 03, 2004 3:41 PM
>> To: 'chapterleaders@billionairesforbush.com'
>> Subject: [B4BChaptrLdrs] Post-election name...
>> Importance: Low
>>
>>
>> B4B Chapter Leaders Nationwide
>>
>> replies go to sender.
>> you may address messages to chapterleaders@billionairesforbush.com to
>> send
>> to the list
>>
>> So ... Billionaires for Bush it is?
>>
>>
>> _______________________________________________
>> chapterleaders mailing list
Billionnaires for Bush it is. Rock on.
In other news, BIB is back. Not that he's done anything wrong this time, just the trip was a real strain on the relationship, mostly because he was exposed to the incredible disorganization of my life, the disgusting state of my car and.. well, I don't know. I guess he wasn't exactly totally committed to being in FL. He missed out on his birthday party and some awesome halloween parties.
One thing that marred the trip was the BIB and this chick A. I like A. But I can't stand to see her near my guy. If she's at the bar, we're going home. Its one of those things where you see a girl give your boyfriend the 'what can we do - you have a girlfriend' shrug as they say goodbye. And my gut tells me he isn't arguing.
Somehow I liked it better when I was coming home to him missing me, saying 'welcome back' instead of him coming with me, seeing how messy I am when I'm living out of a car with no time for laundry, cleaning, etc., meeting cool beautiful funny new york lawyers. Sigh.
