In approximately three hours and twenty five minutes this year will be history. So many things happened it's hard for me to believe it was merely 365 days. 2005 feels like a lifetime. My health, my home, everything took a turn...At lunch, Mom asked me what my big plans were for 2006. Hmmm. I'm not sure I have any. Not that I'm a directionless slacker or anything. But what exactly do I need to plan for? I need to get a job, a new place to live, meet some new people. I'll keep buying clothes, get furniture, applicances. But that's a given. That's not a plan. I learned this year that I have everything I need and all the other stuff is just extra. Would I like to embark on some exciting career? Sure that would be great. But I have finally severed the connection between what I do and who I am. If I don't end up with an exciting career, that's just fine. I'll enjoy getting new stuff, but I'm not all wrapped in that either.
Now that I know that things could get worse, I can't help but believe that they will get better. It's all Newtonian. Now there will be an equal and opposite reaction. I guess my plan is just to take it as it comes. Just as I have been. I don't need to search out any more external validation. Not that it was working anyway. If I have peace, I have all I need.
So farewell 2005. I would say good riddance, but I won't. I have to think that, if only in retrospect, this year has been a turning point. This year has been a literal force moving me forward and onward. So for that alone, it has been a good thing and perhaps as it should be. When I'm an old lady doddering off in some rocking chair, I'll fil in the blanks. But for now, I'm going to stop navigating and just enjoy a little of the scenery for change. I don't need a plan, I have all I need for this journey...
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
Looking for Nairobi...
Turns out I do have a picture of my kitty. My cats were taken from our house on 9/29/05. If this cat looks familiar let me know. She is 10yrs old and between 15-17 lbs. She was wearing a black velvet rhinestone collar with a small gold tag. I miss her. She was my friend...
Thursday, December 22, 2005
More musings..
So where did I leave off? Oh yeah, I was trying to get to the core of what may be keeping me from true enlightenment. Before I get to that I just want to say that what I said about the guys I've been involved with being unacceptable or unavailable was meant in relation to me. Most of them were perfectly nice guys...just not right for me. There's only one who I'd like to see under a bus, and I'm even at peace in my mind about him. I'll never see him again. Unless I find myself stranded on some unmarked road in Mississippi. Even then I'd call law enforcement or even the Klan before I thought about giving him a ring. No drunk dialing him. Ever. But even in that situation, in retrospect, I can appreciate how I contributed to that disaster. But there was no way I could have seen it coming or unfortunately prevented it.
But this is no relationship post-mortem. I just didn't want to give the impression that I'm morphing into a man-hater. It would be bad timing since I stopped knitting and don't have my kitties anymore. No, I am looking back so that I can understand where I am and if necessary make adjustments going forward. So back to that...
The common thread in the 'things I'm ashamed of' seems, in my preliminary assessment, that they are things that were outside of my control, but caused me great pain. And while I can understand intellectually that the things were outside of my control, I still cannot figure out why I am ashamed. As opposed to mistakes I've made, which I have no shame about because I made the best decision I could with the information I had at the time. I don't do regret...My shame seems tied to misplaced trust and fear of judgement. So the aforementioned Man From Enterprise, for example, I have no problems about the circumstance of our relationship and some truly scandalous things I did during the course of the dalliance. what I have shame about is something that he did in the course of the relationship that I had absolutely no control over, that I will not specify here, that I did all I could have to prevent. It was something HE did, but I feel ashamed. That's illogically. Relatedly, the other issue I'm wondering if I need to dig out of the crates is something(s) that happened that I did not do, but at most participated in before I had agency or capability...Sorry to be obtuse...So if there is no way I would hold another person responsible for these things, why am I ashamed of them in relation to myself. Why don't I volunteer them in relevant conversations? For example, you know I experienced something similar to that...Never happens. Mums the word. Except for a few bonding sessions with friends I've known forever. In bits and pieces. If I died tomorrow, it would take a team of forensic investigators to put together my biography and the most reliable sources would not be my parents or family members. Even my closest friends and consorts would realize there were huge gaps, questions, inconsistencies, etc. in their versions. And they might come together in a wholly unexpected way.
Maybe that's OK, maybe it's not... Maybe it's relevant to me moving forward, maybe not. Going back to the daddy thing and even a mommy thing. Should I, as an adult about to change demographic brackets (gasp), spill the beans to my parents about things I experienced? Knowing it would drastic change, even ruin their perception of who I've been and become? I rationalized...no need to dig up the past, to hurt them, to disrupt the present with all that. But is that just self-manufactured bs?
More important, how has keeping these secrets and shame affected me? Changed how I see myself and how I interact with others. So far, the few times I have revealed things to friends, I've been floored by how understanding they are and how much overlap there is in our experiences. It's made me challenge one of my youthful handicaps--now returned in different form--self-isolation, detachment. I would avoid connections because I was afraid of rejection, judgement. And back to my motley relationship crew, I hid myself from every man I've been involved with...Sometimes 90%, sometimes 10%, but always enough so that after the pieces fell, I could get up, dust myself off and say "aww, that didn't hurt so much." I wasn't really all in anyway. And that's not good for a woman, ahem, of my age. So there's the realtionship problem there. I can't connect with someone else when I have all this crap I'm keeping cordoned off from view. even if I'm good at it. When I like them, I get neurotic from trying to hide it and when they are into me, I resent that don't notice that I'm withholding. A conundrum!
So that made my head hurt.
On a lighter front, I finally read enough of the blogger instructions to figure out how to add pictures to my posts! It's on. Between my camcorder and my cellphone, no one will be safe! You've been warned...
I just added-- I think-- a picture of our uninhabitable adobe in New Orleans...
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
The root of my problems...
It's going to take a long while for me to finish this one. I'm not going to try and do it all at one sitting.
Anyway after my drunken dialing, J and I ended up having this long conversation about relationships. That is, after I stopped whining and crying about what a loser I was being. I started talking about the role of fathers in all this, mothers too. But at the heart of it was me wondering if we can repair old wounds without going to the source. We all have painful childhood memories, some deeper wounds than others. It seems unfair and unreasonable to me that whenever I make some measure of progress, when I stumble I realize there's mor ework to be done. Are my edges ragged because I try to fix my shit myself? Maybe my problem is that I don't go to the source. I was saying to J that while I have been saying I don't want to pick at old wounds with my parents, maybe the truth is just that I am deeply ashamed. Ashamed of the topics, ashamed that I need help, just plain ashamed. And perhaps the shame is keeping me from growing into my own light and possibility. That instead of finding resolution with tropes from the past, we find ourselves replaying them over and over with new players because we simply haven't gone to the source. Or at the very least our parents are two people who are biologically driven to support and protect us. Yet we stop--I stopped--asking for their perspective their aid. Which takes me back to fathers, why don't ask my dad for relationship advice? He's undeniably a man. And he probably could have talked me out of the drink and dial. Which, was mostly jokey and in a perverse way, highly revelatory! But maybe daddy could enlighten me about why I seem to oscillate between the unacceptable and the unavailable. Really. No offense guys. Really. None at all. But I have undertaken dalliances with people who for either of two reasons were at the outset slated for sayonara. Why? That is what I need to figure out. Why do I waste my time this way?
I am also coming to believe that there is a significant tie-in with my professional choices as well. At the very least I am at the helm of all these decisions. Perhaps I am utilizing the same funky logic box. What are the core beliefs, fears, expectations that are driving my decision process?
I read and re-read Nelson Mandela's inauguration speech where he opines that our greatest fear is that we are brilliant.
Could it be that I am afraid of heights?
Metaphorically and literally. I wonder if my fear, no hysteric aversion, to swimming is really some inability to let go, relax and relinquish control to something larger than myself. That at my core, I feel insecure. In the strictest sense of the word. Untethered to anything solid or true.
When babies learn to crawl they venture out further and further from their parents, always returning to their central position until they are brave enough to go out sight with firm belief that their parents are where they remembered, wholly unnecessary.
If I were that infant, I would not be able to crawl away. Or at least my circles are ineffectively small. And when I return, I'm not learning the lesson that things are OK so that I can go further out.
And maybe it's because I don't ask my parents. I always hear about people who have to make peace with a distant parent or a dead one. I don't, thankfully, have that problem. I can talk to either of my parents whenever. Yet I don't. In fact, I have erected many walls between myself and them. Topics I do not broach, emotions I don't show, characteristics I don't display...
Anyway after my drunken dialing, J and I ended up having this long conversation about relationships. That is, after I stopped whining and crying about what a loser I was being. I started talking about the role of fathers in all this, mothers too. But at the heart of it was me wondering if we can repair old wounds without going to the source. We all have painful childhood memories, some deeper wounds than others. It seems unfair and unreasonable to me that whenever I make some measure of progress, when I stumble I realize there's mor ework to be done. Are my edges ragged because I try to fix my shit myself? Maybe my problem is that I don't go to the source. I was saying to J that while I have been saying I don't want to pick at old wounds with my parents, maybe the truth is just that I am deeply ashamed. Ashamed of the topics, ashamed that I need help, just plain ashamed. And perhaps the shame is keeping me from growing into my own light and possibility. That instead of finding resolution with tropes from the past, we find ourselves replaying them over and over with new players because we simply haven't gone to the source. Or at the very least our parents are two people who are biologically driven to support and protect us. Yet we stop--I stopped--asking for their perspective their aid. Which takes me back to fathers, why don't ask my dad for relationship advice? He's undeniably a man. And he probably could have talked me out of the drink and dial. Which, was mostly jokey and in a perverse way, highly revelatory! But maybe daddy could enlighten me about why I seem to oscillate between the unacceptable and the unavailable. Really. No offense guys. Really. None at all. But I have undertaken dalliances with people who for either of two reasons were at the outset slated for sayonara. Why? That is what I need to figure out. Why do I waste my time this way?
I am also coming to believe that there is a significant tie-in with my professional choices as well. At the very least I am at the helm of all these decisions. Perhaps I am utilizing the same funky logic box. What are the core beliefs, fears, expectations that are driving my decision process?
I read and re-read Nelson Mandela's inauguration speech where he opines that our greatest fear is that we are brilliant.
Could it be that I am afraid of heights?
Metaphorically and literally. I wonder if my fear, no hysteric aversion, to swimming is really some inability to let go, relax and relinquish control to something larger than myself. That at my core, I feel insecure. In the strictest sense of the word. Untethered to anything solid or true.
When babies learn to crawl they venture out further and further from their parents, always returning to their central position until they are brave enough to go out sight with firm belief that their parents are where they remembered, wholly unnecessary.
If I were that infant, I would not be able to crawl away. Or at least my circles are ineffectively small. And when I return, I'm not learning the lesson that things are OK so that I can go further out.
And maybe it's because I don't ask my parents. I always hear about people who have to make peace with a distant parent or a dead one. I don't, thankfully, have that problem. I can talk to either of my parents whenever. Yet I don't. In fact, I have erected many walls between myself and them. Topics I do not broach, emotions I don't show, characteristics I don't display...
Winter Solstice
Today, light begins increasing. We've been in Virginia three months. I've made a few adjustments. Rather than putting find a job as my first priority, I realized I needed to put taking care of myself at the top of the list. I felt so paralyzed about going back to the grind maybe because I realized that it won't work to keep skipping the step of taking caring care of my heart and health first. I've tried jumping back into the fray and hoping things will fall into place. It only works for a minute. Eventually, as I like to say, wherever you go, there you are. Which is not to say you can go lollygagging through life, but sometimes the timetables you set have no bearing upon how long it will take to make your journey. It's also not to say that you be knocked down into a fetal position. Previous down periods I've avoided going in search of myself. I felt like I needed to remain motionless, I felt unworthy of the joy of self discovery. Maybe this time I can change that.
Everything has literally been wiped clean, except mercifully for the ability for me to regroup and move on. I have, as the saying goes, all that I need for this journey. All that needs to be determined is where I will go.
I've been thinking a lot about women who, when they turn forty or fifty, feel liberated and unleashed to live as themselves. Maybe I can have that revelation early. If I am willing to really take care of me first, I can be who I really am and want to be all the time.
I've been keeping my eyes and ears open, mostly because from where I am now there is little I can do but observe, but I am starting to notice and hopefully learn. I am noticing my own body, how it changes in the course of a day. How I give lip service to treating it better with uneven results. Probably due to stress, my skin has been having a minor freak-out. The acne on my face has been replaced with dry, flaky patches and the rash on my arm that caused so much concern at the beginning of the summer came back. I've succumbed to a few cravings and I can watch my stomach expand after I have some dairy 'treat.' Some other ingredient also causes midsection to swell but I haven't figured out what it is. By some happenstance I caught a PBS special featuring that muscle-bound Dr. Perricone--he who touts skin and anti-ageing diets on Oprah and in bookstores. Anyhow, I stopped and listened to what he had to say about anti-oxidants and anti-inflammatory supplements. I looked through my natural medicine books and remembered that I had embarked on a plan to revise my diet this summer. I n fact, I was sneaking up on a fast--but never did it. Anyhow, over the past few days, I've also noticed magazine articles and newspaaper features about some of the same supplements. Last night I was in CVS and they were having one of those buy-one-get-one free sales that they often have, but I'm never prepared for, on supplements. So I got a huge bottle of fish oil supplements (Omega3 and6) and (though the research is mixed) evening primrose oil, and chromium piccolinate. The chromium piccolinate was actually something an adolescent doctor recommended - and I blew off-- to moderate my then raging hypoglycemia. This time I am hoping it will help not only with glucose regulation but also with my tentative effort to lose twenty pounds or so. The fish and evening primrose oils should help with a variety of complaints. They are said to help with PMS (which I have with a vengeance. I should be locked in a small room before my period. It's when I do 'crazy' things like I did last week. My temper flares, life seems irredeemibly bleak, and I sob like a faucet) so that alone would make it worth trying. It also helps with metabolic regulation and acts as an anti-inflammatory. The fish oil, in fact, because of its anti-inflammatory effects is said to be helpful with lupus, arthritis and similar conditions. Perricone also recommended other supplements, but I need to review the tape. I think Glucosamine condroitin (sp) and Coenzyme Q 10.
I'm not sure of the efficacy of these things. But they are supposed to improve my skin, elevate my mood, help to even my metabolism. I'll certainly report back. But if my head is clear and my body is running smoothly, perhaps I can stem some of the anxiety I've been feeling and come up with some plan that I would actually be able to act on. I'm attempting to take care of myself in preparation for getting back to work rather than vice versa.
And you all know I love retail therapy. But I am noticing that when I pay attention to my emotional needs, I can be much more restrained. Much more. Yesterday, mom and I put a minor dent on the Macy's lingerie department--getting unexciting items like a flannel robe for me and new pajamas for Gram. I did more damage at DSW--God, I love DSW!-- where I bought four pairs of shoes. The old, buy-frenzy, rationalizing was there...I think, I mean now I actually am replacing things...but I made really good choices. I bought three pairs at 80% off and one at 40% off. In fact, I limited myself solely to the clearance rack. I spent a good chunk of cash, but I got shoes I could never afford otherwise. I got a completely fanciful pair of Prada platform slingbacks and some Casadei platform pumps that are just a joy to behold --if you are a shoe person--regular retail, they'd both be a rent payment. In fact, I saw the Pradas when we first got here and couldn't afford them even at DSW. But now I have them both for less than what one pair cost on discount. Plus I have a fabulous pair of Coach boots, that my mom thought were extra --"another pair of black boots!"--but these are fur trimmed. And my Target boots are not as fly as these! And isn't it what Barbara Bush would want? For me to have the best boots ever! But I don't want any more. After we were done, I wasn't thinking about the next time we go shopping. I still have to work on the MAC jones, but I am only wanting to buy the things I need. I haven't wanted to go because--without a job-- I don't need a thing. Of course, when I get a job I won't have (as much) time to shop. But I won't need anything else until then.
The things I have bought would certainly qualify as aspirational. When we were in Port Allen, I couldn't stand going to the store for things I needed. I remember going into the store and having a full freakout about the whole thing. I ended up with a pair of khaki pants and two t-shirts. Now I have better things. In part because fall and winter clothes are better, but mostly because when my nerves settled I was able to shop for things I needed for the life I wanted rather than the one I was experiencing. So I feel a little goofy putting on my nice coat, but I can't wear my Katrina gear to an interview--that's not who I am or want to be. Flashing back to all those people who took their FEMA cash to the Houston Galleria. I completely understand. Completely! Some took it to extremes, but I completely understand that you want to get started on a new life, a new perspective so you go out and get the uniform and trappings of that life.
Today I am going to call around about a temporary gym membership or yoga classes. It is way to cold to walk the streets, I need social interaction and I need to get my body moving.
I'll keep you posted...
Everything has literally been wiped clean, except mercifully for the ability for me to regroup and move on. I have, as the saying goes, all that I need for this journey. All that needs to be determined is where I will go.
I've been thinking a lot about women who, when they turn forty or fifty, feel liberated and unleashed to live as themselves. Maybe I can have that revelation early. If I am willing to really take care of me first, I can be who I really am and want to be all the time.
I've been keeping my eyes and ears open, mostly because from where I am now there is little I can do but observe, but I am starting to notice and hopefully learn. I am noticing my own body, how it changes in the course of a day. How I give lip service to treating it better with uneven results. Probably due to stress, my skin has been having a minor freak-out. The acne on my face has been replaced with dry, flaky patches and the rash on my arm that caused so much concern at the beginning of the summer came back. I've succumbed to a few cravings and I can watch my stomach expand after I have some dairy 'treat.' Some other ingredient also causes midsection to swell but I haven't figured out what it is. By some happenstance I caught a PBS special featuring that muscle-bound Dr. Perricone--he who touts skin and anti-ageing diets on Oprah and in bookstores. Anyhow, I stopped and listened to what he had to say about anti-oxidants and anti-inflammatory supplements. I looked through my natural medicine books and remembered that I had embarked on a plan to revise my diet this summer. I n fact, I was sneaking up on a fast--but never did it. Anyhow, over the past few days, I've also noticed magazine articles and newspaaper features about some of the same supplements. Last night I was in CVS and they were having one of those buy-one-get-one free sales that they often have, but I'm never prepared for, on supplements. So I got a huge bottle of fish oil supplements (Omega3 and6) and (though the research is mixed) evening primrose oil, and chromium piccolinate. The chromium piccolinate was actually something an adolescent doctor recommended - and I blew off-- to moderate my then raging hypoglycemia. This time I am hoping it will help not only with glucose regulation but also with my tentative effort to lose twenty pounds or so. The fish and evening primrose oils should help with a variety of complaints. They are said to help with PMS (which I have with a vengeance. I should be locked in a small room before my period. It's when I do 'crazy' things like I did last week. My temper flares, life seems irredeemibly bleak, and I sob like a faucet) so that alone would make it worth trying. It also helps with metabolic regulation and acts as an anti-inflammatory. The fish oil, in fact, because of its anti-inflammatory effects is said to be helpful with lupus, arthritis and similar conditions. Perricone also recommended other supplements, but I need to review the tape. I think Glucosamine condroitin (sp) and Coenzyme Q 10.
I'm not sure of the efficacy of these things. But they are supposed to improve my skin, elevate my mood, help to even my metabolism. I'll certainly report back. But if my head is clear and my body is running smoothly, perhaps I can stem some of the anxiety I've been feeling and come up with some plan that I would actually be able to act on. I'm attempting to take care of myself in preparation for getting back to work rather than vice versa.
And you all know I love retail therapy. But I am noticing that when I pay attention to my emotional needs, I can be much more restrained. Much more. Yesterday, mom and I put a minor dent on the Macy's lingerie department--getting unexciting items like a flannel robe for me and new pajamas for Gram. I did more damage at DSW--God, I love DSW!-- where I bought four pairs of shoes. The old, buy-frenzy, rationalizing was there...I think, I mean now I actually am replacing things...but I made really good choices. I bought three pairs at 80% off and one at 40% off. In fact, I limited myself solely to the clearance rack. I spent a good chunk of cash, but I got shoes I could never afford otherwise. I got a completely fanciful pair of Prada platform slingbacks and some Casadei platform pumps that are just a joy to behold --if you are a shoe person--regular retail, they'd both be a rent payment. In fact, I saw the Pradas when we first got here and couldn't afford them even at DSW. But now I have them both for less than what one pair cost on discount. Plus I have a fabulous pair of Coach boots, that my mom thought were extra --"another pair of black boots!"--but these are fur trimmed. And my Target boots are not as fly as these! And isn't it what Barbara Bush would want? For me to have the best boots ever! But I don't want any more. After we were done, I wasn't thinking about the next time we go shopping. I still have to work on the MAC jones, but I am only wanting to buy the things I need. I haven't wanted to go because--without a job-- I don't need a thing. Of course, when I get a job I won't have (as much) time to shop. But I won't need anything else until then.
The things I have bought would certainly qualify as aspirational. When we were in Port Allen, I couldn't stand going to the store for things I needed. I remember going into the store and having a full freakout about the whole thing. I ended up with a pair of khaki pants and two t-shirts. Now I have better things. In part because fall and winter clothes are better, but mostly because when my nerves settled I was able to shop for things I needed for the life I wanted rather than the one I was experiencing. So I feel a little goofy putting on my nice coat, but I can't wear my Katrina gear to an interview--that's not who I am or want to be. Flashing back to all those people who took their FEMA cash to the Houston Galleria. I completely understand. Completely! Some took it to extremes, but I completely understand that you want to get started on a new life, a new perspective so you go out and get the uniform and trappings of that life.
Today I am going to call around about a temporary gym membership or yoga classes. It is way to cold to walk the streets, I need social interaction and I need to get my body moving.
I'll keep you posted...
Monday, December 19, 2005
Trying to come back
So today is not so hot. Mama's snippy with me because I didn't want to take her and Gram shopping. Thing is...I haven't checked my voicemails or returned phone calls since before Thanksgiving and I promised myself I would do that today...and I still dread the idea of going out. I only have a few days to summon up enough stamina to get out of here for a few hours. I need to get gifts for Gram and Mama. It would have been nice to be able to send a gift to Daddy, but that's not going to happen. I don't have an address for him.
I'm pretty worried about the dread thing. I was feeling it before all this happened, but now I feel it physically. iwas thinking maybe I should start with a part-time job or something. I just feel nauseous about leaving the house. I posted yesterday--but I don't think it made it up--I'm trying to sort through all these feelings and get some solid ground beneath my feet. I don't know if I should give myself a deadline to deal or just ride through this.
Once again I'm thinking of taking that Sisterlocks class. There's one in Philly in February...but I'd actually have to leave the house to make a go of it. A small enterprise for myself might be good though. I could feel a sense of accomplishment again.
I'm pretty worried about the dread thing. I was feeling it before all this happened, but now I feel it physically. iwas thinking maybe I should start with a part-time job or something. I just feel nauseous about leaving the house. I posted yesterday--but I don't think it made it up--I'm trying to sort through all these feelings and get some solid ground beneath my feet. I don't know if I should give myself a deadline to deal or just ride through this.
Once again I'm thinking of taking that Sisterlocks class. There's one in Philly in February...but I'd actually have to leave the house to make a go of it. A small enterprise for myself might be good though. I could feel a sense of accomplishment again.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Back again
It's been a while. I haven't been up to posting, but I've had a hell of a lot on my mind. Having this down time has given me an opportunity to think through things. And definitely feel things. Last time I posted I noticed how I had 'planned' to relocate to NYC or DC by Fall. Dammit, here I am. Anyhow. I guess I'm thinking that it's as good a time as any to figure out where I am and where I want to go next. On the one hand, I wish I wouldn't have put my name in the blog name because I may want to go into some say sensitive areas, but on the other who the hell is really looking so wtf.
I am realizing, as a result of not really having many obligations or much motivation, that there is a list of things I've been not quite dealing with, not quite feeling, resolving, processing. I'm also thinking I'm doing pretty good with some things and not claiming the benefits of that.
I had two interviews for a job in DC, but I pretty much figure I didn't get it. Even though I have this superstition that what you talk about you lose--jobs, relationships, clearance items--I'll go ahead and air it out...especially since I figure I already didn't get it. Well, in the space of waiting between the first and second interview and especially right after the second meeting, I started having--let's call it a panic reaction to the whole idea of going back to work. I felt all clammy and jittery. Not like I've ever felt before. The whole idea of getting up, getting dressed, sitting at a desk all day and interacting with people just made me freak out. So I wasn't exactly heartbroken when I didn't hear good news after a few days and now a few weeks. The problem is I feel thatw ay about just about any job and a lot of social situations and people. I'd just rather take a pass on the whole thing. I'm not sure if that is going to pass on its own, but maybe if I could think of something I'd really like to do I could pursue that.
I spent over a week in New York on J's couch. That was fine until I got pre-menstrual and then had too much to drink at her party. Do not drink and dial, people...the phone is not a toy. Anyhow...I made an ass of myself and totally polluted an already jacked-up 'relationship' that was going nowhere...in retrospect no harm done there, but definitely a prime opportunity for me to reassess there as well. The whole thing involved a situation that wasn't working from about the day after I met the guy. But I've been willing, probably out of boredom and sheer lack of motivation, to go along and not put a bullet in the situation. In fact, I've made half-ass attempts to 'move on'--meaning I've dated other people in the interim--but I decided I needed to make this situation work despite a legitimate depth of feeling of connection. Complete fantasy production. Well, I totally made an ass of myself on the phone...tears, the whole nine yards...why, why, why. I was getting on my own nerves. And for what? I don't know. It seemed more entertaining than facing reality. Yet facing reality is inevitable....
Maybe I'm working up to it. Sneaking up on it. Only fourteen more days in this damn year.
I am realizing, as a result of not really having many obligations or much motivation, that there is a list of things I've been not quite dealing with, not quite feeling, resolving, processing. I'm also thinking I'm doing pretty good with some things and not claiming the benefits of that.
I had two interviews for a job in DC, but I pretty much figure I didn't get it. Even though I have this superstition that what you talk about you lose--jobs, relationships, clearance items--I'll go ahead and air it out...especially since I figure I already didn't get it. Well, in the space of waiting between the first and second interview and especially right after the second meeting, I started having--let's call it a panic reaction to the whole idea of going back to work. I felt all clammy and jittery. Not like I've ever felt before. The whole idea of getting up, getting dressed, sitting at a desk all day and interacting with people just made me freak out. So I wasn't exactly heartbroken when I didn't hear good news after a few days and now a few weeks. The problem is I feel thatw ay about just about any job and a lot of social situations and people. I'd just rather take a pass on the whole thing. I'm not sure if that is going to pass on its own, but maybe if I could think of something I'd really like to do I could pursue that.
I spent over a week in New York on J's couch. That was fine until I got pre-menstrual and then had too much to drink at her party. Do not drink and dial, people...the phone is not a toy. Anyhow...I made an ass of myself and totally polluted an already jacked-up 'relationship' that was going nowhere...in retrospect no harm done there, but definitely a prime opportunity for me to reassess there as well. The whole thing involved a situation that wasn't working from about the day after I met the guy. But I've been willing, probably out of boredom and sheer lack of motivation, to go along and not put a bullet in the situation. In fact, I've made half-ass attempts to 'move on'--meaning I've dated other people in the interim--but I decided I needed to make this situation work despite a legitimate depth of feeling of connection. Complete fantasy production. Well, I totally made an ass of myself on the phone...tears, the whole nine yards...why, why, why. I was getting on my own nerves. And for what? I don't know. It seemed more entertaining than facing reality. Yet facing reality is inevitable....
Maybe I'm working up to it. Sneaking up on it. Only fourteen more days in this damn year.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Keeps coming
There's not too much about this experience that I have any perspective on...I mean, I'm, grateful that I have my life and that my family is safe, and I haven't really thought too, too much about losing all my furniture, books, photos, clothes, pots, pans, etc. etc. etc. I mean material things can mostly be replaced and all that. What keeps getting me is that there is no end to all this. There's no waking up and finding that everything is getting back to normal or drawing to some sort of conclusion. And everytime I think I ahve some sort of handle on things it seems like I haven't bottomed at all. I'm feeling like what's the point...as soon as I deal with this crap there's going to be some fresh hell to deal with. Like my life is some game of dodgeball or something. Not to say I'm having a pity party, though I could just lack perspective. I just, honestly, can't come to some rational philosophical ground for all this. Are we all like ants? Just putting things back the way they were because that's the way the were and that's what we're supposed to do. ANd then when we're all tired out some new ants take our place. It doesn't help at all that I turn on the news and see all the reports about global warming, freaking bird flu, you name it. I suppose humanity has dealt with the probability of disaster and eminent calamity since time immemorial and I've even thought about it in the abstract, but now it's all too real. I don't have children...Should I? I mean in graduate school it was about the existential dilemma of race or class, but now I think about the existential dilemma of our very existence. Wars, famine, plagues...that's no place for a sweet baby. But then you have the partially theological laden hope that the next generation will produce some salvation, some change. But I bet every generation has that hope. As for me, growing up an only child, I always figured having a child as a single person was an extremely precarious situation into which to bring a life. But the divorce rate is so high in this country and so many people--two income or one--live everyday under the encroaching threat of financial ruin...
So I do have this crap on my mind. But I'm really freaking out because my Dad is considering going to Texas with his job. I never actually figured my parents would actually be split up by all this crap. I hope that he doesn't do it. It seems like the worst idea ever for them to be separated right now. But it's not my decision to make. I was rooting for him to find a position up here and transfer until they could make a decision about the house. But my mother comes in this morning and says he's going to go to Texas. Maybe they are still just talking through it. If he goes, I don't know if that means that my mother and Gram are going to go too. I don't know if I could stand to relocate and leave my mother and Gram here alone. I don't know if I could handle the commute if I stayed. And above all I'm pissed that I even have to hyperventilate a second about my parents being separated. In my mind, I need them to be together through all this. I don't need to have them in separate places, having separate worries...
So I do have this crap on my mind. But I'm really freaking out because my Dad is considering going to Texas with his job. I never actually figured my parents would actually be split up by all this crap. I hope that he doesn't do it. It seems like the worst idea ever for them to be separated right now. But it's not my decision to make. I was rooting for him to find a position up here and transfer until they could make a decision about the house. But my mother comes in this morning and says he's going to go to Texas. Maybe they are still just talking through it. If he goes, I don't know if that means that my mother and Gram are going to go too. I don't know if I could stand to relocate and leave my mother and Gram here alone. I don't know if I could handle the commute if I stayed. And above all I'm pissed that I even have to hyperventilate a second about my parents being separated. In my mind, I need them to be together through all this. I don't need to have them in separate places, having separate worries...
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Fall back...
Things are still feeling pretty surreal. I know that I need to find some inner resource of calm, cool collection. But I'm not sure where to look. I am hesitant to leave my bubble of familiarity and hit the mean streets. I guess, though, that's pretty much what I have to do. Last week, or was it the one before--they all blur, we had to take Gram to the hospital. She collapsed in a chair. The doctors couldn't pinpoint a problem and just encouraged her to eat better. It was week before last; this week she had a follow-up visit.
Yesterday FEMA called to find out 1) if we have a place to live--hello it's nearly November, shouldn't you have asked sooner? and 2) if my grandmother wanted a travel trailer. When I pointed out my grandmother's age and the perfect apparent unsuitability of a travel trailer, I was referred to the 800 number to answers to my questions about suitable housing. She was denied an SBA loan in such a way that it would not appear to be age discrimination. But no one seems to have an explanation for how she--by proxy me-- is supposed to 1) assess and develop a plan to deal with her house-- which we still can't access as far as I know and, for all I know is condemned-- providing short term housing and expenses as well as paying for potential salvage and demolition efforts...2) securing suitable housing in another market. There is no way I am going to be able to purchase my grandmother a house comparable to the one she lost with the resources she has, much less one that meets her current needs AND replaces everything she lost.
But it's easier to rant about others. I did not receive any housing assistance from FEMA. My brain is fried. I'm acting as chauffeur, personal advisor, practical nurse, etc. for my family. I'm sleeping on the floor because I'm tired of my feet dangling over the edge of my little bed...The only thing I want to do less than commute to a stressful new job is move to avoid the commute to a stressful new job. But I lost all my crap and come next summer I need to pay all these students loans again and I need to save for my retirement and get some damn medical insurance and...well I need to go on and live a normal freakin' life, right?
I haven't been back to Red Cross since before we drove back to New Orleans. I need to do something. I just need to focus my attention and resolve long enough to come up with some plan for this episode I'm living...
Yesterday FEMA called to find out 1) if we have a place to live--hello it's nearly November, shouldn't you have asked sooner? and 2) if my grandmother wanted a travel trailer. When I pointed out my grandmother's age and the perfect apparent unsuitability of a travel trailer, I was referred to the 800 number to answers to my questions about suitable housing. She was denied an SBA loan in such a way that it would not appear to be age discrimination. But no one seems to have an explanation for how she--by proxy me-- is supposed to 1) assess and develop a plan to deal with her house-- which we still can't access as far as I know and, for all I know is condemned-- providing short term housing and expenses as well as paying for potential salvage and demolition efforts...2) securing suitable housing in another market. There is no way I am going to be able to purchase my grandmother a house comparable to the one she lost with the resources she has, much less one that meets her current needs AND replaces everything she lost.
But it's easier to rant about others. I did not receive any housing assistance from FEMA. My brain is fried. I'm acting as chauffeur, personal advisor, practical nurse, etc. for my family. I'm sleeping on the floor because I'm tired of my feet dangling over the edge of my little bed...The only thing I want to do less than commute to a stressful new job is move to avoid the commute to a stressful new job. But I lost all my crap and come next summer I need to pay all these students loans again and I need to save for my retirement and get some damn medical insurance and...well I need to go on and live a normal freakin' life, right?
I haven't been back to Red Cross since before we drove back to New Orleans. I need to do something. I just need to focus my attention and resolve long enough to come up with some plan for this episode I'm living...
Thursday, October 20, 2005
I'm just doomed...
to be in communicato. After I finally got the DSL up and running, it shut down. So I haven't been able to get back online until today.
I am exhausted.
We came in last night and found Gram slumped over in the kitchen. I called 911 and she spent the evening in an ER exam room. She was dehydrated and probably malnourished. I've been nagging her for weeks about not eating. But what can we do? Can't force the old lady to eat. She's promising to do better. I understand how she feels. This all has been no fun at all. Today I took her to see the eye doctor and now she's in her room.
I just can't keep up with all this.
Now something's wrong with my car. The turn indicators don't work. I hope it's just a fuse. I hardly have time for this. Tomorrow I'm going into DC then meeting Tonya. I'm going to babysit Nia Saturday morning and wait for Janella to come down from New York...I guess I need to turn in early tonight so I can keep up with everything. But I really could curl up in a little ball. It's pretty crisp today...Maybe yesterday was the last warm day...
I am exhausted.
We came in last night and found Gram slumped over in the kitchen. I called 911 and she spent the evening in an ER exam room. She was dehydrated and probably malnourished. I've been nagging her for weeks about not eating. But what can we do? Can't force the old lady to eat. She's promising to do better. I understand how she feels. This all has been no fun at all. Today I took her to see the eye doctor and now she's in her room.
I just can't keep up with all this.
Now something's wrong with my car. The turn indicators don't work. I hope it's just a fuse. I hardly have time for this. Tomorrow I'm going into DC then meeting Tonya. I'm going to babysit Nia Saturday morning and wait for Janella to come down from New York...I guess I need to turn in early tonight so I can keep up with everything. But I really could curl up in a little ball. It's pretty crisp today...Maybe yesterday was the last warm day...
Monday, October 17, 2005
back from new orleans
So this weekend, I went back home to New Orleans. Daddy and I drove down to survey and salvage. I must say that I was dreading the whole experience. But I did it.
My parents house will need to be completely gutted. The water came in about three-quarters up the staircase...about seven feet. Where the water didn't reach, there is mold. Funky mold on all the drywall, covering the furniture, coating our belongings. From one the berooms, you can see straight into the attic and sunlight streams in from the roof. In my room, latex puckers away from the walls, the ceilings threaten to give way...On the other side, my stuf is washed into a massive pile of pulpy, smelly muck...
So from here, I will backtrack and fill in everything I've been doing and plan to do. I've been offline because since I got to Warrenton, I've been without a reliable connection. As I type, I have a new DSL account with Verizon so I can type away...
I'll try and figure out how to post a photo or two...
My parents house will need to be completely gutted. The water came in about three-quarters up the staircase...about seven feet. Where the water didn't reach, there is mold. Funky mold on all the drywall, covering the furniture, coating our belongings. From one the berooms, you can see straight into the attic and sunlight streams in from the roof. In my room, latex puckers away from the walls, the ceilings threaten to give way...On the other side, my stuf is washed into a massive pile of pulpy, smelly muck...
So from here, I will backtrack and fill in everything I've been doing and plan to do. I've been offline because since I got to Warrenton, I've been without a reliable connection. As I type, I have a new DSL account with Verizon so I can type away...
I'll try and figure out how to post a photo or two...
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Log in Lag...
Got a gazillion stories, but Verizon shafted us. Can't log in until we get phone service. Now I'm going to library branch and Red Cross. As soon as I get a place to log in I'll get back up to speed...
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Storm weary
I was just reading about the growing strength of Rita. This evening I went into DC to attend a career networking event. Remember I was going to hit the ground running and all that? Well...whatever. The event was interesting, people were pretty friendly, I have some leads to follow up on...not jobs just friendly contacts...but I'm not feeling it.
Tomorrow we're getting the boot from this hotel because there's a big golf tournament in the area. The gas isn't on at the new place so no hot water or stove. But we can stay there.
I'm just thinking about that wall people hit. Maybe I'm coming up on it. I'm tired of being hopeful and focused. I tired of soldiering through. I just want to stop. I just cringed at being introduced as a "Katrina victim" and at the helpless, overwhelmed stares. "Oh" was a popular response to my third party intros. Here's Renea...she lost everything. The crazy thing is that then I feel compelled to comfort them. "We'll be ok" or "It's not as bad as it could have been" or, my favorite, "Hey! What are you gonna do?"
Everyone was really nice but I just don't want to talk about all this just yet. Some jerk actually asked me if any of my relatives or friends were killed or missing. Like I'm a hypothetical representative of "all this."
Ironically enough it does help to write about it. Whenever I can squeeze in a minute. Things have been so hectic this week I've barely had a chance to think.
Everyone's processing differently. I've developed this hard candy shell. Sometimes I just smile and try to be really nice, other times I cut right to it, no chaser. But I try not to let anything in...And while all my senses feel heightened, my emotions feel really dull. I told my parents we should all ask the Red Cross representative about seeing a counselor. By the way, the staff at the Fauquier Chapter of the Red Cross were extra kind...both of them, Phyllis and Denise. They have a small chapter and the two of them are part time. They have a lot of volunteers helping out.
I feel kind of detached and achy. My arm is all blotchy again but my face has stopped twitching this evening. I've been eating pretty well but not sleeping so much.
I dreamed Robi and Sam were sleeping with me. Sandwiching me in like they used to before Sam started prowling the streets like a real tomcat. I hate to think about them being gone. I tried to reassure myself that the feeling was a reassuring presence. But I feel like I failed them. I haven't gotten any reply about them being rescued. I'll keep checking. Even if I couldn't get them back I hope they find a safe home...
Sigh...
Tomorrow we're getting the boot from this hotel because there's a big golf tournament in the area. The gas isn't on at the new place so no hot water or stove. But we can stay there.
I'm just thinking about that wall people hit. Maybe I'm coming up on it. I'm tired of being hopeful and focused. I tired of soldiering through. I just want to stop. I just cringed at being introduced as a "Katrina victim" and at the helpless, overwhelmed stares. "Oh" was a popular response to my third party intros. Here's Renea...she lost everything. The crazy thing is that then I feel compelled to comfort them. "We'll be ok" or "It's not as bad as it could have been" or, my favorite, "Hey! What are you gonna do?"
Everyone was really nice but I just don't want to talk about all this just yet. Some jerk actually asked me if any of my relatives or friends were killed or missing. Like I'm a hypothetical representative of "all this."
Ironically enough it does help to write about it. Whenever I can squeeze in a minute. Things have been so hectic this week I've barely had a chance to think.
Everyone's processing differently. I've developed this hard candy shell. Sometimes I just smile and try to be really nice, other times I cut right to it, no chaser. But I try not to let anything in...And while all my senses feel heightened, my emotions feel really dull. I told my parents we should all ask the Red Cross representative about seeing a counselor. By the way, the staff at the Fauquier Chapter of the Red Cross were extra kind...both of them, Phyllis and Denise. They have a small chapter and the two of them are part time. They have a lot of volunteers helping out.
I feel kind of detached and achy. My arm is all blotchy again but my face has stopped twitching this evening. I've been eating pretty well but not sleeping so much.
I dreamed Robi and Sam were sleeping with me. Sandwiching me in like they used to before Sam started prowling the streets like a real tomcat. I hate to think about them being gone. I tried to reassure myself that the feeling was a reassuring presence. But I feel like I failed them. I haven't gotten any reply about them being rescued. I'll keep checking. Even if I couldn't get them back I hope they find a safe home...
Sigh...
Downtime explained
OK-- I figured I'd be offline for a few days while I worked out all this moving stuff. But I didn't realize how difficult it would be to get online or how busy I'd be.
How I've spent my days:
1) Waiting for traffic to let up on the Beltway
2) Navigating maps and printing directions from the internet
3) Being late
I got to Maryland last Thursday...I think it was Thursday...the days blur together. But I didn't get to Warrenton until Friday. I think it was Friday. Anyway...the house is really nice. And so is the town and all the people I met. Of course I'm going to flesh all this out. But right now I fell like someone hit me with a bag of quarters.
Tonight despite the fact I am still crazily trying to get things settled at the house, I am driving into DC for a career network event. Got to meet the people. And I have no iron. So I may be rumpled and late. There's a look. But I should be able to work my posting out Thursday and beyond. Oh the stories I'll tell...
How I've spent my days:
1) Waiting for traffic to let up on the Beltway
2) Navigating maps and printing directions from the internet
3) Being late
I got to Maryland last Thursday...I think it was Thursday...the days blur together. But I didn't get to Warrenton until Friday. I think it was Friday. Anyway...the house is really nice. And so is the town and all the people I met. Of course I'm going to flesh all this out. But right now I fell like someone hit me with a bag of quarters.
Tonight despite the fact I am still crazily trying to get things settled at the house, I am driving into DC for a career network event. Got to meet the people. And I have no iron. So I may be rumpled and late. There's a look. But I should be able to work my posting out Thursday and beyond. Oh the stories I'll tell...
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Moving...
It's my second full day in Maryland. I arrived Thursday evening. All the days are running together. I have to check to make sure I know for sure when I left and where I am now. Yesterday I was able to drive into Warrenton and check out the place. My parents are going to be OK there. Today I just need to get some things for Gram, safety rails for the bathroom...I'm going to try and find Mom a tin rooster...just so she'll feel at home.
I'm starting to lose my energy. Once they arrive, I'll really have to process all this. Yesterday I was driving around on the Beltway realizing that there was no home for me to go back to...when my parents arrive, here is where we will be. I am feeling inundated with choices and information. Sitting in traffic yesterday was really the first time I started to get angry and short-tempered about all this. I'm not sure if I should stop and let all this emotion come through or just keep it moving...
This morning I remembered not to put on the same jeans and t-shirt. The routine, uniform was getting kind of comforting. Monday I'll be able to catch up to the Red Cross and really look around Warrenton.
I was reading some of my internet sites for info. One African American message board has already erupted with backlash. People from Houston complaining about people from New Orleans...critiquing how they are allegedly spending their "FEMA money," griping about their behavior and the whole situation. I'm glad we didn't go there. I think like Baton Rouge, Houston, Dallas, maybe even Atlanta are going to have the first outbreaks of 'compassion fatigue' if not outright breakdown. I'm told there are 23 other families relocated by Katrina in Fauquier County, Virginia but I'm not sure where they're from our what their situation is...I'll tell all when I find out.
I've been putting off this FEMA paperwork, but I guess I need to get back to that.
I think it may be a bit trickier to get back into the swing of things than I imagined...
I'm starting to lose my energy. Once they arrive, I'll really have to process all this. Yesterday I was driving around on the Beltway realizing that there was no home for me to go back to...when my parents arrive, here is where we will be. I am feeling inundated with choices and information. Sitting in traffic yesterday was really the first time I started to get angry and short-tempered about all this. I'm not sure if I should stop and let all this emotion come through or just keep it moving...
This morning I remembered not to put on the same jeans and t-shirt. The routine, uniform was getting kind of comforting. Monday I'll be able to catch up to the Red Cross and really look around Warrenton.
I was reading some of my internet sites for info. One African American message board has already erupted with backlash. People from Houston complaining about people from New Orleans...critiquing how they are allegedly spending their "FEMA money," griping about their behavior and the whole situation. I'm glad we didn't go there. I think like Baton Rouge, Houston, Dallas, maybe even Atlanta are going to have the first outbreaks of 'compassion fatigue' if not outright breakdown. I'm told there are 23 other families relocated by Katrina in Fauquier County, Virginia but I'm not sure where they're from our what their situation is...I'll tell all when I find out.
I've been putting off this FEMA paperwork, but I guess I need to get back to that.
I think it may be a bit trickier to get back into the swing of things than I imagined...
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Leaving Port Allen for VA
So my parents had no luck finding housing to accomodate them and Gram in the Baton Rouge area. Gary's family came through big time, so I'm leaving tomorrow (!) to get some things set up in Virginia. My parents will follow in a few days.
So dont' send mail or anything to us in Port Allen. We won't get it.
When I get a new address, I'll let you know...
I should be back to blogging by next week.
So dont' send mail or anything to us in Port Allen. We won't get it.
When I get a new address, I'll let you know...
I should be back to blogging by next week.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Break from Katrinaland
Today I took a break…My parents went out to look for housing, find secondary support for Gram. I only went out once, stopping at local farmers’ market and finally getting a notebook and pens.
So now FEMA is going to throw some cash our way. I can’t find any info about how or when these debit cards will be distributed. I am also concerned about whether my grandmother will receive one. My mother hasn’t talked to her, as far as I know, about this whole insurance hot potato thing. But we have to get it together and file an appeal. Zero dollars for someone’s house fully submerged by water! Bureaucracy reigns. Foolishness reigns!
I really needed a break today. A mental health break. But I don’t want to lose momentum. So either late tonight or first thing tomorrow I’m going to use my new notebook and pen to start a list of job leads and other tasks that need follow-up. I’ve been trying to keep them in my brain…not the most reliable filing system right now.
She didn’t have a lot of details, but apparently the housing market in Baton Rouge is bleak. They were shown a really unacceptable place that even the agent was embarrassed about. They’re going to get back to it tomorrow. The plan is to work something out with their mortgage company or something.
Some of the kids at the motel are going to school. I wonder what it’s like for them. Others run around all day unattended. I wonder what their parents are thinking. Orleans Parish has announced that school is probably closed until January, another parish—St. Bernard, I think—has thrown in the towel for the entire academic year. There’s a sweet little baby on the first floor who’s been wearing the same t-shirt for three days- “Somebody in Costa Playa Loves Me”—another curly haired toddler trods around in diapers and baby work boots. All he says is “Hi”…he’s very focused on staying upright in those big boots.
There are three guys staying the room next door to us. Every night they split a case of beer in the parking lot under a tree. Today I saw a big fluffy cat in someone’s window, gray with that smooshy, flat face.
So the horror begins again. Soledad O’Brien is reporting on over thirty people found dead in a Chalmette nursing home…some dead in their beds…and about 100, also in Chalmette who died awaiting rescue at the Chalmette Slip.
It’s hard to strike the right balance watching all this coverage. I want to know everything. I want to honor those who have lost their lives by not turning away. But I guess you could drown in sorrow taking this all in…
After 9/11 I felt the same way. Coincidentally, I had left New York City the day before that tragedy. How can I turn away? How can I not?
Now it’s my own hometown. I watch the reporters rowing through neighborhoods and I scan the poles for street signs…
Now FEMA wants to ban photos of dead bodies. When will they stop trying to spin and get to their work? If they were helping people they wouldn’t have time to censor the press. I wish someone would tell them to stop telling people who have lost all their possessions to go ONLINE and file a claim. I wish they would dispatch their representatives to the area and start trying to convince people they have some humanity. Now that would be a PR coup…
So now FEMA is going to throw some cash our way. I can’t find any info about how or when these debit cards will be distributed. I am also concerned about whether my grandmother will receive one. My mother hasn’t talked to her, as far as I know, about this whole insurance hot potato thing. But we have to get it together and file an appeal. Zero dollars for someone’s house fully submerged by water! Bureaucracy reigns. Foolishness reigns!
I really needed a break today. A mental health break. But I don’t want to lose momentum. So either late tonight or first thing tomorrow I’m going to use my new notebook and pen to start a list of job leads and other tasks that need follow-up. I’ve been trying to keep them in my brain…not the most reliable filing system right now.
She didn’t have a lot of details, but apparently the housing market in Baton Rouge is bleak. They were shown a really unacceptable place that even the agent was embarrassed about. They’re going to get back to it tomorrow. The plan is to work something out with their mortgage company or something.
Some of the kids at the motel are going to school. I wonder what it’s like for them. Others run around all day unattended. I wonder what their parents are thinking. Orleans Parish has announced that school is probably closed until January, another parish—St. Bernard, I think—has thrown in the towel for the entire academic year. There’s a sweet little baby on the first floor who’s been wearing the same t-shirt for three days- “Somebody in Costa Playa Loves Me”—another curly haired toddler trods around in diapers and baby work boots. All he says is “Hi”…he’s very focused on staying upright in those big boots.
There are three guys staying the room next door to us. Every night they split a case of beer in the parking lot under a tree. Today I saw a big fluffy cat in someone’s window, gray with that smooshy, flat face.
So the horror begins again. Soledad O’Brien is reporting on over thirty people found dead in a Chalmette nursing home…some dead in their beds…and about 100, also in Chalmette who died awaiting rescue at the Chalmette Slip.
It’s hard to strike the right balance watching all this coverage. I want to know everything. I want to honor those who have lost their lives by not turning away. But I guess you could drown in sorrow taking this all in…
After 9/11 I felt the same way. Coincidentally, I had left New York City the day before that tragedy. How can I turn away? How can I not?
Now it’s my own hometown. I watch the reporters rowing through neighborhoods and I scan the poles for street signs…
Now FEMA wants to ban photos of dead bodies. When will they stop trying to spin and get to their work? If they were helping people they wouldn’t have time to censor the press. I wish someone would tell them to stop telling people who have lost all their possessions to go ONLINE and file a claim. I wish they would dispatch their representatives to the area and start trying to convince people they have some humanity. Now that would be a PR coup…
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Oprah in Katrinaland
So the motel TV is copperating enough for me to see Oprah Winfrey today. Apparently, she came down to New Orleans this weekend and tape an episode. I love that woman. Of course, I'm a weepy, snotty mess. But I'm glad that her audience will be reminded that this is still going on. I can't believe how tramautized I feel, and I am lucky. I left before the storm started. I watched the rain come with my family through our motel window. And when I dream at night my house is still there. I have not seen or heard or smelled or feared or known what these faces register. But I still cry everyday...
Thanks Oprah. Thank you for talking and seeing and caring and mostly for making your audience look and understand and witness.
On CNN, they are now discussing New Orleans. People are writing in that they should turn the city into a theme park. Keep the French Quarter and let the rest go back to marshland. My childhood under water. My parents and my grandparents hard earned homes paved over...Wow...People don't think about how the words they say might sound. That damn Barbara Bush. The lives these 'underprivileged' people were living had dignity and value. They are not "better off" or "making out much better" because this calamity swept through their days.
I'm not sure how things will ever get back to normal...not ever.
Thanks Oprah. Thank you for talking and seeing and caring and mostly for making your audience look and understand and witness.
On CNN, they are now discussing New Orleans. People are writing in that they should turn the city into a theme park. Keep the French Quarter and let the rest go back to marshland. My childhood under water. My parents and my grandparents hard earned homes paved over...Wow...People don't think about how the words they say might sound. That damn Barbara Bush. The lives these 'underprivileged' people were living had dignity and value. They are not "better off" or "making out much better" because this calamity swept through their days.
I'm not sure how things will ever get back to normal...not ever.
Barbara Bush comes to Katrinaland
So what am I supposed to be shocked? This is the woman who first looked at George W, surveyed her job as a parent and said, "Mission Accomplished!"
I guess poor people everywhere can thank the Bush Admininstration for turning Katrina into the first natural disaster social service program. Next Washington D.C. will find its poor swept into better environs perhaps by monsoon winds.
As long as she kept her mouth shut, I used to enterain the fantasy that Barbara Bush was just as dumbfounded by her sons and husband as I have been. But now she's opened her mouth. That whole family is a bunch of pseudo-patrician, anti-intellectual misanthropes who could care less about anything or anyone that isn't related to their own cliquish, oil-grubbing world. At least W is a lame duck, soon we'll be done with them.
I applied for the unemployment. I have to wait as long as seven days to find out if I'm eligible.
My grandmother got a letter from FEMA today. It says she is eligible for $0. That's right. I called in and was told that anyone with homeowners' insurance is automatically disqualified. This despite the fact the aftermath of the hurricane damage was caused by flooding which is specifically disallowed by homeowners' insurance. Then I was told I was technically making a help call, to call back in a week because they are focusing on taking claims.
OK. So if my grandmother had no savings, she would be in a shelter. Now she's has to fight Uncle Sam to prove something they should already know. Flooding is not covered by homeowner's insurance. Compounding this all, I'm not even sure my grandmother has homeowner's insurance. She says she does, but I don't know. She also says she asked her agent for a flood policy for a year and got nothing...but that's another rant for another time. Now, though she has no paperwork, I'm going to have to harass my grandmother to remember the name fo the company she has homeowner's insurance with...file a claim, get a letter--if she's covered--that says flood damage is disallowed, and file an appeal with FEMA within 60 days. If she runs out of money to keep her motel room before then, I suppose I should bring her to a shelter...
Oh people, if you only knew...
Since my grandmother lives on her and my deceased grandfather's social security benefits, she qualifies as part of Barbara Bush's new upwardly mobile social segment. Yes, indeed. Gram's getting fat off Uncle Sam. She's moved up like George and Weezy. FEMA said no, but I'm sure she'll get those food stamps. And everyone knows what a bonanza Medicare is...discounted prescriptions and all. WTF! I can't believe Barbara Bsh thinks the Astrodome is the threshold to the promised land, I can't believe she thought New Orleans was such a hellhole anyway!
Gosh, I learn so much everyday...
I guess poor people everywhere can thank the Bush Admininstration for turning Katrina into the first natural disaster social service program. Next Washington D.C. will find its poor swept into better environs perhaps by monsoon winds.
As long as she kept her mouth shut, I used to enterain the fantasy that Barbara Bush was just as dumbfounded by her sons and husband as I have been. But now she's opened her mouth. That whole family is a bunch of pseudo-patrician, anti-intellectual misanthropes who could care less about anything or anyone that isn't related to their own cliquish, oil-grubbing world. At least W is a lame duck, soon we'll be done with them.
I applied for the unemployment. I have to wait as long as seven days to find out if I'm eligible.
My grandmother got a letter from FEMA today. It says she is eligible for $0. That's right. I called in and was told that anyone with homeowners' insurance is automatically disqualified. This despite the fact the aftermath of the hurricane damage was caused by flooding which is specifically disallowed by homeowners' insurance. Then I was told I was technically making a help call, to call back in a week because they are focusing on taking claims.
OK. So if my grandmother had no savings, she would be in a shelter. Now she's has to fight Uncle Sam to prove something they should already know. Flooding is not covered by homeowner's insurance. Compounding this all, I'm not even sure my grandmother has homeowner's insurance. She says she does, but I don't know. She also says she asked her agent for a flood policy for a year and got nothing...but that's another rant for another time. Now, though she has no paperwork, I'm going to have to harass my grandmother to remember the name fo the company she has homeowner's insurance with...file a claim, get a letter--if she's covered--that says flood damage is disallowed, and file an appeal with FEMA within 60 days. If she runs out of money to keep her motel room before then, I suppose I should bring her to a shelter...
Oh people, if you only knew...
Since my grandmother lives on her and my deceased grandfather's social security benefits, she qualifies as part of Barbara Bush's new upwardly mobile social segment. Yes, indeed. Gram's getting fat off Uncle Sam. She's moved up like George and Weezy. FEMA said no, but I'm sure she'll get those food stamps. And everyone knows what a bonanza Medicare is...discounted prescriptions and all. WTF! I can't believe Barbara Bsh thinks the Astrodome is the threshold to the promised land, I can't believe she thought New Orleans was such a hellhole anyway!
Gosh, I learn so much everyday...
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