I very much enjoyed Howard Dean.
But poor guy blew his load too early....screamed within the first minute of being on stage! Ya gotta wait for it...tease them for awhile, man!
I took away a few good points. I agree, this country is more divided than it has probably ever been. That can't continue. But can Kerry really change that? Does anyone really think he's really that good? Sure, 50% of our population is going to be fired up beyond anything we've seen so far if Bush is reelected. But I believe the same goes if Kerry is elected. The possibility of either one of them unifying us is stacked against such unpredictable odds. I'm usually more optimistic than this. I just don't know.
The head of one of the leading polling organizations in the country was on the Daily Show last night. Of course Stewart asked him...so, these "undecided" people, what do they tell you? What are they THINKING? I mean, do they even have phones?
But the guy was right....most of them, most of us, we just aren't sure about Kerry. And that sucks. I mean, we disagree with many of Bush's decisions, especially that of invading Iraq without proof of the need to do so, but Kerry is really not our knight in shining armor.
Poor Dean...the best comparison was made by the Hub...in standing there on stage having to say such nice things about Kerry, he was kind of like Chief Inspector Dreyfus, standing up at Clouseau's funeral to say nice things about him, all the while ducking behind furniture to pound his fists in frustration. I don't mean that Dean's words were dishonest...much of what he said made sense to me, especially his ideas about the little man needing to run for office...but sometimes his statements regarding Kerry just weren't emphatic enough. Other than that, however, I found his convictions to indeed be believable...would we have been better off with him?
He was kind to the audience, especially to those who would disagree with him, and got immediately and obviously angry when one questioner was booed. Of course he stressed the need to vote, regardless of who your vote was for, although he was pretty much preaching to the choir. I would be embarrassed at the end of this election to be someone who says they didn't vote. People who are still that apathetic and ignorant after all this will be shunned in ways we just haven't seen before in an election.
I'm getting alot of flack from some people about this 'undecided' business. I don't feel that's fair. In an election this close, my decision is going to make a difference. I am entitled to take as much time making up my mind as I need, up until 8 p.m. Tuesday. There are people I know who might be disappointed regardless of which way I go. It's this stuff that makes people like me just want it to be over.
Then, I'll go back to writing about more important things. Like my observations on gravity, and tooth decay, and pencils.
We should all go back to pencils.
...and I approve this message.
10.29.2004
10.28.2004
Fair and Balanced, That's Me!
...and just to prove it, after the Mike Gallagher immersion,
tonight I go see Howard Dean.
Ok, not that balanced, but what the heck.
I'm hoping that he realizes that the best thing he can do in front of a college audience to make everyone walk away loving him is....
scream again.
In fact, it should become a trademark. He can be the politician that's not afraid to yell "Booya!" on the Senate floor when he gets his way.
Perhaps followed by a rousing "Who's yo daddy?!?!"
tonight I go see Howard Dean.
Ok, not that balanced, but what the heck.
I'm hoping that he realizes that the best thing he can do in front of a college audience to make everyone walk away loving him is....
scream again.
In fact, it should become a trademark. He can be the politician that's not afraid to yell "Booya!" on the Senate floor when he gets his way.
Perhaps followed by a rousing "Who's yo daddy?!?!"
Boo!
I would have much preferred being the pumpkin, but this guy's kinda cute.
Time for some more pumpkin soup!!!!
You're a skeleton!! You enjoy halloween as much as
anybody butyou're not so sure about the cold
weather! Remember to wrap up warm, you need it
more than most!
"A spooky hallowe'en quiz!"
brought to you by Quizilla
Time for some more pumpkin soup!!!!
You're a skeleton!! You enjoy halloween as much as
anybody butyou're not so sure about the cold
weather! Remember to wrap up warm, you need it
more than most!
"A spooky hallowe'en quiz!"
brought to you by Quizilla
10.27.2004
News
Please don't let me be the only one seeing the humor in these articles being right next to each other on CNN.com:
• Study: Americans growing taller and wider
• Scientists find bones of 'hobbit-sized' ancient humans
If this trend is any sign, how big will our SUVs be in another 18,000 years?!?!
• Study: Americans growing taller and wider
• Scientists find bones of 'hobbit-sized' ancient humans
If this trend is any sign, how big will our SUVs be in another 18,000 years?!?!
Sun + Driving + Music = Late Getting Home From Work
Today is a much needed long awaited partially sunny day!
It's been much too long for a good drive...just not as much fun in the clouds and rain. I feel I need to lighten the mood after that last post...let's have some fun! It's hump day!
For the drive home, there will be no CD. Unless there's one in the glove compartment saved for an emergency such as this.
If I don't keep slacking on the Really Good Driving Songs, my intention is my own compilations. You are more than welcome to find and download the songs and burn them at your own risk. Perhaps it will improve your winter driving experience, and you can think of me when you have a driving epiphany, or when you get lost.
Really Good Driving Song: Turn It On by The Flaming Lips
Letting You Know
The level of personal information that a writer chooses to display in their own weblog is a very concious decision. But for me, a very fickle one. There are days when I may keep no secrets from you at all, and for no particular reason feel like describing every detail of my day, my thoughts, my work, my friends. I prefer not to give you real names, but aside from that, there is very little protection of the innocent.
Of course there are days, possibly a lingering teenage self-preservation tactic, where I want you to know nothing. And I write nothing. Or nothing of "substance".
Point is, I've been made aware of the fact that I don't really talk about my husband very much here. (Hmm, should I publish this...?) Is there a reason for that? My jury's still out. But for now, no. I guess it's just that I see this as an individually personal venue. Of course, many of the things I do each day or events I witness include him. Anytime I use the word "we", I've assumed it's obvious I'm talking about him. But the observations I make here are my own, the feelings are my own, and though we may agree or disagree on each particular topic, or pehaps not even discuss them at all, I have always been a very independent person and I suppose this writing is a manifestation of that.
I truly hope his feelings aren't hurt by this apparent lack of inclusion. That is most certainly not my intention. As I said, it's not even a concious decision.
Perhaps it's this: in my mind, you are not the person you marry. You are two people moving forward with your lives together, making decisions together, and every day making the decision to continue living your life in near parallel with each other. When we look back on our memories in the last few years, they always include each other, and I am very happy that they do. When we look forward, we like to think that the future will include each other as well. But the individual doesn't get replaced by the union.
Some people would see this as an extremely selfish way of thinking. I don't see it that way. I don't mean that my own desires, wishes, needs or wants supercede those of us as a married couple. But if you cannot continue to be the person you are, if you cannot go on doing the things you love to do, even if those things you enjoy doing alone, even if those are things your spouse does not like to do, then your own personal happiness suffers and, consequently, I would think the happiness of your union would suffer. There are things we absoultely love to do together. Those are equally as important. There are things he enjoys that I don't. I would never wish to take those away either.
We are all a delicate balance. And I'm happy, today, to let you know I think that.
Of course there are days, possibly a lingering teenage self-preservation tactic, where I want you to know nothing. And I write nothing. Or nothing of "substance".
Point is, I've been made aware of the fact that I don't really talk about my husband very much here. (Hmm, should I publish this...?) Is there a reason for that? My jury's still out. But for now, no. I guess it's just that I see this as an individually personal venue. Of course, many of the things I do each day or events I witness include him. Anytime I use the word "we", I've assumed it's obvious I'm talking about him. But the observations I make here are my own, the feelings are my own, and though we may agree or disagree on each particular topic, or pehaps not even discuss them at all, I have always been a very independent person and I suppose this writing is a manifestation of that.
I truly hope his feelings aren't hurt by this apparent lack of inclusion. That is most certainly not my intention. As I said, it's not even a concious decision.
Perhaps it's this: in my mind, you are not the person you marry. You are two people moving forward with your lives together, making decisions together, and every day making the decision to continue living your life in near parallel with each other. When we look back on our memories in the last few years, they always include each other, and I am very happy that they do. When we look forward, we like to think that the future will include each other as well. But the individual doesn't get replaced by the union.
Some people would see this as an extremely selfish way of thinking. I don't see it that way. I don't mean that my own desires, wishes, needs or wants supercede those of us as a married couple. But if you cannot continue to be the person you are, if you cannot go on doing the things you love to do, even if those things you enjoy doing alone, even if those are things your spouse does not like to do, then your own personal happiness suffers and, consequently, I would think the happiness of your union would suffer. There are things we absoultely love to do together. Those are equally as important. There are things he enjoys that I don't. I would never wish to take those away either.
We are all a delicate balance. And I'm happy, today, to let you know I think that.
10.25.2004
Mashuga
I would like to turn everyone's attention to one of the Fotolog links I've added on the right. Mashuga's Fotolog is a project by a professor at Bloomsburg University, near my hometown of Drums, PA. I've had it on my own log's Friends/Favorites links since the start, but he's become somewhat more of a celebrity since then. His project is to photograph the homeless in NYC and also Wilkes-Barre, PA, also near Bloomsburg. Recently he has been the subject of an NPR story and also on Brazilian television (Brazil has quite a few Fotologgers).
Mashuga's site has special significance to me, since a few years ago my younger brother was homeless on the streets of Wilkes-Barre. I showed him the pictures and he said he knew or recognized a couple of the WB subjects. In my brother's case, he was lucky and found a job and got off the streets. It was a series of poor life choices that led him there, mainly financial, and as far as I know had nothing to do with drugs or alcohol. His life has still been hard since then, and I think he still struggles even though he works hard.
Not long ago, one of Mashuga's WB homeless subjects passed away from lung cancer. His name was Paul, and my brother said he knew the guy but "didn't like him". He was just a "bitter old man" or "just an asshole". I don't really know why my brother had this opinion of him; I wonder if it partially has to do with a distaste for anyone who is still homeless, since he freed himself from it. It is fortunate for these people that Mashuga's site has become so popular...Paul received cards or letters from people all over the world. Unfortunately, it was only after he died that the shelter he stayed at (the same that my brother stayed at) was able to locate his estranged brothers, who had been searching for him for years. They were able to go to Mashuga's site and see their brother and all the comments people had left for him.
Please listen to the NPR story here. I thank God we haven't lost my brother the way Paul's family lost him.
Mashuga's site has special significance to me, since a few years ago my younger brother was homeless on the streets of Wilkes-Barre. I showed him the pictures and he said he knew or recognized a couple of the WB subjects. In my brother's case, he was lucky and found a job and got off the streets. It was a series of poor life choices that led him there, mainly financial, and as far as I know had nothing to do with drugs or alcohol. His life has still been hard since then, and I think he still struggles even though he works hard.
Not long ago, one of Mashuga's WB homeless subjects passed away from lung cancer. His name was Paul, and my brother said he knew the guy but "didn't like him". He was just a "bitter old man" or "just an asshole". I don't really know why my brother had this opinion of him; I wonder if it partially has to do with a distaste for anyone who is still homeless, since he freed himself from it. It is fortunate for these people that Mashuga's site has become so popular...Paul received cards or letters from people all over the world. Unfortunately, it was only after he died that the shelter he stayed at (the same that my brother stayed at) was able to locate his estranged brothers, who had been searching for him for years. They were able to go to Mashuga's site and see their brother and all the comments people had left for him.
Please listen to the NPR story here. I thank God we haven't lost my brother the way Paul's family lost him.
Battleground State
We had the opportunity on Friday night to see conservative radio's Mike Gallagher at Penn State University. There were many details surrounding his visit, namely his own personal disgust that Michael Moore's visit on the same night was paid for by Student Activity Fees. The visit by Moore supposedly cost $30,000, more than half of which, Gallagher claims, goes directly to Moore. Gallgher's plan was to raise money through donations by coming to PSU on the same night and giving all of the money he raised towards $15 gift boxes for the troops in Iraq. He raised almost $70,000 (about $2000 being his own donation). Due most likely to the fact that both events took place on the same night, protestors were few.
Since I posted earlier regarding my "undecided voter" status, you may be wondering what made me decide to attend Gallgher's event over Moore's, since it would have been possible for me to attend either. Moore's event was also free, and in a much larger venue. Gallagher was showing the film FahrenHype 9-11, which claims to falsify many assertions in Moore's Fahrenheit 9-11. He was also showing a second film which we didn't stay to see, the Carlton Sherwood production Stolen Honor.
Did the event persuade me? I'm still making up my mind. I have yet to see Fahrenheit 9-11, but I promise all of you and myself I am going to see it this week. And then, I'll probably toss both films out of the decision making process. Really, I think both of these guys are too radical for me. Gallagher may have done right in my mind for donating all that money to the troops, but it concerns me that we've gone back to relying on propaganda films to make up our minds in a presidential election. Like I said before, I want facts I can believe in, not accusations and negativity, and I feel like these facts are hard to come by. Is Moore's film really a lie? Quite possibly. Is FahrenHype 9-11 a lie? Well, if one side can twist the words and edit the footage and play you with emotional accounts, why wouldn't the other?
I think there were only two things that had an effect on me at the event, one of which may influence my vote and the other just an interesting observation. Three of the guests who spoke briefly with Gallagher were soldiers who had returned from Iraq. Obviously they were there to voice their support for Bush and to remind people of their dedication to the war. But the greeting they received from the crowd was louder and longer and more emotional than any Gallagher received, and it was great to see the looks on their faces of humility and surprise at how wonderful the crowd was to them. Whether you think the war is right or wrong, it doesn't matter, but I hope that people understand how much they need to know that people care about them and are thankful that they are doing their jobs with such devotion. They don't have to, they want to; they volunteered to do it.
The other observation that just surprised me was the kind of people that made up the crowd. I went there completely expecting to be one of the youngest, but there were many more young college and even high school students. There was a crowd of hard core punk kids, more metal and black and chains and spiky black hair than I ever though I'd see there. Also, most well known hippie in town, Chuck. Now that threw me. He sat with us, actually, and started going off about the economy in ways that I didn't even understand. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about, but I know nothing about intricate economic details and don't pretend to, so I was admittedly a bit lost. But I rarely hear him talk about anything other than bands or his farm, so it was really interesting and just a bit funny to see him with his torn tie-dye and dreads mingling with the old fogies.
I'd like to think that I'll tell you what my decision is whenever I finally reach it. I suppose I might, if I do reach one. I'm going to force myself to read every single article about local officials this week, because I'm thinking right now that I should be more concerned with them than I have been. I also can't wait to write about my poll-working experience. Stay tuned and wish me luck!
Since I posted earlier regarding my "undecided voter" status, you may be wondering what made me decide to attend Gallgher's event over Moore's, since it would have been possible for me to attend either. Moore's event was also free, and in a much larger venue. Gallagher was showing the film FahrenHype 9-11, which claims to falsify many assertions in Moore's Fahrenheit 9-11. He was also showing a second film which we didn't stay to see, the Carlton Sherwood production Stolen Honor.
Did the event persuade me? I'm still making up my mind. I have yet to see Fahrenheit 9-11, but I promise all of you and myself I am going to see it this week. And then, I'll probably toss both films out of the decision making process. Really, I think both of these guys are too radical for me. Gallagher may have done right in my mind for donating all that money to the troops, but it concerns me that we've gone back to relying on propaganda films to make up our minds in a presidential election. Like I said before, I want facts I can believe in, not accusations and negativity, and I feel like these facts are hard to come by. Is Moore's film really a lie? Quite possibly. Is FahrenHype 9-11 a lie? Well, if one side can twist the words and edit the footage and play you with emotional accounts, why wouldn't the other?
I think there were only two things that had an effect on me at the event, one of which may influence my vote and the other just an interesting observation. Three of the guests who spoke briefly with Gallagher were soldiers who had returned from Iraq. Obviously they were there to voice their support for Bush and to remind people of their dedication to the war. But the greeting they received from the crowd was louder and longer and more emotional than any Gallagher received, and it was great to see the looks on their faces of humility and surprise at how wonderful the crowd was to them. Whether you think the war is right or wrong, it doesn't matter, but I hope that people understand how much they need to know that people care about them and are thankful that they are doing their jobs with such devotion. They don't have to, they want to; they volunteered to do it.
The other observation that just surprised me was the kind of people that made up the crowd. I went there completely expecting to be one of the youngest, but there were many more young college and even high school students. There was a crowd of hard core punk kids, more metal and black and chains and spiky black hair than I ever though I'd see there. Also, most well known hippie in town, Chuck. Now that threw me. He sat with us, actually, and started going off about the economy in ways that I didn't even understand. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about, but I know nothing about intricate economic details and don't pretend to, so I was admittedly a bit lost. But I rarely hear him talk about anything other than bands or his farm, so it was really interesting and just a bit funny to see him with his torn tie-dye and dreads mingling with the old fogies.
I'd like to think that I'll tell you what my decision is whenever I finally reach it. I suppose I might, if I do reach one. I'm going to force myself to read every single article about local officials this week, because I'm thinking right now that I should be more concerned with them than I have been. I also can't wait to write about my poll-working experience. Stay tuned and wish me luck!
My Neighbor Wears This Funny Mask...
I was completely freaked out Friday night by the 2003 remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I don't do well with scary movies, though I always say I love them. And I do. I saw the original at least 7 years ago, and I would like to watch it again now that I've seen the new one. Anyway, for those of you who didn't know, movies such as this one were loosely based on a true story, the life of Ed Gein. As scary as the films are, I suggest you watch the A&E Biography of him instead. The fact that our society can breed such deranged lunatics as he was, and that he can live within a small town for years without his sick, bizarre activites being discovered, is without question the most disturbing truth of the whole matter.
Lock your doors.
Lock your doors.
10.22.2004
10.20.2004
My Legs Are Too Short To Catch Up To Your Heightened State Of Awareness
I do not keep up on new music, and I rely on friends and blogs to say "Hey, _______'s 523rd CD is really good, but not as good as number 78."
Having said that, I am in love with Ellis. Thanks to internet radio.
If you love her too, good; if you loved her three years ago, don't tell me as it will spoil my excitement.
(Yet Unproven But Still Has To Be A) Really Good Driving Song: I Gotta Thing by Ellis
Having said that, I am in love with Ellis. Thanks to internet radio.
If you love her too, good; if you loved her three years ago, don't tell me as it will spoil my excitement.
(Yet Unproven But Still Has To Be A) Really Good Driving Song: I Gotta Thing by Ellis
Don't Lead Me, Just Make Sure I Don't Get Shot
As the (goddamn, can't we just get this over with?) election looms near, I don't know which candidate (fence-rider, undecided, flip-flopper, wishy-washy, once again, can't this be over?) I am voting for.
I'm sorry if this offends you.
So for the sake of giving my internal monologue a voice, because right now its only giving me a headache, I'm going to try to sort out my opinions here. I don't enjoy doing this, I want you to know. I really really don't.
Why the hell does this have to be so hard?
And how the hell could you think it's really so easy?
Though I've tried to watch/listen to as many aspects of their campaigns as I could take, as an undecided voter I have to tell you that what they are feeding us has very little to do with their own true beliefs and has everything to do with making me scared.
If you vote for him, we're all gonna die.
If you vote for him, we're all gonna die.
If you vote for him, everyone will hate us.
If you vote for him, no one will respect us.
If you vote for him, he'll make sure you won't be healthy.
If you vote for him, there won't be any doctors left to make sure you are.
I don't have time for this. I want the bush/kerry election cliff notes. I want the good old-fashioned promises, the ones that maybe, just maybe, they'll keep. Or at least they're damn good at making me believe they will.
Wait, I'm supposed to be convincing myself.
Ok, pros and cons.
No, see, that's what I'm having trouble with.
Ok, so I'm 27, married, no kids, husband about to start his own business, my health care is too expensive and he has none, but we enjoy the good old fashioned "conservative" fun of fishing/guns/beer - ok, that's not so important, but you have to be able to relate to the prez in some way, right - I've been workin temp jobs for a year and can't get a permanant one to save my life, though I've only been applying to the university because I know they have kick ass benefits for families, I have little concern about the war because I know no one there, but I believe it's right for us to be there and we can't just leave the place to fall apart on its own and come after us later, I don't think it's his fault and I believe his intelligence indeed was bad, I don't think the soldiers should have to be there for such long tours though, I think we could buy a house in the next four years so I should probably give a shit about local property taxes, and since he's starting a business I'd better think about those taxes too, my parents are getting older and my father has lymphoma and what happens if I have to provide some support for them cuz there's no way in hell I can afford to and I'm not putting them in a home and I don't want them to have to sell our house, gas prices suck but I also don't believe that would change if Kerry were there, and we should all be thinking about buying hybrid vehicles anyway because if you think this is going to get better just by a change in administration you're fooling yourself, I think my whole family ingested pesticides while we were growing up which probably has something to do with my father's illness and I think people who've allowed that stuff to happen aren't regulated enough even today, and I also don't think abortion should be illegal but I absolutely don't think you should do it either, not so much from a "you'll go to hell" perspective but more of a "it is NOT the easiest way out, you'll never forget it as long as you live so the least you can do is give the child a chance" but that in no way means that i look down upon you if you have, and holy fucking shit i'm sorry but i'm making myself mad now.
What if I don't vote? After all this thought, is it okay to come to THAT conclusion?
But I can't leave my life in everyone else's hands.
I can't wait till November 3rd.
Maybe working at the polls will make up my mind. Nothing like a little good old fashioned procrastination; I believe in fate and signs and nothing's a coincidence, so I believe something still might happen in the next two weeks that helps me choose.
Sorry, just had to say that.
I'm sorry if this offends you.
So for the sake of giving my internal monologue a voice, because right now its only giving me a headache, I'm going to try to sort out my opinions here. I don't enjoy doing this, I want you to know. I really really don't.
Why the hell does this have to be so hard?
And how the hell could you think it's really so easy?
Though I've tried to watch/listen to as many aspects of their campaigns as I could take, as an undecided voter I have to tell you that what they are feeding us has very little to do with their own true beliefs and has everything to do with making me scared.
If you vote for him, we're all gonna die.
If you vote for him, we're all gonna die.
If you vote for him, everyone will hate us.
If you vote for him, no one will respect us.
If you vote for him, he'll make sure you won't be healthy.
If you vote for him, there won't be any doctors left to make sure you are.
I don't have time for this. I want the bush/kerry election cliff notes. I want the good old-fashioned promises, the ones that maybe, just maybe, they'll keep. Or at least they're damn good at making me believe they will.
Wait, I'm supposed to be convincing myself.
Ok, pros and cons.
No, see, that's what I'm having trouble with.
Ok, so I'm 27, married, no kids, husband about to start his own business, my health care is too expensive and he has none, but we enjoy the good old fashioned "conservative" fun of fishing/guns/beer - ok, that's not so important, but you have to be able to relate to the prez in some way, right - I've been workin temp jobs for a year and can't get a permanant one to save my life, though I've only been applying to the university because I know they have kick ass benefits for families, I have little concern about the war because I know no one there, but I believe it's right for us to be there and we can't just leave the place to fall apart on its own and come after us later, I don't think it's his fault and I believe his intelligence indeed was bad, I don't think the soldiers should have to be there for such long tours though, I think we could buy a house in the next four years so I should probably give a shit about local property taxes, and since he's starting a business I'd better think about those taxes too, my parents are getting older and my father has lymphoma and what happens if I have to provide some support for them cuz there's no way in hell I can afford to and I'm not putting them in a home and I don't want them to have to sell our house, gas prices suck but I also don't believe that would change if Kerry were there, and we should all be thinking about buying hybrid vehicles anyway because if you think this is going to get better just by a change in administration you're fooling yourself, I think my whole family ingested pesticides while we were growing up which probably has something to do with my father's illness and I think people who've allowed that stuff to happen aren't regulated enough even today, and I also don't think abortion should be illegal but I absolutely don't think you should do it either, not so much from a "you'll go to hell" perspective but more of a "it is NOT the easiest way out, you'll never forget it as long as you live so the least you can do is give the child a chance" but that in no way means that i look down upon you if you have, and holy fucking shit i'm sorry but i'm making myself mad now.
What if I don't vote? After all this thought, is it okay to come to THAT conclusion?
But I can't leave my life in everyone else's hands.
I can't wait till November 3rd.
Maybe working at the polls will make up my mind. Nothing like a little good old fashioned procrastination; I believe in fate and signs and nothing's a coincidence, so I believe something still might happen in the next two weeks that helps me choose.
Sorry, just had to say that.
10.19.2004
Waking Up The Dead Since 1976
I live in an old town.
OLD, and according to many tale-tellers, haunted.
I believe in the possibility of all that stuff, though I've only had a couple minor experiences with things of a spine-tingling nature.
I do not see dead people.
But ever since moving to Bellefonte, and having to walk up that dark hill alone in the morning when no one's around, I have that horrible "there's someone walking right behind me" feeling all the time. Maybe it's just the stories getting to me.
Until this morning. I turned out the bathroom light. I KNOW I did. I distinctly remember feeling the condensation on the wall as I did it. I walked into the kitchen, then the living room, and picked up a CD to bring with me on the drive, when I heard a power surge kind of sound come through the TV speakers, as if the TV was being turned off but already was. When I walked out into the hallway, the bathroom light WAS ON.
I know that's not much. Maybe it's silly to be freaked out by it at all. But when it's dark and you're alone you dwell on these things. And tonight, when I get home, I'm parking IN THE FRONT of the house.
So there, you stupid ghosts, you haunt my dreams and now you think you can have my reality, too. Well, phooey on you. It's my house, too.
OLD, and according to many tale-tellers, haunted.
I believe in the possibility of all that stuff, though I've only had a couple minor experiences with things of a spine-tingling nature.
I do not see dead people.
But ever since moving to Bellefonte, and having to walk up that dark hill alone in the morning when no one's around, I have that horrible "there's someone walking right behind me" feeling all the time. Maybe it's just the stories getting to me.
Until this morning. I turned out the bathroom light. I KNOW I did. I distinctly remember feeling the condensation on the wall as I did it. I walked into the kitchen, then the living room, and picked up a CD to bring with me on the drive, when I heard a power surge kind of sound come through the TV speakers, as if the TV was being turned off but already was. When I walked out into the hallway, the bathroom light WAS ON.
I know that's not much. Maybe it's silly to be freaked out by it at all. But when it's dark and you're alone you dwell on these things. And tonight, when I get home, I'm parking IN THE FRONT of the house.
So there, you stupid ghosts, you haunt my dreams and now you think you can have my reality, too. Well, phooey on you. It's my house, too.
10.18.2004
Family
Sleepy Girl
Being seperated from family by a thousand miles is normal now. That's the nature of our lives. It's not impossible to maintain relationships in that fashion, but it can be difficult and requires real dedication on the part of everyone to make it happen.
There were alot of things that made this a very good, memorable weekend. Working hard to prepare for the marriage of two good friends. Everybody coming together. Miles not mattering. Seeing real happiness in people's tiny actions.
When you're apart from people, you rely on other things to help maintain a connection. It used to be letters, sometimes it's phone calls, and now more than anything its email, keeping each other informed of daily goings-on and making the time apart seem normal. But it's moments like last night that make it matter.
We haven't seen our brother and sister-in-law and neice for over a year. We admittedly don't maintain the best relationship over the miles, though we try the same way everybody tries. It's hard to find the time and money to travel, and you don't realize the things you're missing when you're not there. There were so many things that went on this weekend, and just like every other wedding we've had recently (and the ones to come!) we'll all take with us memories and happy stories to tell. But I feel very good about having had some time with them at home last night. You can't ask for much more than that, and that's all you really need. I hope we can make the drive soon, too. There's too much to miss.
10.13.2004
To Our Universal Co-Worker
Dear Public Radio,
I like you. I really do. I understand that you need money. I understand that need because I, too, need money. It is because we have that in common that we get along so well. What I don't understand is why you keep thinking I'll give you some of mine. You give me many things, for sure, but even though you beg and plead and gravel and whine I know there are people out there who feed you. I know I should too, really, but I can't. You're like a stray that keeps coming back to me even though I can't keep you. But I'll listen to you as long as you're here, I promise. If you go away, I'll probably miss you, but I won't miss your guilt trips and cries of wolf. And to those people who tell that the money they are giving you is really from their cat/dog/rabbit/infant child who loves to listen to you since they leave the house and expect that you'll babysit them, please, please, call them back and tell them to find a good home for them instead where they can be cared for by something other than a talking plastic box.
Sincerely,
Your Occasionally Faithful Listener
I like you. I really do. I understand that you need money. I understand that need because I, too, need money. It is because we have that in common that we get along so well. What I don't understand is why you keep thinking I'll give you some of mine. You give me many things, for sure, but even though you beg and plead and gravel and whine I know there are people out there who feed you. I know I should too, really, but I can't. You're like a stray that keeps coming back to me even though I can't keep you. But I'll listen to you as long as you're here, I promise. If you go away, I'll probably miss you, but I won't miss your guilt trips and cries of wolf. And to those people who tell that the money they are giving you is really from their cat/dog/rabbit/infant child who loves to listen to you since they leave the house and expect that you'll babysit them, please, please, call them back and tell them to find a good home for them instead where they can be cared for by something other than a talking plastic box.
Sincerely,
Your Occasionally Faithful Listener
10.12.2004
A Tribute To Jack's Farm
Last night, State College, PA saw the final show for one of their greatest bands, Jack's Farm. In various forms, and even under another name, this collection of talented and driven musicians from all corners of Pennsylvania entertained us and made our Wednesdays, or Mondays, or anyday happy! From the humble beginnings of two brothers from a musical family, this band was the anchor for a community of friends whose connections went beyond their weeknights at a bar...not only did their music bring people together who may very well have never met, but their history is a timeline for many of our lives and our years coming to see Jack's Farm. Everyone has a Jack's Farm story. Everyone has a memorable show. Everyone has that friend they met through the Farm...or a friend they haven't seen in years who they randomly meet again at another gig. It even happened to me last night...being in a bar I hadn't been in for nearly a year it seemed, and I ran into a good old friend I hadn't seen in at least as long, and saw many others who I only see when the Farm's in the place. It won't be real to any of us until that night we're craving to go out and see a good live band, and our options are glaringly few. This town has seen it's share, and I'm sure someday soon some band will come and try to fill the hole their absence has made. They'll try.
They themselves have said it best:
On The Sound:
"We want to be a concert in a bar," Chris Rattie said. "The people that come to our live show want to have fun with our music as opposed to going to a foam party." (CDT)
"Honestly, I wanted to play all the time, but I didn't want to play cheesy covers." John said. "We don't shortcut it and play it our own way." (Collegian)
The band agreed the show is high-energy rock 'n' roll, but bantered over what the best song is to open a show. "They like to throw me a curve ball," Tarr said. "I like to ease it in . ..." Chris said. "There's no reason to do that," John said. "Who wants to see a lounge act? I guess it just depends on my mood." Then, all three went on to laugh about Lovcik's habit to try to bring up the energy right away. "Jimmy could come out with 'Hells Bells,' " Tarr laughed. (Collegian)
On The Crowd:
"When we played, all the hippies came out of the woods and watched us," Chris Rattie said. "We drug the crowd on stage and we thought it was going to collapse." (CDT)
On The Best Way To Treat Your Musical Instruments:
Guitarist/vocalist John Rattie decided to demolish his old Fender when the first version of the band played its last show at The Brewery, 223 E. Beaver Ave. in 1999. "That was a good night," Rattie laughed, saying he didn't know why he did it. "It seemed like the thing to do." (Collegian)
On The Future:
"I'm excited about next year to see where we'll be at," Tarr said. Chris Rattie has more optimistic views. "We took this gig Mondays at the Brewery with something to prove," he said. "We want to make Monday night at the Brewery the place to go." (CDT)
"The ultimate goal is play our own stuff." John said. "Hopefully, next year this time, the cover band thing will allow us to work on originals all day." (Collegian)
The members of Jack's Farm, past and present, are moving on to better things. They always have. Other bands, families, original music, or maybe just a little more normal life without the travel, the late nights, the smoky bars, the loading and unloading, the drunks calling for "Free Bird", the lack of sleep, the missing out on other weekend events, the shitty shows, the bad bar managers, the same songs over and over and over again, truck trouble, equipment trouble, lugging around the Hammond...but these things will fade. I don't doubt that someday, there'll be a reunion. I can't imagine them not doing it. A band with this much nostalgia won't be able to sit back and watch it fade away forever. But we all know that until then, we've all been extraordinarily lucky to have played some small part in their trip, and we'll all be there when the lights come up again.
When they do, we will remember them in the way put best on their guestbook by a good friend:
"Boys and girls, for those of you who have not had the pleasure of a Jack’s Farm show, please take note…Jack’s Farm is the greatest live band in the cosmos. A southern-style boogie experience that will get your ass shakin and your feet stompin. Through 3 years of my college career this band gave me a reason to get up in the morning and keep on living. It was a dark time for a brutha at that point and The Farm repeatedly pulled me from the brink of madness. Always reiterating that the sun will shine tomorrow, despite the seemingly horrible future. To this day I am still very much in fear of the Apocalypse. Armageddon is upon us definitely. But the melodious joy that is spread by this magnificent band seems to hold it at bay, giving us all one more day to breathe. One more day to laugh. One more day to love. One more day to live. Without their sheer force of musical will, I truly believe this world would plummet into the Abyss of evil. They infuse our Sun with energy and as long as they keep churning out their euphoric harmonies and ripping guitar riffs, the Earth will survive another day. This is the power of Jack’s Farm – the Greatest Band in the Universe. For those of you who have seen Jack’s Farm, well…you know exactly what I’m talking about. Shine On brothers. Shine On." (Kudos, Shaslam!)
10.11.2004
The Theme of This Weekend....
...was CABBAGE.
Cabbage
Friday night: Corned beef and cabbage w/ turnips and carrots.
Saturday afternoon: Haluski
Saturday night: Pork Chops and Sauerkraut
Sunday afternoon: Hot dogs cooked in leftover Sauerkraut
Sunday night: Leftover Haluski, and just in case the weekend wasn't musical enough, chili with beans.
I want you to know this was NOT intentional and I only realized this now, as I sit here eating my leftover turnips, carrots...and cabbage.
Hello from my colon.
And in that strange train of thought sort of way, I am now feeling nostalgic for my lost garbage pail kids.
Cabbage
Friday night: Corned beef and cabbage w/ turnips and carrots.
Saturday afternoon: Haluski
Saturday night: Pork Chops and Sauerkraut
Sunday afternoon: Hot dogs cooked in leftover Sauerkraut
Sunday night: Leftover Haluski, and just in case the weekend wasn't musical enough, chili with beans.
I want you to know this was NOT intentional and I only realized this now, as I sit here eating my leftover turnips, carrots...and cabbage.
Hello from my colon.
And in that strange train of thought sort of way, I am now feeling nostalgic for my lost garbage pail kids.
Hibernation On Its Way
I didn't realize that I needed to take the weekend off from writing...just a busy three days I guess, and not much to show for it. I'm not sure that I enjoy my meaningless trudging along in life right now...I'm not a very motivated person when it comes to instituting change in my own life, unless I am absolutely forced to. Of course, every time I've been forced to it's turned out fairly well, so you'd think I would welcome some big upheaval. Really, I would. How 'bout a move to an unknown city? That usually does the trick for me. Or just a long trip to a poor country or maybe an Indian Reservation, just for a little perspective. This isn't running away, mind you. There's plenty of things to be happy about. But I admit that I'm the type to get comfortable and take things for granted, and it's pretty damn hard to dig yourself out of THAT hole. Kick me in the ass, will ya?
So I satiated my need for a purge by cleaning out the fridge and tearing out the dying flowers in our flower bed instead. Actually, that's a pretty satisfying task. They were way overgrown and turning yellow, and I managed to dig up all the iris bulbs as well and trim them up...they really take over after a few seasons of being ignored. I'd like to plant some mums and buy a pumpkin or two...perhaps try to kill off the rest of our poison ivy too. And we have a HUGE maple in our yard that I just know is going to shower us with 15 tons of leaves any day now. Also finished off the weekend with a nice little hike on the northeastern end of Nittany Mountain...I love our valleys around here. Trudge along, trudge along...
Autumn Valley
And one more thing...a cry for help. I need a simple Halloween costume! Our friends are having their Hallowedding this Saturday, costumes and all, and I'm completely unprepared. The wedding also potentially involves camping in a rustic (READ: no heat) cabin, so packing is in order. We may have rain, which would put a damper on that...no pun intended...but it will be sufficiently autumn-y and cozy nonetheless.
Pumpkin carving must begin!
Back to work. Blech.
Really Good Driving Song: Out of Range by Ani Difranco
So I satiated my need for a purge by cleaning out the fridge and tearing out the dying flowers in our flower bed instead. Actually, that's a pretty satisfying task. They were way overgrown and turning yellow, and I managed to dig up all the iris bulbs as well and trim them up...they really take over after a few seasons of being ignored. I'd like to plant some mums and buy a pumpkin or two...perhaps try to kill off the rest of our poison ivy too. And we have a HUGE maple in our yard that I just know is going to shower us with 15 tons of leaves any day now. Also finished off the weekend with a nice little hike on the northeastern end of Nittany Mountain...I love our valleys around here. Trudge along, trudge along...
Autumn Valley
And one more thing...a cry for help. I need a simple Halloween costume! Our friends are having their Hallowedding this Saturday, costumes and all, and I'm completely unprepared. The wedding also potentially involves camping in a rustic (READ: no heat) cabin, so packing is in order. We may have rain, which would put a damper on that...no pun intended...but it will be sufficiently autumn-y and cozy nonetheless.
Pumpkin carving must begin!
Back to work. Blech.
Really Good Driving Song: Out of Range by Ani Difranco
10.07.2004
10.06.2004
Pavlov
The Philadelphia Cheesesteak, reinvented.
Sweet carbohydrates from heaven. Only $100 and complete with foie gras and champagne. Sorry, CA, we're still allowed.
Sweet carbohydrates from heaven. Only $100 and complete with foie gras and champagne. Sorry, CA, we're still allowed.
Coffee and Cigarettes
It's a beautiful autumn night...35 degrees, clear skies, a thousand stars, frosty breath...oh, wait, it's 6:15 a.m.. Nevermind.
But yes, PA October is definitly here. It's dark when I get here, and in 3 1/2 weeks it will be nearly dark when I leave. And for me, this tangible turn of seasons means only one thing:
A SHITLOAD OF COFFEE.
Now, I certainly drink my fair share of caffeine throughout the summer...and I really dislike soda (pop/coke, just to cover all you crazies) but winter is different. I've had two cups already, and I've barely been here an hour. The coffee here also sucks, due mainly to the inch-thick layer of coffee-resin that is glued to the bottom of the pot. These people just don't know what they're doing. If there's one thing I know, it's good freakin coffee and how to treat your machine. When I switch their Folgers with some Dark Sumatra, they won't know what hit 'em.
So beware, readers. This ain't yo'momma's starf**ks.
The typing's moving faster now...do try and keep up.
"It makes me dream faster, like the Indy 500."
But yes, PA October is definitly here. It's dark when I get here, and in 3 1/2 weeks it will be nearly dark when I leave. And for me, this tangible turn of seasons means only one thing:
A SHITLOAD OF COFFEE.
Now, I certainly drink my fair share of caffeine throughout the summer...and I really dislike soda (pop/coke, just to cover all you crazies) but winter is different. I've had two cups already, and I've barely been here an hour. The coffee here also sucks, due mainly to the inch-thick layer of coffee-resin that is glued to the bottom of the pot. These people just don't know what they're doing. If there's one thing I know, it's good freakin coffee and how to treat your machine. When I switch their Folgers with some Dark Sumatra, they won't know what hit 'em.
So beware, readers. This ain't yo'momma's starf**ks.
The typing's moving faster now...do try and keep up.
"It makes me dream faster, like the Indy 500."
10.04.2004
Story Time
I've been thinking that this is as good a venue as any for the one thing that I spend some time on as my own "cause", if you will. There are some of you who know me and read this blog and may not know this story, and some of you I've barely become acquainted with through writing here who know none of it as well. But you'll know as much as I do, now.
I was born in December of 1976 in a small town in Northeastern Pennsylvania, to a woman who was employed at the time as a sewing machine operator somewhere in that town. She had been pregnant by a man who she may or may not have been married to, and he was employed as a truck driver. She had graduated high school; he had little education past junior high. She had been pregnant four times before she had me, and three of those pregnancies had resulted in the successful birth of a child. Throughout this pregnancy she received no prenatal care. She was nearly 30.
Who knows what this woman's history was, or his. Did they have too large a family? Were they unmarried and poor? For any of these reasons, or perhaps none of them, they made the decision to place me for adoption. I can only thank them for that decision, because they could have made another and I would not be here to tell this story.
At this same time, another man and woman lived only twenty minutes away, starting their lives together. They had recently purchased a home and moved out of their last apartment. He had landed a good job as a professor at a local college, and she was a secretary at a law firm. Both were well-educated and well-traveled, and were ready to settle in to family life. For reasons I do not know and can only speculate on, they made the decision to adopt children. A lawyer and family friend was consulted with, and their wait began. It may be well known that families can often wait years for a newborn to adopt, and I do not know how long their search had lasted. When I was born, and the adoption finalized on my birthmother's side, the lawyer took me from the hospital himself and brought me to the house I grew up in. My birthmother had named me Leann; my adopting family chose a different name, the only one I ever knew until I learned "Leann" earlier this year.
What questions this information alone brings! Am I part Irish? I look it, some have said. Did she keep my older siblings? Where are they? Do they know about me? Was she married? Does my birthfather know about me? Does he have other children? Did I know any of them? Did I go to school with them? Are they alive?
But the story doesn't end there. Sixteen months went by. My parents (my PARENTS, my adoptive family, and it's them who love me and I love them, and none of this curiosity changes that -- would it change it for you?) were wanting another child. Their desire had barely been expressed to the same lawyer who handled my adoption. But he was looking out for them, and one night in April of 1978 they received his call. There was an infant boy being placed for adoption, and they could have him if they wanted. They needed to talk about it. They talked. They called him back. They said yes.
I'm glad you've made that decision, the lawyer said. Because I just found out that he is your daughter's biological sibling. Of course, he'd known, but couldn't say, because that would have swayed their decision to do something that they needed to decide without obligation. So I had a brother. A birthbrother, an adoptive brother, a "real" brother.
Now, I have no idea if my birthmother knew. Did the lawyer tell her that he might go to the same family? I assume that she would have contacted the same lawyer when deciding to go through adoption again. Was this her intention? Not to get pregnant, but to keep us together? Was she religious? Does that explain the apparent lack of birth control, at her age?
Now, I have to question the validity of some of this. Not that I doubt the words of my parents, or those of the lawyer who told him it was so. But was she telling the truth? Even if he's a half-brother to me, it's still a rare occurance and I have yet to come across anyone else with the same experience. What was my birthfather's role in all of this? Did she have to do it alone? Did he make her do it? What did her family think?
There are a million places to search. The internet has made that easier, and more difficult. Well-meaning individuals touched by the adoption experience develop a search site, allow you to post information, and then neglect to update the site after a year to two because it's too much work. Email addresses change. All the time. Private investigators want to take your money, but can't always be trusted, and most of the time you can uncover the same information for free if you have enough time. But that's what no adoptee has enough of. It could be a full time job in itself, if you had the energy. But it takes too much of that too, sometimes.
The information I learned about my birthparents came only earlier this year. I finally took the time to call the Orphans' Court in the county of my birth and request my "non-id" (non-identifying information). I could send them a more detailed letter and request all medical information, for the sake of myself and my own children. And if I really want to bring out the big guns, I could request that they make an attempt to contact them, or dig through their ancient and unorganized records, to see if they've agreed to contact should I ever seek it out. "So why haven't you done that?" you may be asking. Like I said, time, money, energy, other obligations...and, what would I do then? Yes, I want to know. But once you reach the point of contact, you're stuck in that place. What will she say? Does she really want to know me anyway? WHAT IF SHE HANGS UP THE PHONE? What if she's dead?
I do not lose perspective at this point. I know, from my own personal experience, what she may be feeling. I myself have placed a child for adoption. But I know where he is and I know he is happy. I know his name and when the time comes, if he chooses, he can know mine. Knowledge is sometimes all you need. I cannot imagine having made the decision I did if I were to have given up that knowledge as well. My birthmother did not have that option. State officials at that time, and even now, believed it to be in the best interests of all involved if information was sealed away. In some cases, perhaps it is. But that is not their decision to make. So people like me are left to exhaust all efforts at a snail's pace. Files in basements, unsympathetic secretaries, wrong phone numbers, changed addresses, deceased participants in the adoption process; the changes of twenty-seven years add up to huge hurdles. But it's not impossible. As I said, it could be that a few demanding letters, a few more online searches, a few more posts here and there that someone who recognizes this story might read...any of this might lead to a name.
I know who I am. My like has taken the course it has without this gap being filled. If I never know, the effect of not knowing will be subtle. I may not even give it much thought until there is no time left to search. But the thought that really keeps this going is that I'm not the only one who doesn't know. My birthmother and birthfather are somewhere. My birthsiblings are somewhere. They have to be wondering about it, too, don't they?
I imagine it's very hard for anyone who is not adopted to understand how this feels. Imagine tracing back your family tree. I have. We can trace my father's side of the family back to before the Civil War. We have letters he wrote from that time. I, like my father, love history. For me, especially, American history is fascinating, and the lines of families through time is some intricate web that we're all a part of. Except that here I am, part of my family's web, but that man from the Civil War didn't look like me. I do indeed feel that he is part of my family, that I am part of his. Yet somewhere else there is another family tree that has me on it as well. I'm very lucky to have that as a part of myself. But I have to find it first. So for now I'll continue to write my own "personal ad":
12/9/76 Female adoptee ISO BM, BF and siblings; born in Hazleton, PA at St. Joseph's Medical Center, 7:33 p.m. by Dr. Koch; may have three older siblings; BM near 30 at time of birth, sewing machine operator, BF a truck driver; may have named child "Leann" before adoption. BM also had son 4/11/78, also placed for adoption.
I was born in December of 1976 in a small town in Northeastern Pennsylvania, to a woman who was employed at the time as a sewing machine operator somewhere in that town. She had been pregnant by a man who she may or may not have been married to, and he was employed as a truck driver. She had graduated high school; he had little education past junior high. She had been pregnant four times before she had me, and three of those pregnancies had resulted in the successful birth of a child. Throughout this pregnancy she received no prenatal care. She was nearly 30.
Who knows what this woman's history was, or his. Did they have too large a family? Were they unmarried and poor? For any of these reasons, or perhaps none of them, they made the decision to place me for adoption. I can only thank them for that decision, because they could have made another and I would not be here to tell this story.
At this same time, another man and woman lived only twenty minutes away, starting their lives together. They had recently purchased a home and moved out of their last apartment. He had landed a good job as a professor at a local college, and she was a secretary at a law firm. Both were well-educated and well-traveled, and were ready to settle in to family life. For reasons I do not know and can only speculate on, they made the decision to adopt children. A lawyer and family friend was consulted with, and their wait began. It may be well known that families can often wait years for a newborn to adopt, and I do not know how long their search had lasted. When I was born, and the adoption finalized on my birthmother's side, the lawyer took me from the hospital himself and brought me to the house I grew up in. My birthmother had named me Leann; my adopting family chose a different name, the only one I ever knew until I learned "Leann" earlier this year.
What questions this information alone brings! Am I part Irish? I look it, some have said. Did she keep my older siblings? Where are they? Do they know about me? Was she married? Does my birthfather know about me? Does he have other children? Did I know any of them? Did I go to school with them? Are they alive?
But the story doesn't end there. Sixteen months went by. My parents (my PARENTS, my adoptive family, and it's them who love me and I love them, and none of this curiosity changes that -- would it change it for you?) were wanting another child. Their desire had barely been expressed to the same lawyer who handled my adoption. But he was looking out for them, and one night in April of 1978 they received his call. There was an infant boy being placed for adoption, and they could have him if they wanted. They needed to talk about it. They talked. They called him back. They said yes.
I'm glad you've made that decision, the lawyer said. Because I just found out that he is your daughter's biological sibling. Of course, he'd known, but couldn't say, because that would have swayed their decision to do something that they needed to decide without obligation. So I had a brother. A birthbrother, an adoptive brother, a "real" brother.
Now, I have no idea if my birthmother knew. Did the lawyer tell her that he might go to the same family? I assume that she would have contacted the same lawyer when deciding to go through adoption again. Was this her intention? Not to get pregnant, but to keep us together? Was she religious? Does that explain the apparent lack of birth control, at her age?
Now, I have to question the validity of some of this. Not that I doubt the words of my parents, or those of the lawyer who told him it was so. But was she telling the truth? Even if he's a half-brother to me, it's still a rare occurance and I have yet to come across anyone else with the same experience. What was my birthfather's role in all of this? Did she have to do it alone? Did he make her do it? What did her family think?
There are a million places to search. The internet has made that easier, and more difficult. Well-meaning individuals touched by the adoption experience develop a search site, allow you to post information, and then neglect to update the site after a year to two because it's too much work. Email addresses change. All the time. Private investigators want to take your money, but can't always be trusted, and most of the time you can uncover the same information for free if you have enough time. But that's what no adoptee has enough of. It could be a full time job in itself, if you had the energy. But it takes too much of that too, sometimes.
The information I learned about my birthparents came only earlier this year. I finally took the time to call the Orphans' Court in the county of my birth and request my "non-id" (non-identifying information). I could send them a more detailed letter and request all medical information, for the sake of myself and my own children. And if I really want to bring out the big guns, I could request that they make an attempt to contact them, or dig through their ancient and unorganized records, to see if they've agreed to contact should I ever seek it out. "So why haven't you done that?" you may be asking. Like I said, time, money, energy, other obligations...and, what would I do then? Yes, I want to know. But once you reach the point of contact, you're stuck in that place. What will she say? Does she really want to know me anyway? WHAT IF SHE HANGS UP THE PHONE? What if she's dead?
I do not lose perspective at this point. I know, from my own personal experience, what she may be feeling. I myself have placed a child for adoption. But I know where he is and I know he is happy. I know his name and when the time comes, if he chooses, he can know mine. Knowledge is sometimes all you need. I cannot imagine having made the decision I did if I were to have given up that knowledge as well. My birthmother did not have that option. State officials at that time, and even now, believed it to be in the best interests of all involved if information was sealed away. In some cases, perhaps it is. But that is not their decision to make. So people like me are left to exhaust all efforts at a snail's pace. Files in basements, unsympathetic secretaries, wrong phone numbers, changed addresses, deceased participants in the adoption process; the changes of twenty-seven years add up to huge hurdles. But it's not impossible. As I said, it could be that a few demanding letters, a few more online searches, a few more posts here and there that someone who recognizes this story might read...any of this might lead to a name.
I know who I am. My like has taken the course it has without this gap being filled. If I never know, the effect of not knowing will be subtle. I may not even give it much thought until there is no time left to search. But the thought that really keeps this going is that I'm not the only one who doesn't know. My birthmother and birthfather are somewhere. My birthsiblings are somewhere. They have to be wondering about it, too, don't they?
I imagine it's very hard for anyone who is not adopted to understand how this feels. Imagine tracing back your family tree. I have. We can trace my father's side of the family back to before the Civil War. We have letters he wrote from that time. I, like my father, love history. For me, especially, American history is fascinating, and the lines of families through time is some intricate web that we're all a part of. Except that here I am, part of my family's web, but that man from the Civil War didn't look like me. I do indeed feel that he is part of my family, that I am part of his. Yet somewhere else there is another family tree that has me on it as well. I'm very lucky to have that as a part of myself. But I have to find it first. So for now I'll continue to write my own "personal ad":
12/9/76 Female adoptee ISO BM, BF and siblings; born in Hazleton, PA at St. Joseph's Medical Center, 7:33 p.m. by Dr. Koch; may have three older siblings; BM near 30 at time of birth, sewing machine operator, BF a truck driver; may have named child "Leann" before adoption. BM also had son 4/11/78, also placed for adoption.
Space Men II
Watch the webcast: (they're 10 minutes from separation! Wild stuff...)
SpaceShipOne
...and I will re-edit this post now for continuity. It's 12:30 EST and they've won...but there are still 23 other teams or so waiting to launch anyway, one more at least this month. It's quite awesome! When the leader of this project was asked what their competitors might be thinking right now, he started out by saying "...those at Boeing, and Lockheed, and the NAySAy people at Houston..." Very funny stuff.
Your kids might be in space.
SpaceShipOne
...and I will re-edit this post now for continuity. It's 12:30 EST and they've won...but there are still 23 other teams or so waiting to launch anyway, one more at least this month. It's quite awesome! When the leader of this project was asked what their competitors might be thinking right now, he started out by saying "...those at Boeing, and Lockheed, and the NAySAy people at Houston..." Very funny stuff.
Your kids might be in space.
Misaligned
This weekend was way too busy and short. Our shoot took longer than expected on Saturday, though not as long on Sunday, but the days flew by and I was ready for bed by 7:00 last night. Needless to say I got nothing done at home, and I hate starting the week with a dirty apartment because these 10 hour days leave no time in the evening for chores. It would have been better had my sleep been made up last night. But after going to bed at 9:00 last night, I was woken up THREE TIMES by my sick dog begging to go outside and do his business. Slept through the alarm, and got to work a half hour late. And is this the end of the story? Oh no. Just to put it all into perspective, this is the ad that was on my desk this morning when I came in, which I am supposed to post on the workers' board:
Good morning Happy Monday. Right.
At least God picked me as the recipient of his humor this morning. :-) I'm laughing, really.
Good morning Happy Monday. Right.
At least God picked me as the recipient of his humor this morning. :-) I'm laughing, really.
10.02.2004
How To Spend October
It's an early, cloudy Saturday, and due to rain. My weekend seems to be going too fast for me already and I'm gonna try to slow it down. I really want to try and make these Fridays off as much of a me-day as possible. I don't think it's wrong to still want to spend some time by yourself even though you're married. Perhaps I need too much of it, I don't know. I've just always been almost rabidly independent and if I don't get time to do things alone I go nuts.
Of course, just to through in a little self-contradiction for the fun of it, I'm also rabidly social at times, and I don't want to miss the party. If I'm forced to sit at home knowing full well that there's good times to be had with the crowd, I feel equally as trapped. I just love being around people, I love the interaction, the drama, the crazy conversations, the friendship, the ability for groups of people as diverse as the people we know to come together and have an awesome time no matter what. And I want to be a part of that. I lost quite a few of my good friends some years ago when I let myself exist in a relationship that was as harmful as it gets, thereby alienating nearly every one of them, and I never really got them back. I don't want that to happen again.
I'm not even awake yet and this is what comes out of my head. Man. It's all about being happy with yourself. It's a delicate balance.
Of course, just to through in a little self-contradiction for the fun of it, I'm also rabidly social at times, and I don't want to miss the party. If I'm forced to sit at home knowing full well that there's good times to be had with the crowd, I feel equally as trapped. I just love being around people, I love the interaction, the drama, the crazy conversations, the friendship, the ability for groups of people as diverse as the people we know to come together and have an awesome time no matter what. And I want to be a part of that. I lost quite a few of my good friends some years ago when I let myself exist in a relationship that was as harmful as it gets, thereby alienating nearly every one of them, and I never really got them back. I don't want that to happen again.
I'm not even awake yet and this is what comes out of my head. Man. It's all about being happy with yourself. It's a delicate balance.
10.01.2004
Making Plans For Nigel
It's been a fun day off with many things worth noting.
- Finally got my voter registration card which I'd lost a few years ago. Also decided, for some reason, to volunteer at the polling place on election day. I think that will be interesting. I have no desire to volunteer for a specific campaign, but the process will be a fun thing to learn. Training is next Tuesday and apparently I'm the only one under 65. I wonder what the turnout is in a town of under 6500?
- Wandered around the Fonte for awhile and found a diner that I didn't know was there. Of course, it's only open from 8-2:30 Monday through Saturday. How freakin small town is THAT?! The coffeewater left much to be desired but as is usually the case with me, the atmosphere was a story all its own. I intend to sit in there alone and have a breakfast one of these days, so I can see what goes on.
- Had a wonderful trip to the mall, and didn't even leave the house. Huh?
- Must finish out the night by sewing together a backdrop for our film shoot tomorrow. A fitness video, hopefully to be shown in the Stadium one day.
"Did you ever see a fitness video? Did you ever see a fitness video...on WEED?"
Oh, I crack myself up.
And, P.S.. The title only reflects that I heard this song today and forgot it existed. Who the hell is Nigel anyway??
- Finally got my voter registration card which I'd lost a few years ago. Also decided, for some reason, to volunteer at the polling place on election day. I think that will be interesting. I have no desire to volunteer for a specific campaign, but the process will be a fun thing to learn. Training is next Tuesday and apparently I'm the only one under 65. I wonder what the turnout is in a town of under 6500?
- Wandered around the Fonte for awhile and found a diner that I didn't know was there. Of course, it's only open from 8-2:30 Monday through Saturday. How freakin small town is THAT?! The coffeewater left much to be desired but as is usually the case with me, the atmosphere was a story all its own. I intend to sit in there alone and have a breakfast one of these days, so I can see what goes on.
- Had a wonderful trip to the mall, and didn't even leave the house. Huh?
- Must finish out the night by sewing together a backdrop for our film shoot tomorrow. A fitness video, hopefully to be shown in the Stadium one day.
"Did you ever see a fitness video? Did you ever see a fitness video...on WEED?"
Oh, I crack myself up.
And, P.S.. The title only reflects that I heard this song today and forgot it existed. Who the hell is Nigel anyway??
Hell Yeah
-Twin Peaks-
Your Twin Peaks! Not only are you a movie but you
were an awesome t.v. series. You are laid back
and enjoy a good mystery.
What David Lynch movie are you?
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