My Lonely City

In response to my overwhelming bitchiness from yesterday, I feel like focusing on something nicer. Did you know that Mr. Rogers was a vegetarian? And a Christian? And an awesome guy? I didn’t know. I used to think he was awesome, when I was little, then I thought he was very uncool, and possibly perverted. And now … now I want to be like him. In reading this article, I’ve found my new role model.

He Was Genuinely Curious about Others Mister Rogers was known as one of the toughest interviews because he’d often befriend reporters, asking them tons of questions, taking pictures of them, compiling an album for them at the end of their time together, and calling them after to check in on them and hear about their families. He wasn’t concerned with himself, and genuinely loved hearing the life stories of others. Amazingly, it wasn’t just with reporters. Once, on a fancy trip up to a PBS exec’s house, he heard the limo driver was going to wait outside for 2 hours, so he insisted the driver come in and join them (which flustered the host). On the way back, Rogers sat up front, and when he learned that they were passing the driver’s home on the way, he asked if they could stop in to meet his family. According to the driver, it was one of the best nights of his life—the house supposedly lit up when Rogers arrived, and he played jazz piano and bantered with them late into the night. Further, like with the reporters, Rogers sent him notes and kept in touch with the driver for the rest of his life.

This makes me feel like there’s hope for humanity after all. :o) Maybe not much hope – let’s not get carried away – but a bit. Check out the video of him testifying to a Senate committee about television funding. Cool stuff.

Today was very hard. For a few reasons. A cardinal flew full-tilt into the window at my grandmother’s house where we were visiting, breaking its neck. I watched it die, its wings quivering, its body convulsing and then, within a moment, growing still. My young cousins came over to gawk at it, looking through the glass like a television. I asked my grandma if she had a shovel to bury it with, but she said to throw it over the fence.

I did; it was her house. It fell awkwardly, hitting branches and landing with almost no sound. I hope it finds rest.

After leaving there – my family’s Thanksgiving – we went to my husband’s family’s. And the cousins were all there, with their endearing, hyperactive, generally delightful children running amok.

I miss my baby so much. We would have been parents by now. Tomorrow we have a final Thanksgiving meal, with another cousin (I seem to collect them the way other people collect teapots or ceramic roosters) who is pregnant. I am happy for her and her husband, but I don’t want to hear about her symptoms, or name ideas, or … anything, really. I just don’t want to hear it.

One out of Four Homeless are Veterans. One in four.

“The only training I have is infantry training and there’s not really a need for that in the civilian world.” – Jason Kelley.

We have a problem, folks. It’s not a new problem, but it’s definitely a problem. And I don’t think the answer is “a program that helps bridge the gap between income and rent.”

Do you ever just feel fat? I mean, you don’t feel anything but fat, and it drives you so insane that you just have to eat something?

No?

Oh, well. I guess it’s just me.

Actually, I’m not fat. I’m not even overweight. I’m within the recommended BMI range, and, in fact, I’m exactly at the “ideal weight” number for my height & frame size. But sometimes – no, often – this information is not very comforting.

Yes, I ate too much today – too much for me, anyway. And I had a snow cone. Gah. (Brandy and Cappuccino, though; good combination.) And I had a margarita tonight as well – a margarita that was probably 90% alcohol, or at least felt that way sliding its savagely numbing way down my throat.

So anyway, the point here is that I’m trying – I’ve got a binder w/ goals and everything, nerd that I am – to lose weight, even though I don’t really need to. Because I would look better. To myself. And I’m trying to balance my desire to be skinny, thin, svelte, or what-have-you, with my suspicion that 1) I’m succumbing to the misogynistic propaganda of underfed, overworked, waif-like beauty perpetuated by our out-of-their-gourd society, and 2) I’m allowing myself to be sidetracked and diverted. From what, I’m not sure. Maybe from everything, but if that was the case, surely I’d be a little less spastic; after all, focusing on one thing at a time must be a bit of a relief no matter how obsessively you pursue it.

But the fact remains, this is something I want to do. Except I also want to have a child. These things don’t really go together.

I’m kind of a basket case right now. For no real reason, but then, what kind of reason would be good enough for turning one into a basket case?

What the hell is a basket case, anyway? I mean, I understand the concept – basket-weaving in mental health institutions, etc., but why the appeal of the term? Why its longevity?

And does it help?

My neighborhood is a zero-lot-line addition. This means that each home is built with one exterior wall on the lot line of the neighbor’s property, and that wall makes up part of that neighbor’s backyard fence. Obviously there are no windows in that wall. The other windows in the houses face either forward toward the street, backward into one’s own yard (with its comes-standard privacy fence) or occasionally sideways onto one’s front yard. Everyone keeps their windows covered; plantation or imitation-plantation (tongue-twisters of the world, unite!) blinds are the most popular.

We’re all trapped in these cages, living in solitary confinement. We’re cordoned off by windowless walls and wooden fences, rattling against our loneliness like pebbles in an empty jar.

“Successful change requires a combination of technocratic knowledge, bold political leadership, and broad social participation.” – Jeffrey Sachs, in The End of Poverty: Economic Possibilities for Our Time.

I’m exhausted. I just spent an extremely intense week as a camp counselor at a children’s camp for kids who have been abused or neglected. Oh. My. God. I may be able to sift my thoughts into something coherent over the next few days or weeks, but there’s no chance tonight. So I’m going to talk about something else (or rather, something only loosely connected).

I spend a lot of energy and focus on things that don’t matter. Or rather, that don’t warrant the time that I spend on them. I need to focus on the things that _do_ matter: loving God with all my heart, my soul, my mind, and my strength; and loving others as I love myself. (And perhaps I need to work on taking care of, and loving, myself, too.)

I’m rapidly falling asleep. But I’m going to SLEEP IN tomorrow, so it’s okay. ^_^

Quote of the day:

“It may sound like something rather technical and anoraky but is fundamentally about what kind of relationship people have with each other, in terms of the rights and responsibilities they have towards each other.”

Um, what? No, really, what? Anoraky?

Interesting article, though; I’m back on a follow-the-news kick, at least for tonight.

I’m not sure, though, that giving sixteen-year-olds the right to vote is that great of an idea, at least if British sixteen-year-olds are anything like American ones.

On to America, here’s another interesting – and more follow-able – quote:

“On Capitol Hill, it is a sign of just how important religion is to US politics that only one member of Congress has ever admitted to being an atheist - and that admission came just a few months ago.”

I had no idea. About the only one person “admitt[ing]” to being an atheist – like admitting to being an alcoholic or something*. Are we afraid that the devil will possess non-religious legislators (or justices, or what-have-you) and suddenly start eating our children, or what?

Speaking of vampires, Dennis Kucinich has a MySpace page. Who knew? And it’s readable – super-primary-colors-y, but readable. I’ve gotta give him points for that, though perhaps not enough to counteract the deficit created by having a MySpace page in the first place.

(I’m such a snob. But I’m okay with that.)

*Being an atheist is not a disease; I’m being ironic, you know?

Wait, wait, wait … isn’t the president’s job to enforce the laws that Congress makes (and nix crap laws that Congress passes)? I mean, it’s been a while since my gov’t classes, but … isn’t that a big part of the job description?

Why, then, do presidential candidates talk about policies they plan to create, “legislation” they want to “pass”, etc.? Shouldn’t they be talking about their ideas and qualifications for appointing great people to governmental offices, “ensuring that the laws are faithfully executed” (article II, sec. 3)?

(And, for the record, we ought to amend this article to say “she or he”. But you knew I was going to say that.)

I mean, here’s what the constitution says about the president, except for the part about the electoral college because it was boring:

Article II Section 1. The executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his office during the term of four years, and, together with the Vice President, chosen for the same term, be elected, as follows:
[[boring and complicated way of saying that the President will be elected by hairsprayed newscasters who repeat themselves. “It looks like he’s won Texas, Jim!” “Yes, Frank, it certainly looks like Candidate Gary has won Texas, Frank.”)]]

No person except a natural born citizen, or a citizen of the United States, at the time of the adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the office of President; neither shall any person be eligible to that office who shall not have attained to the age of thirty five years, and been fourteen Years a resident within the United States. [If you’re not old enough to remember disco, or you weren’t born here or to Americans, don’t apply.]

In case of the removal of the President from office, or of his death, resignation, or inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the Vice President, and the Congress may by law provide for the case of removal, death, resignation or inability, both of the President and Vice President, declaring what officer shall then act as President, and such officer shall act accordingly, until the disability be removed, or a President shall be elected. [The VP takes over if the Prez can’t get her/his stuff together for some silly reason like being dead or incapacitated. Unless you count being an incompetent jerk as a disability, which we apparently don’t. This was later amended to detail the complicated and action-film-producing tangle of succession we know and love.]

The President shall, at stated times, receive for his services, a compensation, which shall neither be increased nor diminished during the period for which he shall have been elected, and he shall not receive within that period any other emolument from the United States, or any of them. [But she/he gets money. But not too much. Along with out-of-place comas.]

Before he enter on the execution of his office, he shall take the following oath or affirmation:–“I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” [And she/he promises to do the job.]

Section 2. The President shall be commander in chief of the Army and Navy of the United States, and of the militia of the several states, when called into the actual service of the United States; he may require the opinion, in writing, of the principal officer in each of the executive departments, upon any subject relating to the duties of their respective offices, and he shall have power to grant reprieves and pardons for offenses against the United States, except in cases of impeachment. [She/he is in charge of the people with guns – hey! states are supposed to have militias! wow! – but should get his information from the people who know what they’re talking about. And he can pardon people, except for people who have been impeached. (I think.) Notice that her/his “action step” regarding the military is asking for the opinions of people who know what they’re doing.]

He shall have power, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, to make treaties, provided two thirds of the Senators present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, shall appoint ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls, judges of the Supreme Court, and all other officers of the United States, whose appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by law: but the Congress may by law vest the appointment of such inferior officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads of departments. [Prez makes treaties and puts people in office. Working with the Senate to do so. Did you get that, “with”? Like together or something?]

The President shall have power to fill up all vacancies that may happen during the recess of the Senate, by granting commissions which shall expire at the end of their next session. [And put more people in office if somebody else gets dead or incapacitated.]

Section 3. He shall from time to time give to the Congress information of the state of the union, and recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient; he may, on extraordinary occasions, convene both Houses, or either of them, and in case of disagreement between them, with respect to the time of adjournment, he may adjourn them to such time as he shall think proper; he shall receive ambassadors and other public ministers; he shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed, and shall commission all the officers of the United States. [Ooh, “recommend to [Congress’s] consideration” – that sounds weird, eh? Like they were communicating or something. And yep, it says so right there: she/he’ll see to getting the laws obeyed.]

Section 4. The President, Vice President and all civil officers of the United States, shall be removed from office on impeachment for, and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors. [And if they screw up, they’ll get kicked out.]

Sounds kinda administrative-y, actually. Take the Congress’s ideas and make them happen; occasionally direct their attention to issues they haven’t addressed. And be a people person, making lots of appointments and receiving foreign ambassadors and what-not. And oversee the various military bodies of the country. Hm. Learn something every day.

So my Best Friend (at least since 8th grade, which seems like forever ago, so the term actually almost applies, scary as that is) has had a spot of trouble with snoopy out-laws lately. No need to go into the details (nor would I be at liberty to do so even if there was a need), but I got to thinking. I might as well be considerate and save any similar nosies some trouble, if they take a notion to snoop in my direction.

I drink, but I don’t smoke. I curse like a sailor, depending on the company. I don’t do any drugs that have not been specifically prescribed to me by a doctor, and I never have. Except for occasional speeding and an illegal u-turn or two, I have never broken the law. Unless you count jaywalking. I didn’t drink alcohol until I was twenty-one, even when I was in countries (Mexico and New Zealand) whose drinking-age laws would have permitted me to do so. The worst thing I have ever done was made out with a boy who was engaged – engaged! to someone else! what was I thinking?! – on the way back from my senior trip.

I didn’t have sex until after I got married. (Yes, really.) I have never cheated on my husband. I love him very much, and love sharing my life with him. Most of the time it’s easy to love him; sometimes I love him because I promised him I would. Marriage is harder than I thought it would be, but it’s also more rewarding.

I sometimes hate spending time with my family – immediate-ish and extended – because I feel we have very little in common. I spend time with them anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.

I love God but Christians piss me off. I’m a vegan, feminist social critic with dozens of radical, half-formed ideas and almost no-one to bounce them off of. I complain a lot about being lonely and having no-one to talk to, but I don’t seek out any new relationships because I’m a lazy fraidy-cat a lot of the time.

I volunteer. I tithe. I pray. I read the Bible semi-regularly, though not as often as I ought to. I try to understand how God wants me to apply what I read to the way I behave. What I keep coming back to is this: Treat others the way you want to be treated.

I tip. I sing loudly in the car by myself. I sometimes preach sermons to people who are not, physically, present with me. I pick up paper towels that bastards in public restrooms throw on the floor. (Sometimes.) I wear underwear when trying on swimming suits.

I have a concealed-carry permit (somewhere). I enjoy shooting bottles and targets, and I’m pretty good at it. I doubt I could shoot a person, though, because I don’t want to be shot. Even in self-defense.

Sometimes I carry insects and spiders outside when they get in; sometimes I kill them. I don’t feel guilty. My cats are both declawed – though I wouldn’t make that decision again.

I lost my first child this year – a missed miscarriage six weeks after conception, discovered around four weeks later. It tore my world apart. I’m getting used to the pieces floating around, and I’m not trying to fit them together yet.

I think too much. But I’m okay with it.

Satisfied?

I’m going to be a counselor at a summer camp for children in my county who have been abused or neglected.

Oh my gosh.

Oh my gosh! I’m so excited and nervous and scared and elated … and surely other things, too. :o) My mother-in-law was the music director last year, when a body from her then-church held the camp under the organization and leadership of a national – indeed, international – organization. She returned full of stories and emotions; I was fascinated and moved. From what I heard her say, and what I heard from the leadership in their informational meeting, the people and the organization are doing a great thing, and doing it well. What impresses me most at this time is their careful rejection of the idea of “saving” or rescuing the children, and the deliberately narrow focus of creating good memories for the kids who attend.

I think what resonates with me about this strategy is that it is a positive, rather than negative, approach to the problem of child abuse. I mean, I think it’s easier to focus on, and perhaps drown in, the overwhelming statistics, the grief and fury, the images and stories of people who rape, beat, torture, and neglect the children in their care – easier than it is to do what I can with what I have.

I can’t reach everyone who is suffering, child or adult. Even if I could, I couldn’t end all the suffering in the world; I’m not wise or resourceful enough for that. But I can listen, and learn, and work. I can go out of my way to make things better, for a little while and for a few people and animals.

Creating a society in which all children are safe from harm, respected as people, and emotionally & intellectually equipped to live lives of fulfillment and meaning is a long-term project. Not impossible – nothing is impossible – but I doubt I will live in such a society this side of heaven. But here, now, I will do what I can with what I have.

I’m both excited and apprehensive, right now; I’m excited because giving and serving are exciting to me. That’s who I am. I get to serve children who matter to God. I’m apprehensive because I’ve never done this before. I don’t have any younger (or older) siblings; I haven’t spent a lot of time around children. I’m eager and willing to learn how to be an effective counselor, but I don’t know what to do yet. And if you know me, you know that I like … knowing. But, God’s grace is sufficient for me, and his power is made perfect in weakness, eh?

Have you read this?

It saddens me. Not because of the author’s misinformed tirade, but more because … I miss Pi. I know there’s not an answer to this, but why was their baby born only to be murdered by starvation and neglect, but my baby died before he was even born?

I wouldn’t have starved him to death; he would be loved and protected, cherished and adored. I wouldn’t have been a bad mama; Jared would have been a wonderful dad. We would have done everything we could to meet his needs and give him a safe, welcoming home here.

We will have other children, yes.

But I still miss this one.

I realized that I never explained why the “It’s Greek to you…” marquis made me so angry: It so perfectly illustrates the snobbery, elitism, and guilty, defensive arrogance rampant in the Christian community. “We know you don’t get why we believe in Jesus. We don’t want you to, because having a secret makes us feel better about the way we’re failing to serve him.” Grow up, people.

I just wanted to say that I disagree with the new Pope; I think the church did force itself on the existing cultures of Latin America. And I’m not sure that the people in those cultures were “silently longing” to become Christians.

Just a thought. Perhaps we would be better evangelists if we could admit previous evangelical mistakes.

… but … still working out the details …

(Yes, Annette; I would like to talk this weekend.)

Matthew 5:4
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Revelation 21:3
I heard a loud voice shout from the throne:
God’s home is now with his people. He will live with them, and they will be his own. Yes, God will make his home among his people. He will wipe all tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death, suffering, crying, or pain. These things of the past are gone forever.

Then the one sitting on the throne said:
I am making everything new. Write down what I have said. My words are true and can be trusted.

Can anyone really comfort me? If I have to say, “Yeah, I’m … okay,” one more time. I mean, what am I supposed to say? I feel like hell, but thanks for asking. I just lost my baby, how do you think I am? The baby I was just getting used to the thought of having. The baby I thanked God for. The baby I wanted. I don’t know how to comfort Jared with his pain – or even acknowledge the pain of my or Jared’s parents, which I’m sure they’re feeling as well – because I don’t know where to start with mine. I don’t know what to do. In some ways I don’t want to feel better yet.

I’m scheduled for a D&C (d-something-with-lots-of-syllables, c-something-with-lots-of-syllables, where they open your cervix and – literally – scrape out the inside of your uterus, like a menstrual period á la Jack the Ripper). Tomorrow. At eleven. I asked yesterday, when the nurse called to tell me about the test results, if it would hurt. Her response was “It’s a surgery.” I guess that’s a yes.

I think a lot of the people around me have an idea that when people “hurt too much” it’s bad for their faith. So they try to make those who mourn … feel better. Be encouraging, like. Rather than just “mourn[ing] with those who mourn” without trying to fix anything (Romans 12:15). I would like to be mourned with, not encouraged, right now. (But how do you mourn?)