Friday, July 29

Happy Birthday, S!

Today, one of the greatest people I have been blessed to meet in this life, is celebrating her birthday. She's miles away...and having the time of her life. I couldn't be prouder of her for making the move that she did; she is an example of strength. S is one of the kindest, funniest, sweetest, most beautiful, sincere and genuine people you will ever meet. I am so lucky to have her as a friend. I can only hope to give back to her what she has given me over the years, for she deserves nothing but the very best.

Have a wonderful, fair-filled birthday, S. I love you with all my heart!

My garden.

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So this is the full garden (well, actually, to the left are more plants -- but it's the majority of it). Sorry the pic is kind of little. But isn't it beautiful? I love my garden. Can you tell? I also have some lettuce in there that I just realized I didn't label. You can kind of see it in the top picture above the zuchini leaves and below the tomatoes. It looks really great and almost ready to pick, except it's really light green and I'm wondering if it's going to get darker. It looks exactly like the picture on the seed packet, except for the color. Anyone know if I'm doing something wrong? And check out that Took plant, isn't it handsome?

Thursday, July 28

I'm so proud! Look at my little pepper!

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Oh how he's grown...the time goes so fast.
*sniff* *sniff*

Pride a ribbon could never display.

Last night as I was driving home, my phone rang and up popped my dad's picture. Earlier in the day, I had emailed the below post to my mom, curious as to what she would think about what I had wrote. She emailed me later saying she was impressed by what I had written and thanked me for sharing it. What I didn't know was that she had forwarded it to my dad (which I would've done on my own, I just spaced it). I answered my dad's call and he immediately said, "I'm so damn proud of you." I asked why, and he replied, "Your mom sent me what you had written, I am so proud. This is what we need to do, this is what you kids need to keep doing. They did this for Vietnam, and it eventually ended the war. I think this is great." I was taken aback by his comments, I certainly hadn't expected them. I knew my parents weren't in agreement with Bush, but I was not exaclty confident they felt this war was unjust, as politics are not usually a topic of choice in our family. What my dad said next, filled me with pride - he had forwarded what I had written to everyone he knew. He had also printed it out, and was bringing it into work today for his coworkers to read in the break room. (Actually, his words were, "I'm bringing it in so all those damn republicans can read it.")

Guys, I can't explain how this made me feel. Up until two weeks ago, I was an avid news-avoider. I have the NYTimes as my homepage at work, but I would only quickly glance at the headlines and then continue on to my other work out of fear of becoming sick with what I would read. But my trip to D.C. struck me, made me realize I need to stop living in the dark and find out ways to make a difference. And I can already feel it. I'm psyched my dad is doing this, that he's going to share the story that made this whole thing so real. If it even changes one person's opinion, I'll feel like I've succeeded. And you know what? This is only the beginning.

Wednesday, July 27

Cindy Sheehan

I know I promised a post about D.C. (um...S!), but I have to get this out, I want to share this story with you. I feel empowered to share it, to spread the truth so others can get a better understanding of who the person is that is running our country. I apologize ahead of time, some of what I'm about to write may not settle too well with you. But that's the point.

Last night, I attended a talk given by a woman named Cindy Sheehan whose son, Casey Sheehan, was killed in the war in Iraq. She was introduced to the sweltering crowd at the Beneficient Church in downtown Providence as a woman "who lost her son in the war." She immediately explained that she is more often than not introduced as a woman who "lost" someone. She said she once lost her son in Disney World; her son was murdered and she knows exactly where he is: in a coffin. She didn't want sympathy, she wants people to become angry at what is going on in the Middle East, angry that we are being lied to repeatedly, angry that thousands upon thousands of lives are being innocently lost - both Iraqian and Amerian - for no reason except for the President to gain even more power in this world. She wants people to know the truth behind the bloodshed and media deceit we are being fed.

I wish I could remember everything that she said, all the reasons she gave as proof of this war being unneccesary and unjust. But unfortunately, my memory is horrible. However, I do remember the story she told that will stick with me for the rest of my life, and the story that I am going to tell here. This story was the point where it became real to me exactly what kind of person (I say person because I am convinced he may not even be human) George Bush is. Before her son left for the war, he was told they would be greeted by children handing out chocolates and flowers, expressing unending thanks for being their saviors in this world. He was there 4 days before he was shot in the back of the head (by a weapon that, most likely, was given to an Iraqi by Americans back when we were friends with Sadaam). He was armored in a vest left over from the Vietnam War, a green vest; he might as well have been wearing a flashing sign stating: "Here I am! Here I am!" There are varying stories about his last breaths, but what she does know is he eventually died in a hospital while a nurse was trying to hold his brains in and a doctor was trying viligently to get his heart pumping once again. He never got handed chocolates and flowers, the children of Iraq would have actually had to have wanted them there, first. After he was sent back to California to be buried, the Sheehan's were invited to the White House for a memorial for their son. They awaited the president in a room with various families of soldiers who were killed. He walked in and the first thing out of his mouth, in a long Texas-drawl, was, "So who are we honoring here today?" He spoke the sentence out loud to the room, he didn't even bother to find out before he walked in. He came up to the Sheenan's and never once called their son a "He" and not once referred to him as any form of a human being at all. He also never once looked any of them in their eyes. He bent down to speak to Casey's sister and said, "I wish I could bring your loved one back," as if it was being played from a tape recorder, without a trace of affection in his words. She replied in agreement, "Yeh, I wish you could!" He simply said back, soaked in arrogance, "I bet you do." Further down the line, another woman whose only son was killed by his war had, prior to the memorial, written a letter blaming the president for the death of her son, calling him a murderer and stating she will do everything she possibly can to prevent anyone else from being innocently killed and deceived by this war. He had apparently been read the letter before he came into the room, and knew what she had written Before she said anything, he got within an inch of her face and said (approximately, my memory isn't the greatest), "I am George W. Bush, the President of the United States, and I hear you have something to say to me." She didn't back down, she told him everything she had written in the letter, including calling him a murderer.

Casey Sheehan was killed on 04/04/04, exactly 37 years after Martin Luther King, Jr. was assasinated, and exactly 38 years after he wrote "Letter From Birmingham Jail." This significant date has driven Cindy Sheehan to lead a life dedicated to ending unjust wars and spreading the truth about the politics in this country. She hopes to motivate the citzens of this nation to take back their country and make a stop to this war. The last poll showed that over 60% of Americans believed there is no just reason for us to be in this war --- so how is it that we have no control over the fate of our sons and daughters? They enlisted into the military because they felt it was their duty to protect our soil and fight for our freedom, but they didn't enlist to be lied to or used in the fight for ultimate power over the rest of the world.

I recommend checking out the Gold Star Families for Peace group's site (http://www.gsfp.org/) that Cindy Sheenan helped found. I especially encourage you to read the poem that her daughter wrote about the death of her brother, the poem "A Nation Rocked to Sleep," that moved me to tears as she read it to the audience last night. (If you go to the site, it's on the opening page about half way down). I know that this talk, as well as my trip to D.C. has given me a motivation I've needed for a very long time now, motivation to start fighting for what we should be handed to as citizens of this so called "free nation." I hope I can continue to find ways to express this, and I hope you can somehow find a way to do so in your own lives. As of late, I've felt like a stranger to myself. I'm not used to this energy, but I am soaking it up and hoping it sticks around.

Ok, I promise, the D.C. one is next up!

Tuesday, July 26

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Here is the only photo I took at the DC zoo to hold you over until I finish the post about my trip later on today. Until then, sit back and enjoy the flowers.

Friday, July 8

Some advice from an Idiot about other Idiots.

In case you haven't noticed, I've been on a bit of a hiatus lately. After it was apparent my instincts were, in fact, dead on - AGAIN - for the umpteenth time, I guess I needed a little time to myself to mull things over. So now I'm back, only a little bitter, and more imortantly, realizing more and more that it's nothing wrong with me -- that it's the guy that is just being idiotic and missing out on a fabulous catch. Now, I'm not one of those gals who always says all guys suck or are stupid, but I do have to say, I may have been given clarity on that very supject. Yesterday T and I were discussing men with one of the professor's here. He said it bluntly, "Women always think they've found the one man in the universe that is different, the one man out of the billion that is wonderful. Then they realize at some point down the line, that he is no different. Let me save you the time, we are ALL IDIOTS. Every single one of us: IDIOTS. It's just how we are. We can't change that. So just stop thinking you'll find the one exception and you won't keep getting disappointed." Both T and I found this rather refreshing, and so true that every woman thinks that she's found that one exception, including me on more than one occasion. And what do they always end up doing? Fucking up. Being stupid. Missing out. Now, his point was not that they aren't worth it, because he's happily married -- but we need to stop thinking the one you find will be different. Chances are, they don't have a chance in a million of being different. And if, by chance, they really truly seem to be --- give them time. But it's ok, guys, the good news is we know you're worth it. But do know, that the secret is out; which, really, should make it easier for you. Just do us all a favor and stop pretending like you're perfect from the beginning -- that way, when you fuck up down the line, we won't be surprised and shocked that you really are no different from those other guys.

So, on another note, although still kind of related, my grandfather is getting married this weekend. It's a little strange for me, as I was really close to my grandmother, who only passed away 3 years ago. But I am fully aware that it's his happiness that matters, and I'm trying to be ok with it. Which, I am sure I will be, as soon as I see how happy he is. I kind of just need to get it over with. In addition to this, I will be spending ample time getting excited about a little trip I spontaneously planned to D.C. After getting dumped on my ass out of no where, I decided instead of wallowing in the frustration I was experiencing at having another great prospect go down the drain, I called my friend H and told her to expect a visitor - I was planning on having some fun single gal time in a city I'd never been to. We haven't seen one another in about 4 years, and it's due time we made up for that. So it's sure to be an all-out gab fest among pints of beer intermingled with laughter and tears in the capital city. I'm really really looking forward to it. I just wish my damn iPod Shuffle wasn't a piece of shit and I would have some music for my travels. I hate thinking of being without my tunes for a whole 5 days when numerous forms of transportation will be used alone. I may just have to resort to signing aloud and amusing myself by flashing strangers on the subway and in the airport. No wait, that only happens to T during class. Guess I'll have to find my own form of entertainment. Until I leave next friday, you should hear from me again. Because, after all, it's back to normal for me -- I'm once again alone. Only this time, a little more fired up.