In San Francisco.
Yowtch! But now I have a shot at getting it back, as I sit presently at my folks' house in Sonora, Calif.
Let's hear it for 50° and sunny! I'm here for a week. I almost kissed the ground at Oakland airport, but then it was gross. So I didn't. I had a sort of mission-impossible moment where I picked up my friend's car. There I am, x-mas eve, crawling on the ground searching for a hide-a-key and hoping to get somewhere to crash, because the San Joaquin valley had fog so thick that there was 1/4-mile visability for 60 miles of the trip.
Anyhow, all for now.
Monday, December 27, 2004
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
thirty-seven degrees.
The good news is that I'm staying put in DC for a bit, until students get back to school and stuff.
The bad news is that the East Coast winter is actally upon us. It was 37° F in DC today, but with wind chill it felt like 27°. This now means something to me before, whereas in my halcyon winters of yore, these were numbers on the Weather Channel screen.
As much as I love it here, I can't wait for my California winter break...and my pals!
The bad news is that the East Coast winter is actally upon us. It was 37° F in DC today, but with wind chill it felt like 27°. This now means something to me before, whereas in my halcyon winters of yore, these were numbers on the Weather Channel screen.
As much as I love it here, I can't wait for my California winter break...and my pals!
Thursday, December 09, 2004
very special guest star
D.C. is so weird. I'm really still adjusting to things like this.
This morning I come into work (somewhat sickly, I might add) to find lots of bustling in the entryway.
Upon greeting my co-worker, she informs me that the conservative thinktank a few floors above us is hosting none other than Dick Cheney. We all think of terribly subversive things, like posting flyers in the elevators that say "Dick Cheney is a war criminal" and whatnot (nothing more than that, actually) but decide that none of us were planning on risking tangles with the secret service for something so minor. Ah, well. We were threatened with being frisked upon re-entering our workplace. In practice, it meant that the building and a two-block radius around it were crawling with cops, who promptly motorcaded all around when I left to meet up with Elly. As I exited the elevator, it was clear that the presence of my nose-ring gave pause to many security personnel nearby. I could see them asking themselves, "How did HE get in here?" So I sneered and left, and got a vegan empanada, and watched the cops frustrate pedestrians and commuters alike.
I swear someone was assigned to simply hang out in the men's bathroom for several hours. It's never been so busy in there.
What a strange place indeed.
This morning I come into work (somewhat sickly, I might add) to find lots of bustling in the entryway.
Upon greeting my co-worker, she informs me that the conservative thinktank a few floors above us is hosting none other than Dick Cheney. We all think of terribly subversive things, like posting flyers in the elevators that say "Dick Cheney is a war criminal" and whatnot (nothing more than that, actually) but decide that none of us were planning on risking tangles with the secret service for something so minor. Ah, well. We were threatened with being frisked upon re-entering our workplace. In practice, it meant that the building and a two-block radius around it were crawling with cops, who promptly motorcaded all around when I left to meet up with Elly. As I exited the elevator, it was clear that the presence of my nose-ring gave pause to many security personnel nearby. I could see them asking themselves, "How did HE get in here?" So I sneered and left, and got a vegan empanada, and watched the cops frustrate pedestrians and commuters alike.
I swear someone was assigned to simply hang out in the men's bathroom for several hours. It's never been so busy in there.
What a strange place indeed.
Friday, December 03, 2004
I heart n.c.
I've split my time between Brooke's place in Chapel Hill and this awesome, awesome place in Durham - House of Mango. It's an activist/organizer collective living place near downtown, and instead of writing blog posts before bedtime, I've been up engaging in all manner of conversation with the folks who live here.
Since it's finals-time, it's been like pulling teeth to get meetings with students. This is a difficulty for a student organizer, but it's enabled me to spend time making connections with various community organizers, which is a good thing. I had lunch today wiht Tema Okun, long-time trainer with changework, now an adjunct professor at Guilford, and a general anti-racist Big Deal. It was really awesome to sit down and have a conversation with her about post-elections analysis and movement building, seeing as I'm a whopping 3-year veteran and she's been doing this her whole life. She also happens to have an amazingly fluffy cat named Pete.
Afterwards, off to Winston-Salem to meet with another organizer-type person, and back again to meet with a student. At least as we near the end of the week, students have turned their papers in and find a hour here or there. I do appreciate it, since it's not like there aren't other things going on for them. But we ate at a lovely Kenyan food restaurant mere blocks from where I began my day.
I'm darn sleepy, so this is not my most engaging post. Perhaps I'll quit while I'm behind. :)
Since it's finals-time, it's been like pulling teeth to get meetings with students. This is a difficulty for a student organizer, but it's enabled me to spend time making connections with various community organizers, which is a good thing. I had lunch today wiht Tema Okun, long-time trainer with changework, now an adjunct professor at Guilford, and a general anti-racist Big Deal. It was really awesome to sit down and have a conversation with her about post-elections analysis and movement building, seeing as I'm a whopping 3-year veteran and she's been doing this her whole life. She also happens to have an amazingly fluffy cat named Pete.
Afterwards, off to Winston-Salem to meet with another organizer-type person, and back again to meet with a student. At least as we near the end of the week, students have turned their papers in and find a hour here or there. I do appreciate it, since it's not like there aren't other things going on for them. But we ate at a lovely Kenyan food restaurant mere blocks from where I began my day.
I'm darn sleepy, so this is not my most engaging post. Perhaps I'll quit while I'm behind. :)
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
The light of freedom
This morning I woke up on a sofa to the sounds of my grad student friends getting ready for class. I shuffled around in my jammies and Brooke made us some coffee, and the day begun in earnest. She worked on a paper while gleefully ditching a class. She’s struggling to write a peer-review paper to an almost all-white Planning Department that gets at the centrality of power, the racism inherent in white folks designing the neighborhoods, houses and lives of low-income folks of Color in basic terms. I’m writing a bazillion emails to students, hoping to get one or two to write me back so we can meet about the campaign I’m working on. Brooke stops for a second and describes a paragraph about white supremacy culture in planning committees and departments, and I argue that while it’s useful to point out, concrete examples about the power relationship between the department itself and the institution of planning (it’s not the only majority white Planning department, I hazard to guess) - and provide suggestions for how to change that dynamic.
Brooke leaves, conference calls about, and eventually I get dressed and set out for the highlight of my day. Brooke has informed me that two SNCC field organizers, Wazir Peacock and Hollis Watkins, are speaking - first at Duke and later at North Carolina Central University, an Historically Black University. I decide that since no students have yet returned my phone calls/emails, I’m going to both.
It was inspiring and humbling to hear the stories of these two men who faced guns, dogs, beatings, but all the while were supported by amazing networks of local people, to get African American people registered to vote. I’d read the amazing book, I’ve Got the Light of Freedom (the author is Charles Payne), so I had some idea of who these men were and the role they played in the Civil Rights Movement. But never did I think I’d get the chance to hear them, particularly in a college meeting room in North Carolina. They were both from Mississippi, which contrasted with many field organizers who weren’t organizing in the places they grew up.
Here are links to interviews with each of them:
Hollis Watkins: http://www.lib.usm.edu/%7Espcol/crda/oh/watkins.htm
Wille Wazir Peacock: http://www.crmvet.org/vet/wazir.htm
Their message was clear: national organizers need to be respectful and not trample on the slow, patient work of organizing on the ground; white folks still have to organize in white communities against racism; the media didn’t portray an accurate picture of the inside workings of SNCC. There were many more, but they’re far better read in the book, I can’t do justice to a 500-page book in a paragraph.
Hollis Watkins is still organizing in Mississippi - he founded a leadership-development organization called Southern Echo.
OK, well, it’s 1am and I have a bus to catch tomorrow, so I have to leave it at that. But as my brain processes the insights from tonight, I will post them here, I promise.
Brooke leaves, conference calls about, and eventually I get dressed and set out for the highlight of my day. Brooke has informed me that two SNCC field organizers, Wazir Peacock and Hollis Watkins, are speaking - first at Duke and later at North Carolina Central University, an Historically Black University. I decide that since no students have yet returned my phone calls/emails, I’m going to both.
It was inspiring and humbling to hear the stories of these two men who faced guns, dogs, beatings, but all the while were supported by amazing networks of local people, to get African American people registered to vote. I’d read the amazing book, I’ve Got the Light of Freedom (the author is Charles Payne), so I had some idea of who these men were and the role they played in the Civil Rights Movement. But never did I think I’d get the chance to hear them, particularly in a college meeting room in North Carolina. They were both from Mississippi, which contrasted with many field organizers who weren’t organizing in the places they grew up.
Here are links to interviews with each of them:
Hollis Watkins: http://www.lib.usm.edu/%7Espcol/crda/oh/watkins.htm
Wille Wazir Peacock: http://www.crmvet.org/vet/wazir.htm
Their message was clear: national organizers need to be respectful and not trample on the slow, patient work of organizing on the ground; white folks still have to organize in white communities against racism; the media didn’t portray an accurate picture of the inside workings of SNCC. There were many more, but they’re far better read in the book, I can’t do justice to a 500-page book in a paragraph.
Hollis Watkins is still organizing in Mississippi - he founded a leadership-development organization called Southern Echo.
OK, well, it’s 1am and I have a bus to catch tomorrow, so I have to leave it at that. But as my brain processes the insights from tonight, I will post them here, I promise.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
felt up by the State - a ranty little post
OK, I know there are a lot of people in this world who have it worse off when it comes to the Transportation Security Authority. But a combination of one-way flights, a job of constant travel, and my propensity to be selected for the ‘special people’ line at the airport in general had me on the brink this morning.
First off, I have to say “limited pat-down” my ASS. Whatever dude is patting me down manages to get what little handful I have left after chest surgery firmly grasped. I try not to be cranky, I know it’s not entirely their fault, but DAMN.
Then, to top it off, I thought this morning that I had made it through when I was abruptly taken from the boarding line back to the blasted security area and put through the ringer again. Bleah.
It probably didn’t help that I realized on my way to the car rental counter that in my haste I forgot that I NO LONGER HAVE A DRIVER’S LICENSE because it’s some where in Columbus Georgia and hence could not retrieve my rental car. Yep, totally stranded at Raleigh-Durham airport, where there is no mass transit on Sundays. I thought I’d wait it out for one of my gracious hosts to pick me up with my friend/her housemate Brooke Dubose, who was supposed to arrive from a New York flight at 1:15. Nope, no such luck. Her flight was delayed several hours, and finally after winding up in a sleep-deprived, low-blood-sugar, tormented daze I staggered out to the taxi stand and coughed up the $40 to go to Chapel Hill. At least the weather was nice, once I actually made it out of the airport.
After half an hour of nausiated weirdness, I got a falafel sandwich and a coffee and all was better with the world. Brooke wouldn’t arrive until 4:30pm, and we’d both had 6:00am flights. At least I now know that it wasn’t just The Universe vs. Max.
First off, I have to say “limited pat-down” my ASS. Whatever dude is patting me down manages to get what little handful I have left after chest surgery firmly grasped. I try not to be cranky, I know it’s not entirely their fault, but DAMN.
Then, to top it off, I thought this morning that I had made it through when I was abruptly taken from the boarding line back to the blasted security area and put through the ringer again. Bleah.
It probably didn’t help that I realized on my way to the car rental counter that in my haste I forgot that I NO LONGER HAVE A DRIVER’S LICENSE because it’s some where in Columbus Georgia and hence could not retrieve my rental car. Yep, totally stranded at Raleigh-Durham airport, where there is no mass transit on Sundays. I thought I’d wait it out for one of my gracious hosts to pick me up with my friend/her housemate Brooke Dubose, who was supposed to arrive from a New York flight at 1:15. Nope, no such luck. Her flight was delayed several hours, and finally after winding up in a sleep-deprived, low-blood-sugar, tormented daze I staggered out to the taxi stand and coughed up the $40 to go to Chapel Hill. At least the weather was nice, once I actually made it out of the airport.
After half an hour of nausiated weirdness, I got a falafel sandwich and a coffee and all was better with the world. Brooke wouldn’t arrive until 4:30pm, and we’d both had 6:00am flights. At least I now know that it wasn’t just The Universe vs. Max.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
connecting in Connecticut
My pal Cathy Rion invited me to her house for Thanksgiving (I prefer 'thanks-taking', since that's a bit more historically accurate). It was lovely, three days of sleeping in, except for that last one where I got three hours of sleep because of the 6am flight and the lots of political conversation that needed to be had. Like, until one am. Yipes.
I felt bad because in the intervening time, Elly's family wound up with an extra space in their minivan, bound for her Grandma's house in South Carolina. But my parents taught me what Ms. Manners has taught so many before me - you go with the first person to whome you made a commitment.
One of my favorite debates was one where Cathy asked her parents if they knew where any gay bars in Hartford were located. Somehow Cathy's mom was convinced that gay folks abound, in virtually every popular Hartford nightspot. Her dad vehemently (but good-naturedly) disagreed - sort of a 'just because gay people go there doesn't make it a gay bar' sort of defense. Upon inspection, neither Cathy nor I found the gay people. OK, a few here and there, but not hanging out at a bar.
Another incongruous West Hartford moment: I have a tendancy to Google (yes, it's a verb now) the name of the town I'm in plus "vegan" and "food". This leads Cathy and I on an adventure one afternoon to a café that radiates tie-dye before we've even made it in the door. Is it because I'm from California that I find these places? Or are there secret networks of New England hippies just waiting to be found?
It was only the second place I've been in my life where I ordered a tofu sandwich and the tofu came RAW. The other place was Boonville, California, and that was at least salted and had avocado as its companion. At I looked at my West Hartford raw-tofu-and-sprouts-on-a-whole-wheat-tortilla, I realized that it was this very kind of item that made all my non-veggie friends whinge at the mere mention of my beloved soy staple. *Sigh*. But everything else we got there was quite tasty. I remarked to Cathy that I was glad it was me who had the sandwich and not someone without the practice of ten years of veganity. She agreed.
I felt bad because in the intervening time, Elly's family wound up with an extra space in their minivan, bound for her Grandma's house in South Carolina. But my parents taught me what Ms. Manners has taught so many before me - you go with the first person to whome you made a commitment.
One of my favorite debates was one where Cathy asked her parents if they knew where any gay bars in Hartford were located. Somehow Cathy's mom was convinced that gay folks abound, in virtually every popular Hartford nightspot. Her dad vehemently (but good-naturedly) disagreed - sort of a 'just because gay people go there doesn't make it a gay bar' sort of defense. Upon inspection, neither Cathy nor I found the gay people. OK, a few here and there, but not hanging out at a bar.
Another incongruous West Hartford moment: I have a tendancy to Google (yes, it's a verb now) the name of the town I'm in plus "vegan" and "food". This leads Cathy and I on an adventure one afternoon to a café that radiates tie-dye before we've even made it in the door. Is it because I'm from California that I find these places? Or are there secret networks of New England hippies just waiting to be found?
It was only the second place I've been in my life where I ordered a tofu sandwich and the tofu came RAW. The other place was Boonville, California, and that was at least salted and had avocado as its companion. At I looked at my West Hartford raw-tofu-and-sprouts-on-a-whole-wheat-tortilla, I realized that it was this very kind of item that made all my non-veggie friends whinge at the mere mention of my beloved soy staple. *Sigh*. But everything else we got there was quite tasty. I remarked to Cathy that I was glad it was me who had the sandwich and not someone without the practice of ten years of veganity. She agreed.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
adios ratones
I touched down at Dulles airport last night at midnight, 40 minutes after a 2-hour delay at Raleigh-Durham. Short my wallet and several hours of sleep, and facing a complicated question from my immediate pals: "How was the SOA protest?"
Erhem. Uhm, complicated. I walked into a scene that made me understand a couple of things pretty quickly:
* Why I was hearing from a variety of folks of Color who attend the School of the Americas (/WHINESEC) protest that it's very alienating, even by majority-white lefty gathering standards.
* Exactly what kind of an uphill battle my pal in the anti-oppression working group has taken on.
Don't get me wrong, it's really exciting that 5-10,000 people want the School of the Americas shut down. I'm so right there with them. It's just a little tough for me to understand, given the origins and entire philosophy that brought the SOA into existence, that it would be such a fight to get the mostly white audience to understand the connections to racism. Yipes.
There's very little longer-term interaction with the location of Columbus, Georgia, who has played host to the SOA protest for fourteen years. There are vegetarian menus at some of the local restaurants, and people vending food all along the protest courseway - the entrance to Fort Benning. The town is friendly, but small and it's economy is very clearly tied to the Fort. All the local billboards proclaim that it's OK if you have bad credit, they want to talk to you nonetheless. If you want military surplus, financing, used cars, bail bonds, and welcoming restaurant staff, you've come to the right place. Given this scenario, perhaps it's understandable that there's a cultural canyon from the mostly white, Jesuit university students, faculty, and community and the folks who live year-round in Columbus.
Given the number of bail bonds proprieters in town, I was struck by how watching relatively priviledged mostly white kids 'cross the line' to be dragged off to minimum-security prison for up to 6 months and five thousand dollars worth of fines, a tactic that has done little to actually stop the training of torturers in the course of 14 years, might seem absurd to local people. But I'm not all that sure - I should've spoken with people more directly myself. For the most part, and one of the few people with a rental car I was volunteering to schlep people all over town. I appreciate that people are living out their principles. I always appreciate that. But the apparatus and performance that creates it, that was harder for me to deal with. The invisibility of privilege, the lack of connection between, perhaps, the School of the Americas and torturous practices within U.S. prisons. Heck, people are being carted off to jail, it's not that hard to make the logical leap, that might make this all a little more relevant.
On the good side, it was the biggest gathering of its kind. The procession and liturgical reading of the names of victims from various SOA graduates is undeniably powerful and respectful memorial to those who have died at the hands of this institution. I just also want to know what it will take to get it to stop, for real.
My dear pal is working her hiney off to highlight these issues, as she's been a part of the SOA Watch community for a long time. I honor her fortitude and will try to support her as best I can; I just hope there are folks within her community who will do the same.
There was a 'gun and knife' show happening in the main convention center, just feet from the protest center. Cover was $7, which dissuaded us from checking it out on principle.
-------
By 3:00pm we were on the road, I drove us from Columbus, Georgia to just outside of Greenville, South Carolina. I have to stop and comment briefly on the ubiquity of waffles in the South...it is truly impressive! I've never seen so many various houses of Waffle, local and chain, in my life. By the time I hand over the driving, I've realized that my wallet is back in Georgia.
A brief dinner and we're on the road - being falsely led to believe we're near Raleigh/Durham. Tamara and I are dropped at the car rental counter by 10:30pm, off to get hopelessly lost in Chapel Hill, eventually finding our host, who has graciously prepared an air mattress, chips, salsa, tea, and her company. My old pal Brooke Dubose, whom I met in the Bay Area when she was working for Global Exchange - it was great to see her. We're up and out by 9:30 for a meeting with a student leader at Duke by 10, and at a protest by 11:30. North Carolina is beautiful, and one of these days I'll plonk down for a digital camera and blog some of these places so you'll see what I mean. Trees that change color are not overrated. Things I didn't understand until recently.
The protest was sparsely attended, but students had spent all night making brilliant T-shirts highlighting both the abuse of worker's rights and health conditions at their privatized dining facility. On one side was a rat (who became a mascot for obviously stomach-turning reasons) with fur in the shape of a corporate logo - on the back it proclaimed, "¡Adios, ratones!" I love it.
This is as much as I have time/brain cells to report, and I'm off for Connecticut on Thursday. How many states is that? How long have I been here? I'll draw a map and scan it at some point.
Signing off from D.C.
Erhem. Uhm, complicated. I walked into a scene that made me understand a couple of things pretty quickly:
* Why I was hearing from a variety of folks of Color who attend the School of the Americas (/WHINESEC) protest that it's very alienating, even by majority-white lefty gathering standards.
* Exactly what kind of an uphill battle my pal in the anti-oppression working group has taken on.
Don't get me wrong, it's really exciting that 5-10,000 people want the School of the Americas shut down. I'm so right there with them. It's just a little tough for me to understand, given the origins and entire philosophy that brought the SOA into existence, that it would be such a fight to get the mostly white audience to understand the connections to racism. Yipes.
There's very little longer-term interaction with the location of Columbus, Georgia, who has played host to the SOA protest for fourteen years. There are vegetarian menus at some of the local restaurants, and people vending food all along the protest courseway - the entrance to Fort Benning. The town is friendly, but small and it's economy is very clearly tied to the Fort. All the local billboards proclaim that it's OK if you have bad credit, they want to talk to you nonetheless. If you want military surplus, financing, used cars, bail bonds, and welcoming restaurant staff, you've come to the right place. Given this scenario, perhaps it's understandable that there's a cultural canyon from the mostly white, Jesuit university students, faculty, and community and the folks who live year-round in Columbus.
Given the number of bail bonds proprieters in town, I was struck by how watching relatively priviledged mostly white kids 'cross the line' to be dragged off to minimum-security prison for up to 6 months and five thousand dollars worth of fines, a tactic that has done little to actually stop the training of torturers in the course of 14 years, might seem absurd to local people. But I'm not all that sure - I should've spoken with people more directly myself. For the most part, and one of the few people with a rental car I was volunteering to schlep people all over town. I appreciate that people are living out their principles. I always appreciate that. But the apparatus and performance that creates it, that was harder for me to deal with. The invisibility of privilege, the lack of connection between, perhaps, the School of the Americas and torturous practices within U.S. prisons. Heck, people are being carted off to jail, it's not that hard to make the logical leap, that might make this all a little more relevant.
On the good side, it was the biggest gathering of its kind. The procession and liturgical reading of the names of victims from various SOA graduates is undeniably powerful and respectful memorial to those who have died at the hands of this institution. I just also want to know what it will take to get it to stop, for real.
My dear pal is working her hiney off to highlight these issues, as she's been a part of the SOA Watch community for a long time. I honor her fortitude and will try to support her as best I can; I just hope there are folks within her community who will do the same.
There was a 'gun and knife' show happening in the main convention center, just feet from the protest center. Cover was $7, which dissuaded us from checking it out on principle.
-------
By 3:00pm we were on the road, I drove us from Columbus, Georgia to just outside of Greenville, South Carolina. I have to stop and comment briefly on the ubiquity of waffles in the South...it is truly impressive! I've never seen so many various houses of Waffle, local and chain, in my life. By the time I hand over the driving, I've realized that my wallet is back in Georgia.
A brief dinner and we're on the road - being falsely led to believe we're near Raleigh/Durham. Tamara and I are dropped at the car rental counter by 10:30pm, off to get hopelessly lost in Chapel Hill, eventually finding our host, who has graciously prepared an air mattress, chips, salsa, tea, and her company. My old pal Brooke Dubose, whom I met in the Bay Area when she was working for Global Exchange - it was great to see her. We're up and out by 9:30 for a meeting with a student leader at Duke by 10, and at a protest by 11:30. North Carolina is beautiful, and one of these days I'll plonk down for a digital camera and blog some of these places so you'll see what I mean. Trees that change color are not overrated. Things I didn't understand until recently.
The protest was sparsely attended, but students had spent all night making brilliant T-shirts highlighting both the abuse of worker's rights and health conditions at their privatized dining facility. On one side was a rat (who became a mascot for obviously stomach-turning reasons) with fur in the shape of a corporate logo - on the back it proclaimed, "¡Adios, ratones!" I love it.
This is as much as I have time/brain cells to report, and I'm off for Connecticut on Thursday. How many states is that? How long have I been here? I'll draw a map and scan it at some point.
Signing off from D.C.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Georgia on my mind
Tonight I get on a bus at Georgetown and drive all night with
students to Georgia, arriving in Columbus at some ungodly hour for
the commencement of the three day School of the
Americas protest.
I'm pretty excited, as I've never gotten to go to this protest,
usually due to lack of money/time/accomodations. The only irritating
thing is that the Youth/Student caucus is at the same time at the
keynote, given by one of my favorite people in this world - Elizabeth
"Betita" Martinez. She's an amazing Xicana activist who was involved
with SNCC, started the Institute for Multi-Racial Justice, and is a
prolific author - my words don't do her justice. Why am I stuck in a
different hotel, giving a workshop on media basics, instead of with
all my fellow youth/students listening to her speech? The only answer
I received to this question involved logistics and not wanting to
conflict with the benefit concert. No diss to the musicians, but
they're playing all weekend. This was the overriding decision of the
conference call of Youth/Student planners, and I must say that
indicates that we all have a lot of work to do here in
student-organization-land.
On Sunday night, we leave Fort Benning for DC, but my co-organizer
Tamara and I get dropped off in Durham, NC at some ungodly hour. That
seems to be a new theme in my life, ungodly hours. We then
participate in a rally at UNC-Chapel Hill, meet with some awesome NC
organizers, and head home from Raleigh-Durham airport.
On a side note, if you haven't heard from me in a while, it's because
MY LAPTOP DIED. Oh, yes. It's now in Memphis getting its logic board
replaced. I've managed not to freak out too much, but all my email
was downloaded onto it, so no replies from me. And I have a mild flu.
But other than that, I'm truckin'.
At some point, I'll have the brain space to write actual articles,
which was the purpose of this darn blog, but it's de/evolved into
more of a travelogue. There are worse things, right?
students to Georgia, arriving in Columbus at some ungodly hour for
the commencement of the three day School of the
Americas protest.
I'm pretty excited, as I've never gotten to go to this protest,
usually due to lack of money/time/accomodations. The only irritating
thing is that the Youth/Student caucus is at the same time at the
keynote, given by one of my favorite people in this world - Elizabeth
"Betita" Martinez. She's an amazing Xicana activist who was involved
with SNCC, started the Institute for Multi-Racial Justice, and is a
prolific author - my words don't do her justice. Why am I stuck in a
different hotel, giving a workshop on media basics, instead of with
all my fellow youth/students listening to her speech? The only answer
I received to this question involved logistics and not wanting to
conflict with the benefit concert. No diss to the musicians, but
they're playing all weekend. This was the overriding decision of the
conference call of Youth/Student planners, and I must say that
indicates that we all have a lot of work to do here in
student-organization-land.
On Sunday night, we leave Fort Benning for DC, but my co-organizer
Tamara and I get dropped off in Durham, NC at some ungodly hour. That
seems to be a new theme in my life, ungodly hours. We then
participate in a rally at UNC-Chapel Hill, meet with some awesome NC
organizers, and head home from Raleigh-Durham airport.
On a side note, if you haven't heard from me in a while, it's because
MY LAPTOP DIED. Oh, yes. It's now in Memphis getting its logic board
replaced. I've managed not to freak out too much, but all my email
was downloaded onto it, so no replies from me. And I have a mild flu.
But other than that, I'm truckin'.
At some point, I'll have the brain space to write actual articles,
which was the purpose of this darn blog, but it's de/evolved into
more of a travelogue. There are worse things, right?
Monday, November 15, 2004
old virginny
Back from Boston, and off to the University of Virginia where the USAS (United Students Against Sweatshops) mid-Atlantic regional conference gathered for a weekend of being SASsy. Heh.
One final note about Boston: If you don't know what intersection you're at, Bostonian city planners have decided that you don't deserve to be there. Yep, even my hosts were quick to comment that practically every major thoroughfare is totally unmarked. I also found that true for Woostah - I mean, Worcester. What's up, Massachussets? This made for plenty of hi-larious driving misadventures.
After a little R&R, in which my laptop unceremoniously died (apparently a recall-worthy issue with the particular variety of iBook G4 I have), I set out on another road trip with my USAS comrade Allie and our pal Becky from American Rights at Work.
Armed with nothing but what I'd succeeded in printing out before the laptop death, I made the best of it. What Virginia had to offer was:
* Massive stop-and-go traffic until Charlotsville
* Many orange-clad football enthusiasts
* Awesome student organizers
* A freshly-refurbished anarchist art space in which to crash, replete with vegan baked goods
* An ROTC building for our retreat. No, really! Like, leave the room, see a ceremonial cannon pointed at you! Pictures of camoflagued gun-toting students not smiling for the camera at 4am or in some other ungodly circumstance.
* Very nice LGBT Unitarians having a movie night
That's really all I can tell you. The rest has been sealed. Well, and the part where it's bedtime.
One final note about Boston: If you don't know what intersection you're at, Bostonian city planners have decided that you don't deserve to be there. Yep, even my hosts were quick to comment that practically every major thoroughfare is totally unmarked. I also found that true for Woostah - I mean, Worcester. What's up, Massachussets? This made for plenty of hi-larious driving misadventures.
After a little R&R, in which my laptop unceremoniously died (apparently a recall-worthy issue with the particular variety of iBook G4 I have), I set out on another road trip with my USAS comrade Allie and our pal Becky from American Rights at Work.
Armed with nothing but what I'd succeeded in printing out before the laptop death, I made the best of it. What Virginia had to offer was:
* Massive stop-and-go traffic until Charlotsville
* Many orange-clad football enthusiasts
* Awesome student organizers
* A freshly-refurbished anarchist art space in which to crash, replete with vegan baked goods
* An ROTC building for our retreat. No, really! Like, leave the room, see a ceremonial cannon pointed at you! Pictures of camoflagued gun-toting students not smiling for the camera at 4am or in some other ungodly circumstance.
* Very nice LGBT Unitarians having a movie night
That's really all I can tell you. The rest has been sealed. Well, and the part where it's bedtime.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
sports, angst and snow
Day one of my self-organized two-day campus tour. I meet with a group and a recent grad student, all of whom are really nice folks and interested in what we’re working on. I met with the local JWJ/SLAP coordinator here, and we have the collective rant about the elections that’s really becoming more of a greeting than a rant. “Hi, can you believe over half the people in this country hate gay people more than they want health care?” Is basically how we’re all starting conversations these days. The very awesome grad student - who, coincidentally, had worked with USAS as an undergrad - was telling me about the moment of group angst after Kerry’s concession at Fanual Hall. “I was there,” she recounted, and I thought of how I started the conversation at the Brewster spiritual espresso parlor. “Nobody wanted to move. We just stayed there in the area, under 4:30 am, until they turned the lights out on us and the security guards had to tell us to leave. It was like, ‘if I don’t leave, then I don’t have to believe what just happened.’”
I said what I usually say, which is that I would’ve liked a riot - well, not the part where people hurt each other or the cops shoot someone, but you know. But only the Red Sox can get a riot in this town.
Speaking of which, my Number One Question for my hosts is whether now that the Sox have won there will be a collective identity crisis among Bostonians. Everyone replies in a sort of hushed tone that, yes, they suspect people won’t be sure of what to do with themselves next year. People aren’t quick with this analysis until I relay that I’m a second-generation Cubs fan, and they recognize the solidarity immediately. That’s as manly as I get, by the way. I suggested to my fellow organizer that Sox fans take on a love for the radical Left in the US, but I suppose that’s a far too cynical thing for me to say. Even I have snarky moments.
So back to my day. I dropped the nice grad student off at her friend’s, and immediately upon getting somewhat hopelessly lost on my way back to Jamaica Plain, I saw snowflakes hit my windshield. Snowflakes!! It was 65º (F) yesterday, and I’m suddenly beginning to realize that those numbers mean something to people, because in the rest of the world, they fluctuate wildly from day to day! And my long underwear is a plane trip away.
Another thing I learned about this “weather” business - metal nose-rings conduct the cold right into yer schnoz. Perhaps this is why San Francisco is the capitol of obscure body piercings and not, say, Wisconsin.
OK, that was the last of my brain cell allotment for today - stay tuned!
I said what I usually say, which is that I would’ve liked a riot - well, not the part where people hurt each other or the cops shoot someone, but you know. But only the Red Sox can get a riot in this town.
Speaking of which, my Number One Question for my hosts is whether now that the Sox have won there will be a collective identity crisis among Bostonians. Everyone replies in a sort of hushed tone that, yes, they suspect people won’t be sure of what to do with themselves next year. People aren’t quick with this analysis until I relay that I’m a second-generation Cubs fan, and they recognize the solidarity immediately. That’s as manly as I get, by the way. I suggested to my fellow organizer that Sox fans take on a love for the radical Left in the US, but I suppose that’s a far too cynical thing for me to say. Even I have snarky moments.
So back to my day. I dropped the nice grad student off at her friend’s, and immediately upon getting somewhat hopelessly lost on my way back to Jamaica Plain, I saw snowflakes hit my windshield. Snowflakes!! It was 65º (F) yesterday, and I’m suddenly beginning to realize that those numbers mean something to people, because in the rest of the world, they fluctuate wildly from day to day! And my long underwear is a plane trip away.
Another thing I learned about this “weather” business - metal nose-rings conduct the cold right into yer schnoz. Perhaps this is why San Francisco is the capitol of obscure body piercings and not, say, Wisconsin.
OK, that was the last of my brain cell allotment for today - stay tuned!
Monday, November 08, 2004
max in beantown
Hey folks,
When last we spoke, I was in Ohio, having a great community-youth-organizing adventure that ended in crushing defeat. Since then, I went back to DC for two days, go on a plane, and arrived in Boston - about two hours after I’d planned, but ya know.
I drove down that night to Cape Cod, Brewster, to be specific, where I plonked down at a motel at 2am. The next day was my friends Derek and Patrick’s wedding, one of the best weddings I’ve been to. Not that I’m a big wedding-goer, and my pal Mary & Catherine’s wedding in Louisville a month ago was also lovely.
Here I was on the Cape, at a Big Gay Wedding. Everything was really sweet - Derek and Patrick and their Best People in tuxes, I felt quite underdressed. But before the wedding I got a chance to check out the town of Brewster, which was really charming, and not in a “I’m supposed to be charming to you, I’m a tourist town” sort of way. Having grown up in tourist towns, I’m quite sensitive to the dynamics of being obliged to cater to people with more money than, say, everyone in your town.
As I was driving to find the one advertised “vegetarian-friendly” dining establishment in Brewster, I passed a sign - actually, several signs linked to each other, which said:
“Herbs
Crystals - stones
Espresso
internet”
It was all I could do not to screech the car to a halt. Instead I made my way to the sandwich shop, ate a lovely Portobello mushroom on ciabatta, drank a Nantucket juice, and wondered whether there really was a company in Nantucket or whether it’s all a marketing campaign, and contemplated asking a local and set off to explore Herbs - Crystals - Espresso - Internet.
The gravel driveway made it look like it was two buildings, but sure enough, it was your one-stop-recentering & connecting shop. I wandered in and was greeted by a nice young woman who looked like a variety of nice young women I’ve met in such establishments in California, but here we were in Cape Cod. She directed me to an ethernet cable and there I was, checking my email in a sort of undeveloped area of the shop with a dusty copy machine and a coffeetable.
A friendly older woman with short hair was chatting with the store worker about politics, and I couldn’t help but join in. “I was in Ohio on Tuesday” I said emphatically, after hearing them bemoan the outcome. Not to be a human cliché, but being in an herb-crystal-espresso bar made me relaxed in the first place, but being in an explicitly Lefty one was a tiny and weird piece of heaven. My homesickness waned. We talked a while, while I racked up .15-a-minute charges for my web-browsing. But my favorite part was that totally unremarkable-looking middle-class older white Cape Cod folks kept wandering into the store, purchasing this or that herbal concoction, which the young woman promptly whipped up from the many shelves of herb-jars, all while we were talking politics. I had to make a bee-line fore the wedding across the street, so I went to settle up and noticed that nestled among the crystallized ginger, stone-bead-bracelets and whatnot, were copies of “A People’s History of the United States." How about that? Can’t beat it.
After the wedding, we late-night revelers made the intrepid journey to Provincetown. It was my first time in P-Town, I’d only heard references and seen panels about it from Dykes to Watch Out For. I wasn’t really sure I’d ever go there, I have such little occassion to be in Boston and have access to a car and three hours both ways to kill. We went to a dance club and I hung around with the fellas for a while, and called it a night within two hours. There were definitely some cute guys, but for the most part people either danced or stood around and watched people dancing. It was a little reminiscent of junior high school. I’ll definitely give P-Town another shot, during the summer, though.
This morning, however, I woke up with exactly enough time to make the 11:00 check-out, swing by my new favorite Brewster, MA internet spot, go to the whole foods store that I’d been tipped off to by the boys, and make my way to a State Park for a few hours of not working. Since I took this job, there have not been so many of the not-working hours. While I was enjoying a moment of nature-filled solitude by a lake, I got a cell phone call - ironically, my reception was better by a secluded lake than in my hotel room - that I would have a place to stay for the next few days. Thank you, Jackie Downing! So I made my way two hours north to a raucus queer kick-ball game already in progress, and the rest is history.
I soon discovered that one of the folks I was supposed to be meeting with while I was here is the room-mate of my Boston host. Small world, indeed!
OK, to bed with me.
When last we spoke, I was in Ohio, having a great community-youth-organizing adventure that ended in crushing defeat. Since then, I went back to DC for two days, go on a plane, and arrived in Boston - about two hours after I’d planned, but ya know.
I drove down that night to Cape Cod, Brewster, to be specific, where I plonked down at a motel at 2am. The next day was my friends Derek and Patrick’s wedding, one of the best weddings I’ve been to. Not that I’m a big wedding-goer, and my pal Mary & Catherine’s wedding in Louisville a month ago was also lovely.
Here I was on the Cape, at a Big Gay Wedding. Everything was really sweet - Derek and Patrick and their Best People in tuxes, I felt quite underdressed. But before the wedding I got a chance to check out the town of Brewster, which was really charming, and not in a “I’m supposed to be charming to you, I’m a tourist town” sort of way. Having grown up in tourist towns, I’m quite sensitive to the dynamics of being obliged to cater to people with more money than, say, everyone in your town.
As I was driving to find the one advertised “vegetarian-friendly” dining establishment in Brewster, I passed a sign - actually, several signs linked to each other, which said:
“Herbs
Crystals - stones
Espresso
internet”
It was all I could do not to screech the car to a halt. Instead I made my way to the sandwich shop, ate a lovely Portobello mushroom on ciabatta, drank a Nantucket juice, and wondered whether there really was a company in Nantucket or whether it’s all a marketing campaign, and contemplated asking a local and set off to explore Herbs - Crystals - Espresso - Internet.
The gravel driveway made it look like it was two buildings, but sure enough, it was your one-stop-recentering & connecting shop. I wandered in and was greeted by a nice young woman who looked like a variety of nice young women I’ve met in such establishments in California, but here we were in Cape Cod. She directed me to an ethernet cable and there I was, checking my email in a sort of undeveloped area of the shop with a dusty copy machine and a coffeetable.
A friendly older woman with short hair was chatting with the store worker about politics, and I couldn’t help but join in. “I was in Ohio on Tuesday” I said emphatically, after hearing them bemoan the outcome. Not to be a human cliché, but being in an herb-crystal-espresso bar made me relaxed in the first place, but being in an explicitly Lefty one was a tiny and weird piece of heaven. My homesickness waned. We talked a while, while I racked up .15-a-minute charges for my web-browsing. But my favorite part was that totally unremarkable-looking middle-class older white Cape Cod folks kept wandering into the store, purchasing this or that herbal concoction, which the young woman promptly whipped up from the many shelves of herb-jars, all while we were talking politics. I had to make a bee-line fore the wedding across the street, so I went to settle up and noticed that nestled among the crystallized ginger, stone-bead-bracelets and whatnot, were copies of “A People’s History of the United States." How about that? Can’t beat it.
After the wedding, we late-night revelers made the intrepid journey to Provincetown. It was my first time in P-Town, I’d only heard references and seen panels about it from Dykes to Watch Out For. I wasn’t really sure I’d ever go there, I have such little occassion to be in Boston and have access to a car and three hours both ways to kill. We went to a dance club and I hung around with the fellas for a while, and called it a night within two hours. There were definitely some cute guys, but for the most part people either danced or stood around and watched people dancing. It was a little reminiscent of junior high school. I’ll definitely give P-Town another shot, during the summer, though.
This morning, however, I woke up with exactly enough time to make the 11:00 check-out, swing by my new favorite Brewster, MA internet spot, go to the whole foods store that I’d been tipped off to by the boys, and make my way to a State Park for a few hours of not working. Since I took this job, there have not been so many of the not-working hours. While I was enjoying a moment of nature-filled solitude by a lake, I got a cell phone call - ironically, my reception was better by a secluded lake than in my hotel room - that I would have a place to stay for the next few days. Thank you, Jackie Downing! So I made my way two hours north to a raucus queer kick-ball game already in progress, and the rest is history.
I soon discovered that one of the folks I was supposed to be meeting with while I was here is the room-mate of my Boston host. Small world, indeed!
OK, to bed with me.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
four more years of fascism
Thanks to just slightly more than half this country. Ah, well, at least we can work with the other half.
Well, this sucked. But my mom gave me a t-shirt as a parting present that says "Remember, no matter who you vote for, the government will get in." That's the truth. Not that I'm an orthodox anarchist, but it's definitely the point here.
So today we drove back from Ohio, my phone had died early evening last night, so if you're waiting on a call back from me, it's coming. When I checked my messages just now, my pal Nicole had called me to ask what we do next. I called back and said, "Fight! Fight like we always have, like we were going to have to anyway."
I'm so glad the framing of this is "it's good moral values to hate queers and want to control women's lives, and gosh, the Dems should've thought of that." Not, say, "gee, over half this country wants us to be an evangelical christian state, in direct contradiction to the Constitution, as problematic a document as that was in its first incarnation." Or perhaps the irony of the party of "No Big Government" wanting to control the minutia of my personal sex life, and the reproductive activities of many.
There will be blaming. I think the Dems picked a particularly uncharismatic ruling-class dude to run. I also think they fold early because that's all they seem to know how to do - conciliate.
I also think that Republican operatives in the state of Ohio calling people and telling them incorrect locations of their polls, and giving voters in predominantly African-American districts fake ballots and having people "vote on the spot" is part of the very problem.
In Columbus, it was raining. As I emphasized to the somewhat distractible but stalwart van's worth of High School students, all political analysts know that when it rains, Dems stay in and Republicans trot out and vote anyway (except in SF - represent!). While there was huge voter turnout, and 90% of the Ohioans I spoke with that day had already voted, I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't help. I said to them, "Yes, knocking doors of empty houses sucks. Yes, being rained on sucks. But those things don't suck as much as four more years of Bush." Alas, now we get to find out exactly how much that is, barring force majure.
I came back to DC and wanted to see riots, but instead saw traffic. I got another call from my pal Cathy, who'd spent the last two months in Columbus - she got a call from our people in the Bay, rowdy and in the streets of the Mission. If that don't make ya homesick, I don't know what will.
Hang in there, folks, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
Well, this sucked. But my mom gave me a t-shirt as a parting present that says "Remember, no matter who you vote for, the government will get in." That's the truth. Not that I'm an orthodox anarchist, but it's definitely the point here.
So today we drove back from Ohio, my phone had died early evening last night, so if you're waiting on a call back from me, it's coming. When I checked my messages just now, my pal Nicole had called me to ask what we do next. I called back and said, "Fight! Fight like we always have, like we were going to have to anyway."
I'm so glad the framing of this is "it's good moral values to hate queers and want to control women's lives, and gosh, the Dems should've thought of that." Not, say, "gee, over half this country wants us to be an evangelical christian state, in direct contradiction to the Constitution, as problematic a document as that was in its first incarnation." Or perhaps the irony of the party of "No Big Government" wanting to control the minutia of my personal sex life, and the reproductive activities of many.
There will be blaming. I think the Dems picked a particularly uncharismatic ruling-class dude to run. I also think they fold early because that's all they seem to know how to do - conciliate.
I also think that Republican operatives in the state of Ohio calling people and telling them incorrect locations of their polls, and giving voters in predominantly African-American districts fake ballots and having people "vote on the spot" is part of the very problem.
In Columbus, it was raining. As I emphasized to the somewhat distractible but stalwart van's worth of High School students, all political analysts know that when it rains, Dems stay in and Republicans trot out and vote anyway (except in SF - represent!). While there was huge voter turnout, and 90% of the Ohioans I spoke with that day had already voted, I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't help. I said to them, "Yes, knocking doors of empty houses sucks. Yes, being rained on sucks. But those things don't suck as much as four more years of Bush." Alas, now we get to find out exactly how much that is, barring force majure.
I came back to DC and wanted to see riots, but instead saw traffic. I got another call from my pal Cathy, who'd spent the last two months in Columbus - she got a call from our people in the Bay, rowdy and in the streets of the Mission. If that don't make ya homesick, I don't know what will.
Hang in there, folks, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
November 2
So here I am, in Columbus Ohio. Me and Mr. Bush, together at last. I woke up on the floor of my pal Cathy Rion's room, at 5:15 am, a whopping 3 hours after my head hit the pillow. I had a pillow, that was great!
But let me back up. My intrepid co-workers and I sallied forth in a rental car, with only a 45-minute delay, to Columbus. I met my pal Cathy after we met with a student from OSU, and she convinced me to part company with said co-workers and stay to help in Columbus. It's pretty awesome that I did, not because of being far from them, but becasue I got to spend my day with high school students from Columbus door-knocking in various neighborhoods. Between that and the near ear-shattering hip-hop in between precincts, ya can't beat it.
We got in by 11, I was out with Cathy and a crew of folks dropping Young Voter Alliance literature until 1:30 am. So far, so good. I even got in a shower.
Off to the Hertz, where we rented big vans to haul the students around in, and I was nominated a driver. After a brief tussle with Hertz policy around debit cards vs. credit cards, we were off and running.
It started raining. I had to get creative with the pep talks, but despite the grumbling, the students were faithfully knocking every door we could find.
Three rounds later, it's dark and we're slogging through the rain. We found a single potential voter who wasn't planning on going out, and contrary to our script, my comrade entreated him for 15 minutes. He was somewhat closer to putting his shoes back on and forging forth, at least I'd like to think so.
After yet another tri-level apartment complex with slippery metal stairs, well, I slipped. No terrible injuries, just a sore butt. We decided to call it a night and get pizza, Kerry leading by 1 point in Ohio, 15 minutes till polls closing. Even the few visible Bush voters I encountered - all young white men - seemed moved by our willingness to stick it out in our torn plastic parkas and wilting doorhangers.
I think Cathy is out giving cookies to remaining voters in line at the polls...I await a well-earned small vegan pizza from next door and try to understand conversation during the same five songs we've heard all day.
I love young people. There is no sarcasm about that. I don't think I could've made it out without the amazing crew of East High whippersnappers to brighten up my day.
I also love Ohio-ans, these people trucked out and VOTED, bless their hearts!
OK, all for now, time to see if the exit poll sites are still so flooded that I can't get them to load ;)
But let me back up. My intrepid co-workers and I sallied forth in a rental car, with only a 45-minute delay, to Columbus. I met my pal Cathy after we met with a student from OSU, and she convinced me to part company with said co-workers and stay to help in Columbus. It's pretty awesome that I did, not because of being far from them, but becasue I got to spend my day with high school students from Columbus door-knocking in various neighborhoods. Between that and the near ear-shattering hip-hop in between precincts, ya can't beat it.
We got in by 11, I was out with Cathy and a crew of folks dropping Young Voter Alliance literature until 1:30 am. So far, so good. I even got in a shower.
Off to the Hertz, where we rented big vans to haul the students around in, and I was nominated a driver. After a brief tussle with Hertz policy around debit cards vs. credit cards, we were off and running.
It started raining. I had to get creative with the pep talks, but despite the grumbling, the students were faithfully knocking every door we could find.
Three rounds later, it's dark and we're slogging through the rain. We found a single potential voter who wasn't planning on going out, and contrary to our script, my comrade entreated him for 15 minutes. He was somewhat closer to putting his shoes back on and forging forth, at least I'd like to think so.
After yet another tri-level apartment complex with slippery metal stairs, well, I slipped. No terrible injuries, just a sore butt. We decided to call it a night and get pizza, Kerry leading by 1 point in Ohio, 15 minutes till polls closing. Even the few visible Bush voters I encountered - all young white men - seemed moved by our willingness to stick it out in our torn plastic parkas and wilting doorhangers.
I think Cathy is out giving cookies to remaining voters in line at the polls...I await a well-earned small vegan pizza from next door and try to understand conversation during the same five songs we've heard all day.
I love young people. There is no sarcasm about that. I don't think I could've made it out without the amazing crew of East High whippersnappers to brighten up my day.
I also love Ohio-ans, these people trucked out and VOTED, bless their hearts!
OK, all for now, time to see if the exit poll sites are still so flooded that I can't get them to load ;)
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Hit the ground running
Hey folks,
Last Friday I arrived to the infamous Dulles airport with 3 checked bags and a carry-on. Much to my dismay, Elly wasn't able to procure a car and I got a shuttle to my new place. It was all terribly surreal, and late, and I was pretty hungry and cranky by the time I actually made it here - but Elly had food waiting, and eventually we walked down to U St to get me some late-night Ethiopian food. Yay!
I have to report that I have yet to eat at Ben's Chili Bowl - I think I'm saving that for a rainy...oh wait, it *is* raining here.
So this is my wee bit of luxury time in between work reading to post, since I start work on Monday, spent the better part of my weekend not doing much unpacking (because my stuff hadn't yet arrived), shopping for a first round of groceries, and hanging out at Elly's family's house waiting to borrow her dad's minivan for a bookshelf-purchasing adventure.
USAS should be a good time...we're working on the campaign strategy, I'm getting up to speed and was immediately employed by fixing a variety of netowrking and printing problems with their office. I got them running, and the next day the netowrk collapsed again so it was all undone. It's still amazing to me that I get to learn about organizing and labor and work with student movement folks as a job. Whee!
I'm working from home while the Postal Service and UPS deliver the bulk of my worldly possessions. Home is a nice studio that Elly landed us, a block from the Metro in NW off of Georgia Ave., and apparently the Green Line is where it's happenin' in terms of activist stuff around here.
Last Friday I arrived to the infamous Dulles airport with 3 checked bags and a carry-on. Much to my dismay, Elly wasn't able to procure a car and I got a shuttle to my new place. It was all terribly surreal, and late, and I was pretty hungry and cranky by the time I actually made it here - but Elly had food waiting, and eventually we walked down to U St to get me some late-night Ethiopian food. Yay!
I have to report that I have yet to eat at Ben's Chili Bowl - I think I'm saving that for a rainy...oh wait, it *is* raining here.
So this is my wee bit of luxury time in between work reading to post, since I start work on Monday, spent the better part of my weekend not doing much unpacking (because my stuff hadn't yet arrived), shopping for a first round of groceries, and hanging out at Elly's family's house waiting to borrow her dad's minivan for a bookshelf-purchasing adventure.
USAS should be a good time...we're working on the campaign strategy, I'm getting up to speed and was immediately employed by fixing a variety of netowrking and printing problems with their office. I got them running, and the next day the netowrk collapsed again so it was all undone. It's still amazing to me that I get to learn about organizing and labor and work with student movement folks as a job. Whee!
I'm working from home while the Postal Service and UPS deliver the bulk of my worldly possessions. Home is a nice studio that Elly landed us, a block from the Metro in NW off of Georgia Ave., and apparently the Green Line is where it's happenin' in terms of activist stuff around here.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
how this all came about, the moving to DC part
Hi lovely peoples,
Here's the story. Elly finishes school and moves out to California, claiming to be here for at least a year. In DC, she'd been volunteering with City at Peace, a theater-for-social-change group that works with youth in the DC area. She had been politicized by this group as a young person, and her sister Kate is now a participant. On her way out the door (or off the coast), City at Peace had rumbled about maybe offering her a job, perhaps Assistant Artistic Director. It needed Board approval, etc, etc, so she wasn't all that convinced they could pull it off.
She came out here, and we talked, and argued, and stressed, and got excited, and all that. But mostly we procrastinated making a decision about whether we should stay or go. A month went by, and we were thinking it was not going to be an issue...if City at Peace were to make an offer, it would have to be quick. We relaxed. The phone rang on a Friday in early September: "Hey, we have the money, the position would have to start with the school year...can you let us know by Monday?"
AHHH!
So finally I decided that Elly needed to decide this one for herself. She knew what my thoughts and concerns were, and there it was. She took the job, packed up, and was on a plane by Sept. 15th. I decided I would stay in the Bay Area until December to be able to transition out of my responsabilities here and move with some semblance of sanity; I then promptly told everyone that's waht I was doing.
During the Elly-moving-rush, my pal Molly forwarded a job announcement from United Students Against Sweatshops, for a national organizer position based in DC. I thought, "What the heck?" and worked on the application while Elly packed up things. I sent it out just at deadline, and after I didn't hear anything for three days, figured I was out of the running.
Boy was I wrong. On the last weekend Elly was in town, she and I and Mazzy were hanging out when I got a call from a 202 number and decided to take it. It was USAS, alrighty, and they wanted to interview me that Sunday. Yipes!
The next day Elly and I went to brunch, I panicked frequently, and the interview (a merciful half-hour conference call) ensued. They liked me! But how much? The hiring process was clearly at breakneck speed, they wanted someone ASAP and I was to hear that coming Friday, or so I thought. I hear then on Thursday that their committee wasn't at consensus, and perhaps I would be called for a second round, decision to be made Tuesday. Not sure whether that was a good sign, I decided the best course of action was to swim in anxiety.
Saturday I got the call - they wanted a second interview. Yipes yipes! Very little overlap in interviewers, so I basically got a second take on the job I'd done the first time. Not bad! Now that Elly was in DC, I got my own brunch and nervously waded through familiar questions. I'd hear on Monday, said one of the interviewers - a conflicting report.
Monday rolls around, and I've started mentioning to people that all this interview insanity was going down, so it wouldn't come as too much of a surprise when I announce I may have to leave this beloved Coast. I'm still not convinced I have it, far from it. The day is weird, as one of my co-workers walks out, and I'm faced at work with the proposition of taking over web admin/technical stuff, while knowing that I could be giving notice at any minute. I'm on pins and needles. No calls come in, and I'm torn between relief and disappointment.
Tuesday is here, I'm scrape-me-off-the-ceiling level of anticipation now. I'm thoroughly convinced at this point that I don't have the job, so I can relax about moving and get irritated that I haven't been formally rejected. It's 5:00 Eastern time, still no call, I breathe a big sigh. half an hour later, I'm iChatting with my pal in Ohio about her trying job as a swing state organizer when I get a 202 call. Deep breath, walk outside the office, take the call. Remain calm. Remain calm. Either way, it's good news. OHMYGAWD! They're OFFERING ME THE JOB! Holllleeeee shit! "So, can we fly you to DC this weekend?" Sure!
I walk back in and sufficiently contain myself that nobody knows for 10 minutes or so...I want to talk with Leigh, my immediate boss. I call people together to announce it, which is weird because that's what the walkout co-worker did the day before. Whooo hoo! I spend the rest of my day trying to figure out what needs to happen over the next few weeks. They want me by mid-October, and even that's a stretch.
So that Friday, I'm on a plane to DC (a red-eye with a layover, a 12-hour retreat...I managed to hang in there) and return to work Monday. The next weekend I'm off to Louisville for a wedding I'd planned on attending months ago...my ex-partner's. Off to Louisville! It was a lovely weekend. Now here we are, a week away, my goodbye party this Sunday. My life in cardboard and tape, and I'm still not entirely sure I'll get it all done. Thank the dieties for Elly, her family, her apartment, her willingness to receive my boxes; my friends who help organize it all; Mazzy and her wonderous station wagon Charlie; Leigh who has smoothed things out at my current work.
Off to DC for me!
Here's the story. Elly finishes school and moves out to California, claiming to be here for at least a year. In DC, she'd been volunteering with City at Peace, a theater-for-social-change group that works with youth in the DC area. She had been politicized by this group as a young person, and her sister Kate is now a participant. On her way out the door (or off the coast), City at Peace had rumbled about maybe offering her a job, perhaps Assistant Artistic Director. It needed Board approval, etc, etc, so she wasn't all that convinced they could pull it off.
She came out here, and we talked, and argued, and stressed, and got excited, and all that. But mostly we procrastinated making a decision about whether we should stay or go. A month went by, and we were thinking it was not going to be an issue...if City at Peace were to make an offer, it would have to be quick. We relaxed. The phone rang on a Friday in early September: "Hey, we have the money, the position would have to start with the school year...can you let us know by Monday?"
AHHH!
So finally I decided that Elly needed to decide this one for herself. She knew what my thoughts and concerns were, and there it was. She took the job, packed up, and was on a plane by Sept. 15th. I decided I would stay in the Bay Area until December to be able to transition out of my responsabilities here and move with some semblance of sanity; I then promptly told everyone that's waht I was doing.
During the Elly-moving-rush, my pal Molly forwarded a job announcement from United Students Against Sweatshops, for a national organizer position based in DC. I thought, "What the heck?" and worked on the application while Elly packed up things. I sent it out just at deadline, and after I didn't hear anything for three days, figured I was out of the running.
Boy was I wrong. On the last weekend Elly was in town, she and I and Mazzy were hanging out when I got a call from a 202 number and decided to take it. It was USAS, alrighty, and they wanted to interview me that Sunday. Yipes!
The next day Elly and I went to brunch, I panicked frequently, and the interview (a merciful half-hour conference call) ensued. They liked me! But how much? The hiring process was clearly at breakneck speed, they wanted someone ASAP and I was to hear that coming Friday, or so I thought. I hear then on Thursday that their committee wasn't at consensus, and perhaps I would be called for a second round, decision to be made Tuesday. Not sure whether that was a good sign, I decided the best course of action was to swim in anxiety.
Saturday I got the call - they wanted a second interview. Yipes yipes! Very little overlap in interviewers, so I basically got a second take on the job I'd done the first time. Not bad! Now that Elly was in DC, I got my own brunch and nervously waded through familiar questions. I'd hear on Monday, said one of the interviewers - a conflicting report.
Monday rolls around, and I've started mentioning to people that all this interview insanity was going down, so it wouldn't come as too much of a surprise when I announce I may have to leave this beloved Coast. I'm still not convinced I have it, far from it. The day is weird, as one of my co-workers walks out, and I'm faced at work with the proposition of taking over web admin/technical stuff, while knowing that I could be giving notice at any minute. I'm on pins and needles. No calls come in, and I'm torn between relief and disappointment.
Tuesday is here, I'm scrape-me-off-the-ceiling level of anticipation now. I'm thoroughly convinced at this point that I don't have the job, so I can relax about moving and get irritated that I haven't been formally rejected. It's 5:00 Eastern time, still no call, I breathe a big sigh. half an hour later, I'm iChatting with my pal in Ohio about her trying job as a swing state organizer when I get a 202 call. Deep breath, walk outside the office, take the call. Remain calm. Remain calm. Either way, it's good news. OHMYGAWD! They're OFFERING ME THE JOB! Holllleeeee shit! "So, can we fly you to DC this weekend?" Sure!
I walk back in and sufficiently contain myself that nobody knows for 10 minutes or so...I want to talk with Leigh, my immediate boss. I call people together to announce it, which is weird because that's what the walkout co-worker did the day before. Whooo hoo! I spend the rest of my day trying to figure out what needs to happen over the next few weeks. They want me by mid-October, and even that's a stretch.
So that Friday, I'm on a plane to DC (a red-eye with a layover, a 12-hour retreat...I managed to hang in there) and return to work Monday. The next weekend I'm off to Louisville for a wedding I'd planned on attending months ago...my ex-partner's. Off to Louisville! It was a lovely weekend. Now here we are, a week away, my goodbye party this Sunday. My life in cardboard and tape, and I'm still not entirely sure I'll get it all done. Thank the dieties for Elly, her family, her apartment, her willingness to receive my boxes; my friends who help organize it all; Mazzy and her wonderous station wagon Charlie; Leigh who has smoothed things out at my current work.
Off to DC for me!
The insane move of insanity.
I'm leaving for Washington D.C. In a week. A WEEK! This is a gritty, cinema verité picture of my nostrils as of a second ago, while I test the maiden voyage of my camera-phone-picture-blog fast forward to the newfangled devices of this century.
More to follow.
More to follow.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
having a moment
So folks, you may or not know that I'm leaving for the east coast later this year or early next. This is a huge thing for me, as pretty much all of my life (Ok, since past age 5), I've lived within a 3-hour driving radius of here.
I'm sorting through my stuff and getting rid of most of it. It's really emotional process...I can associate piles of sentimentality with actual stuff. The other big thing is that I realize that I'm basically in love with everyone here. OK, not like that. But I'm pretty much in love with the entirety of my political community, and it's really hard to imagine not being here. Thinking of how many people have changed my life, helped me along, and made me who I am, it makes me all snuffly and stuff.
I'm also pretty excited, because it is time to go and spend a bit of time elsewhere. Elly left earlier this week, and she's trying to find a place.
But sheesh. It's good that I'll be back in two years, cuz this is a hard place to stay away from.
I'm sorting through my stuff and getting rid of most of it. It's really emotional process...I can associate piles of sentimentality with actual stuff. The other big thing is that I realize that I'm basically in love with everyone here. OK, not like that. But I'm pretty much in love with the entirety of my political community, and it's really hard to imagine not being here. Thinking of how many people have changed my life, helped me along, and made me who I am, it makes me all snuffly and stuff.
I'm also pretty excited, because it is time to go and spend a bit of time elsewhere. Elly left earlier this week, and she's trying to find a place.
But sheesh. It's good that I'll be back in two years, cuz this is a hard place to stay away from.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
San fran-disco
Here I am, back in San Francisco...so my plan to get some work tidied up was thwarted. I arrived and immediately came down with some sort of cold/flu thing which kept me in bed all day yesterday. Ah well. So today I still feel floaty but marginally more with it. The weather is lovely today, and I don't have much to do after we get the room cleaned up...being able to walk from one end to another is useful!
So apparently the film series that I organize with my pal Melanie went really well in my absence! Hooray! We showed "The Fall of the I-Hotel", I was really bummed to have missed it. Next month we're showing "Strong Roots", about the landless workers' movement in Brazil. That should be good.
All my pals got out of jail after the court ruled that the NYPD were in contempt of court for holding people for far more than 24 hours. That ol' wacky Writ of Habeus Corpus, the courts are so particular about it! Anyhow, the NYPD faced fines of $1,000 per person held after their ruling. Huzzah!
OK, I'm still out of it, so less rambling until I can form coherent thoughts.
So apparently the film series that I organize with my pal Melanie went really well in my absence! Hooray! We showed "The Fall of the I-Hotel", I was really bummed to have missed it. Next month we're showing "Strong Roots", about the landless workers' movement in Brazil. That should be good.
All my pals got out of jail after the court ruled that the NYPD were in contempt of court for holding people for far more than 24 hours. That ol' wacky Writ of Habeus Corpus, the courts are so particular about it! Anyhow, the NYPD faced fines of $1,000 per person held after their ruling. Huzzah!
OK, I'm still out of it, so less rambling until I can form coherent thoughts.
Friday, September 03, 2004
My last day in NYC
Sorry for the lapse in updates...yesterday I was mostly packing and heading through the subway to my flight. Wahh! I want to be there tonight, the text reports keep flooding in about people disrupting BUsh's speech, staging impromptu rallies, etc. All very exciting.
Before we departed we spent the day out at the Pier 57 (some calling it "Guantanamo by the Hudson", but really, now, folks, that's dramatic). Then we left and went to Central Booking, 1000 Centre St. But were I to have been there today, I would've seen the mighty presence of André 3000, of Outkast fame. Alas! But no, instead I got to see my pal Sasha make it to the outside after an unpleasant stint. She was moved every 10 minutes or so to ensure proper sleeping conditions, kept in metal shackles on hand and feet, and given Frosted Flakes once in the morning. Before she had a chance to eat a Food not Bombs bagel, she was surrounded by reporters. Not optimal conditions for interviewing, but we take what we can get.
While going from the Pier 57 to the courthouse we walked past Ground Zero. There was a small gaggle of Arizona RNC delegates, and one of the New Yorkers in our group took the opportunity to give them a piece of his mind about their explotation of 9/11. They had their own media team, replete with tv camera, and the camera person argued that they just wanted a shot and a 'moment of silence'. Anyway, they were chased off. The squad of NYPD that watched the incident lackadaisically didn't move a muscle to defend the Arizonans.
After supporting Sasha and giving off-the-cuff interviews to local print media, it was time for Elly and I to pack up and head out. We were sad to go, and by now it was apparent that I was coming down with a cold. We just made our trains, and I got held in the interminable wait of the special security line due to my expired driver's license. During our check-in we met two wonderful ladies who had come out from Sonoma County to protest...dear to my heart, since I spent many formative years in Santa Rosa and Healdsburg. They were part of a group of mothers against the war, and affiliated with the SoCo Peace & Justice center. Yay!
Then, to the plane. The only media channels were MSNBC, Fox & CNN Headlines...yuck. A few decent reports of protest came through, I saw some of my Siafu comrades on camera (represent!) and we were even mentioned in passing on the O'Reilly Factor - as the infamous chanting, dancing people in red. Then on to coverage about good ol' Dick Cheney. No wonder I felt ill by the end of it.
By the time we were in bed, it was 4 am NYC time...a long day. The up and off to work, if a little late, this morning. Now that my nose is soundly stuffed up, I may exercise my sick time, even though my work is backed up. So if you ordered a DVD from AlterNet and are yet to get it, my apologies, but there's only one of me and 4,500 of you. And I have personal priorities...the RNC won in this particular case, as did my four days' vacation time.
¡Que viva disruption of the RNC!
Before we departed we spent the day out at the Pier 57 (some calling it "Guantanamo by the Hudson", but really, now, folks, that's dramatic). Then we left and went to Central Booking, 1000 Centre St. But were I to have been there today, I would've seen the mighty presence of André 3000, of Outkast fame. Alas! But no, instead I got to see my pal Sasha make it to the outside after an unpleasant stint. She was moved every 10 minutes or so to ensure proper sleeping conditions, kept in metal shackles on hand and feet, and given Frosted Flakes once in the morning. Before she had a chance to eat a Food not Bombs bagel, she was surrounded by reporters. Not optimal conditions for interviewing, but we take what we can get.
While going from the Pier 57 to the courthouse we walked past Ground Zero. There was a small gaggle of Arizona RNC delegates, and one of the New Yorkers in our group took the opportunity to give them a piece of his mind about their explotation of 9/11. They had their own media team, replete with tv camera, and the camera person argued that they just wanted a shot and a 'moment of silence'. Anyway, they were chased off. The squad of NYPD that watched the incident lackadaisically didn't move a muscle to defend the Arizonans.
After supporting Sasha and giving off-the-cuff interviews to local print media, it was time for Elly and I to pack up and head out. We were sad to go, and by now it was apparent that I was coming down with a cold. We just made our trains, and I got held in the interminable wait of the special security line due to my expired driver's license. During our check-in we met two wonderful ladies who had come out from Sonoma County to protest...dear to my heart, since I spent many formative years in Santa Rosa and Healdsburg. They were part of a group of mothers against the war, and affiliated with the SoCo Peace & Justice center. Yay!
Then, to the plane. The only media channels were MSNBC, Fox & CNN Headlines...yuck. A few decent reports of protest came through, I saw some of my Siafu comrades on camera (represent!) and we were even mentioned in passing on the O'Reilly Factor - as the infamous chanting, dancing people in red. Then on to coverage about good ol' Dick Cheney. No wonder I felt ill by the end of it.
By the time we were in bed, it was 4 am NYC time...a long day. The up and off to work, if a little late, this morning. Now that my nose is soundly stuffed up, I may exercise my sick time, even though my work is backed up. So if you ordered a DVD from AlterNet and are yet to get it, my apologies, but there's only one of me and 4,500 of you. And I have personal priorities...the RNC won in this particular case, as did my four days' vacation time.
¡Que viva disruption of the RNC!
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
All for one, and one for A-31
Hey folks,
So here it was, the big day! I took the morning off and ate breakfast (yay, I’m getting sick of Clif bars) with my lovely host Jenna and pal Cathy. Then, a nap, because my 10am meeting got rescheduled to 3pm, thank the sweet meeting dieties. After tending to bizarrely-placed blisters and laundering our rancid clothes, off to the streets. I’ve fully succumbed to my coffee addiction, as well.
Off to the park, off to an apartment, eating at a wonderful deli with a nice man who not only was 20 years vegetarian, but let us use the “employees only” bathroom, receiving roles, and off to go shopping at the Mall. “WTF?” you say? Yep, a mall near 34th and Broadway, from which to see the cops clearing streets and pushing shoppers around. We caught the news coverage at 5pm, and I was actually pretty impressed, even with the mainstream news.
Our small group missed the big event. 40 people got to the middle of an intersection and sat down, blocking 33rd and 5th. Hell YEAH! It’s pretty inspiring. We were meanwhile amongst lots of confused shoppers/commuters, some fellow protesters, some freaked out RNC delegates, and lots of aggro cops. They shoved some grandmas and parents on their way to chase freaked out, yet pretty obviously unaffiliated people trying to flee the scene.
The coolest thing was that even though it was apparent the NYPD had word of our plan A, they didn’t get our plan B...and *we* did.
Anyway, after finding everyone left over from the first round, we met with more folks outside the hot zone and made our way to Union Square. Things were chill there, and it was a great study in plainclothes observation. There were, at varying points, 1 plainclothes to every 3 legit protesters. Because my pals and I kept pointing them our loudly (and singing them little songs at points), they had three shift changes in our area, very funny to watch. Then the area heated up, as some riot cops snagged a person trying to go into the subway. I heared (but didn’t see) that it was one of these nasty neck-lasso thingies. So everyone int he park rushes over and starts trying to get them to back off. We pulled back and watched, the riot cops, a squad of mounted police, and a weird SUV-thingy with an automated satellite dish. We cruised around and noticed the amazingness of our comrades inside as they started a lively chant circle to draw the attention away from the hot zones. This succeeded in de-escalating, and a platoon of riot cops who had surrounded the crowd disappeared. Poof! The undercover stayed with as well.
Anyhow, it was chill, and Midnight, so we walked home and are now attempting to go to bed.
Jenna says “OK Max, time to make a sign. Fuck your blog!” Here I am, quoting her.
Yay radical librarians.
So here it was, the big day! I took the morning off and ate breakfast (yay, I’m getting sick of Clif bars) with my lovely host Jenna and pal Cathy. Then, a nap, because my 10am meeting got rescheduled to 3pm, thank the sweet meeting dieties. After tending to bizarrely-placed blisters and laundering our rancid clothes, off to the streets. I’ve fully succumbed to my coffee addiction, as well.
Off to the park, off to an apartment, eating at a wonderful deli with a nice man who not only was 20 years vegetarian, but let us use the “employees only” bathroom, receiving roles, and off to go shopping at the Mall. “WTF?” you say? Yep, a mall near 34th and Broadway, from which to see the cops clearing streets and pushing shoppers around. We caught the news coverage at 5pm, and I was actually pretty impressed, even with the mainstream news.
Our small group missed the big event. 40 people got to the middle of an intersection and sat down, blocking 33rd and 5th. Hell YEAH! It’s pretty inspiring. We were meanwhile amongst lots of confused shoppers/commuters, some fellow protesters, some freaked out RNC delegates, and lots of aggro cops. They shoved some grandmas and parents on their way to chase freaked out, yet pretty obviously unaffiliated people trying to flee the scene.
The coolest thing was that even though it was apparent the NYPD had word of our plan A, they didn’t get our plan B...and *we* did.
Anyway, after finding everyone left over from the first round, we met with more folks outside the hot zone and made our way to Union Square. Things were chill there, and it was a great study in plainclothes observation. There were, at varying points, 1 plainclothes to every 3 legit protesters. Because my pals and I kept pointing them our loudly (and singing them little songs at points), they had three shift changes in our area, very funny to watch. Then the area heated up, as some riot cops snagged a person trying to go into the subway. I heared (but didn’t see) that it was one of these nasty neck-lasso thingies. So everyone int he park rushes over and starts trying to get them to back off. We pulled back and watched, the riot cops, a squad of mounted police, and a weird SUV-thingy with an automated satellite dish. We cruised around and noticed the amazingness of our comrades inside as they started a lively chant circle to draw the attention away from the hot zones. This succeeded in de-escalating, and a platoon of riot cops who had surrounded the crowd disappeared. Poof! The undercover stayed with as well.
Anyhow, it was chill, and Midnight, so we walked home and are now attempting to go to bed.
Jenna says “OK Max, time to make a sign. Fuck your blog!” Here I am, quoting her.
Yay radical librarians.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
three's a charm
dammit, blogger ate my first attempted post accidentally.
Today was sweating, marching, sweating, marching, meeting. Not many whompings that I saw, but the Mouse Bloc, the folks who went to bug the delegates going to Broadway shows, got some whomping. Darnit.
I was temporarily veered from the information highway last night as my cell phone died. But luckily I found a nice lady at the cel phone store, and after brief negotiations and a purchase of a new, cheaper cell phone (ugh), I’m back in the loop.
So off to Central Park with 10,000 fellow picnickers, quite mellow and lovely.
Stay tuned...
Today was sweating, marching, sweating, marching, meeting. Not many whompings that I saw, but the Mouse Bloc, the folks who went to bug the delegates going to Broadway shows, got some whomping. Darnit.
I was temporarily veered from the information highway last night as my cell phone died. But luckily I found a nice lady at the cel phone store, and after brief negotiations and a purchase of a new, cheaper cell phone (ugh), I’m back in the loop.
So off to Central Park with 10,000 fellow picnickers, quite mellow and lovely.
Stay tuned...
Mmm, falafel
OK, it's bedtime. But I found $3.00 falafel! It was amazing! At this Turkish kebab place. It's the little things.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Hope meets eternally
Day two for yours truly.
Today I took subways, met, and talked, and met, and talked, and took more subways, and ate clif bars, and talked on my phone. I’m in between meetings. Perhaps I’ll go to a movie tonight with Elly’s fams.
While I was meeting, talking, and eating in the afternoon, a bunch of people protested a Starbucks. I saw them on my way to a subway... but this link will get stale. The event didn’t warrant page of its own.
Last night 264 folks riding with Critical Mass got arrested, some of them taking quite a whomping.
I like the NYC subway, the maps are readable and I no longer feel inept to deal with transfers.
The MSG area really sucks for fast vegan food, but practically everywhere else has more than I expect. No, I don’t mean monosodium glutemate.
My amazing pal Brooke Atherton arrived from her summer in Lebanon, wonderfully enough. Hooray for that!
More musings as events continue...
Today I took subways, met, and talked, and met, and talked, and took more subways, and ate clif bars, and talked on my phone. I’m in between meetings. Perhaps I’ll go to a movie tonight with Elly’s fams.
While I was meeting, talking, and eating in the afternoon, a bunch of people protested a Starbucks. I saw them on my way to a subway... but this link will get stale. The event didn’t warrant page of its own.
Last night 264 folks riding with Critical Mass got arrested, some of them taking quite a whomping.
I like the NYC subway, the maps are readable and I no longer feel inept to deal with transfers.
The MSG area really sucks for fast vegan food, but practically everywhere else has more than I expect. No, I don’t mean monosodium glutemate.
My amazing pal Brooke Atherton arrived from her summer in Lebanon, wonderfully enough. Hooray for that!
More musings as events continue...
Friday, August 27, 2004
Day 1: Still rollin'!
Hey folks,
So I have successfully
1. Napped, eaten lunch
2. Gone to an event
3. Avoided police intervention.
No, but seriously, I helped my pal table for AK Press at the Immigrant Worker's Speakout, and am now off to an event at a bookstore with Chris Crass and Maria Poblet. Should be good!
So I have successfully
1. Napped, eaten lunch
2. Gone to an event
3. Avoided police intervention.
No, but seriously, I helped my pal table for AK Press at the Immigrant Worker's Speakout, and am now off to an event at a bookstore with Chris Crass and Maria Poblet. Should be good!
MST @ the RNC in NYC
Hey Mom! I'm calling from Jail!
OK, no, not really. I've just landed in New York, and plan to put updates to this blog while I'm here. I was dismayed to realize that there were clearly not 5-6 beefy undercover dudes following me out here, so apparently I'm not one of the famous 56 anarchists. Oh well, I guess my political self-identification is too complicated for the fuzz. Or something.
Anyhow, More to come as things progress.
Yers in protest,
-Max
OK, no, not really. I've just landed in New York, and plan to put updates to this blog while I'm here. I was dismayed to realize that there were clearly not 5-6 beefy undercover dudes following me out here, so apparently I'm not one of the famous 56 anarchists. Oh well, I guess my political self-identification is too complicated for the fuzz. Or something.
Anyhow, More to come as things progress.
Yers in protest,
-Max
Friday, July 09, 2004
Agitating the Nonprofit Techies
So I'm on the listserv for nonprofit computer admins, and have been since the list started six years ago or so. A post came across it the other day, when people were discussing different kinds of databases (a big issue in nonprofit-techie-land).
Basically, this guy was making an argument that all nonprofits did the same thing, were duplicative, and could all consolidate into one major organization, as the medical industries, banks, etc. have done. A very capitalist model that claims market efficiency requires consolidation, was this guy's argument.
There were a couple of excellent responses to this, but I was feeling awfully feisty this morning and sent back the following:
The guy, to his credit, sent a very diplomatic response where he thanked us all for engaging in honest debate. My co-workers were so amused by the post I thought I'd throw it up here.
Title: "Why not just one big database?"
The real question is why are there 1.8 million US NPOs when most of the administration, physical facilities, and non-program staff are just duplicative. Answer: job insecurity. In the same way coder jobs are now moved to India while awaiting transfer to China, the unspoken fear of NPO execs is that something efficient will replace the national united way (people have heard that banks provide direct deposit now haven't they?) with what I call "Conglomericares" -- a single overarching charity -- completely eliminating the need for 1.8 million boards, fundraising programs, development directors, etc., etc., etc. with a registry of all programs and their attendant budgets.
cynical - There will be, of course, some feigned "sincere resisitance" throwing out red herring protests but in the end the donors will become savvy to the truth that there is that difference between an NPO saying it cares about its clients and the NPO actually producing that care and that care as efficiently as possible -- eg, bang for buck. -cynical
Basically, this guy was making an argument that all nonprofits did the same thing, were duplicative, and could all consolidate into one major organization, as the medical industries, banks, etc. have done. A very capitalist model that claims market efficiency requires consolidation, was this guy's argument.
There were a couple of excellent responses to this, but I was feeling awfully feisty this morning and sent back the following:
Not to be totally constructive, but...
Why not one big revolution? Instead of spending our time being human administrative stopgaps and trying to soften the blow of global capitalist economy which requires the oppression and disenfranchisement of millions to function, we work to address the fundamental issues that create the necessity of our jobs? I'd like to work myself out of mine, for one.
That way we'd need fewer databases and they could be for more useful things like making sure everyone got their basic needs met *all the time*, not when the tax shelters of corporations decide they want to fund us.
What I'm getting at is that I feel there are political and philosophical differences inherent in the arguments behind centralization and consolidation of data. I also greatly appreciate your rebuttal, Alnisa and Jenny.
Further, the very institutional structures (the US military) that created the initial infrastructure upon which our jobs depend (the internet) understood the strategic advantage of having a distributed, redundant architecture in the event of emergencies. Not necessarily efficient, nor do I agree with the US military around a lot of things, but I do agree with that.
I also strongly agree that it's nuts to assume that the people and issue areas we work on are identical. My 2¢
Yers in techitude,
-Max
The guy, to his credit, sent a very diplomatic response where he thanked us all for engaging in honest debate. My co-workers were so amused by the post I thought I'd throw it up here.
Max & mom, a tidbit
So my mom and I were discussing the Death of the Gipper and the horrendous consequent media coverage.
I said to her, "Well, I was thinking on my way up here, it's nice that they put the flags at half-mast so it's easier to BURN THEM before it's deemed contrary to the Constitution!" We laughed.
Much later she expressed how proud she was to have a kid who thought like that. It just warms my heart
I said to her, "Well, I was thinking on my way up here, it's nice that they put the flags at half-mast so it's easier to BURN THEM before it's deemed contrary to the Constitution!" We laughed.
Much later she expressed how proud she was to have a kid who thought like that. It just warms my heart
Uhm, yeah
It's been a while. Sorry readership! (Or at least, what's left of you)
What's on my mind these days are:
More soon...
What's on my mind these days are:
- Elly's return - this weekend we make many decisions about where to go next;
- Self-help books to combat my depression around the breakup - I just finished Learned Optimism, which, while being super-dated and from a very particular perspective, is a book that made me think quite a bit about the uncanny parallels between successful life insurance salespeople and successful grassroots organizers; the amazing Harmony Goldberg recommended Pema Chodron's "When Things Fall Apart" (no, not the book by Chinua Achebe) which I was reading until I left it in Elly's mother's minivan on the way back from Oregon. I await its return...anyhow. The Learned Optimism book comes with a test of optimism and pessimism that I am now inflicting upon my friends;
- How I don't post to my blog often enough.
More soon...
Friday, May 14, 2004
it's my birthday tomorrow
and I realized I hadn't posted in a while.
post-5 year-breakups can do that.
But it's been an eventful week! The kickoff of the film series went well, with approximately 75 people in attendance. We raised $250 for the Day Labor Program. The next one should be even bigger, and the space and El Rio are great.
The panel also went well, and Renee Saucedo showered praise on the Childcare Collective, which wasn’t solicited but always nice to hear. Go us!
Then there was an emergency action for CISPES because the leaders of the healthcare workers’ union down there are in jail and have been for weeks after a peaceful protest. Originally charged with terrorism, the charges have been dropped but constant appeals keep them in police custody. Read more about this on the CISPES website.
So we had a protest at San Francisco’s Salvadoran Consulate, and re-enacted the protest where Ricardo Monge and Javier Ayala were arrested.
In fact, as I look over indymedia, I realize that I’ve made it out to quite a few events. HeadsUp did security for the May 1st march and I was there for it, and I went to the vigil posted on the page. Well!
OK, all for now.
post-5 year-breakups can do that.
But it's been an eventful week! The kickoff of the film series went well, with approximately 75 people in attendance. We raised $250 for the Day Labor Program. The next one should be even bigger, and the space and El Rio are great.
The panel also went well, and Renee Saucedo showered praise on the Childcare Collective, which wasn’t solicited but always nice to hear. Go us!
Then there was an emergency action for CISPES because the leaders of the healthcare workers’ union down there are in jail and have been for weeks after a peaceful protest. Originally charged with terrorism, the charges have been dropped but constant appeals keep them in police custody. Read more about this on the CISPES website.
So we had a protest at San Francisco’s Salvadoran Consulate, and re-enacted the protest where Ricardo Monge and Javier Ayala were arrested.
In fact, as I look over indymedia, I realize that I’ve made it out to quite a few events. HeadsUp did security for the May 1st march and I was there for it, and I went to the vigil posted on the page. Well!
OK, all for now.
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
in other news
What does my life look like right now?
I'm trying to figure that out.
Yep, that's enough. Plus the post below.
But my friends just had a baby, and that's the MOST exciting thing EVER. EVER!!!
Yers,
-Max
I'm trying to figure that out.
- I'm coordinating a panel for the current Challenging White Supremacy workshop, next week. Yipes!
- I'm working on a radical film series at El Rio bar with my compa, Melanie. 1st one is The Revolution will Not Be Televised, and a fundraiser for the San Francisco Day Labor Program. Should be fun! C'mon down! Thursday May 11th, 8pm...
- More reportbacks about El Salvador, this one's in Oakland on Wednesday May 19th. Write me if you want to go!
- Childcare Collective, HeadsUp, lotsa parties in the next few weeks. My birthday is comin' up, May 14th, but I think there are so many events it's hard to plan a party. Stay tuned.
Yep, that's enough. Plus the post below.
But my friends just had a baby, and that's the MOST exciting thing EVER. EVER!!!
Yers,
-Max
absinthe makes the heart grow fonder
So, fellow humans and audience members, I've been slogging through the relatively unceremonious dissolution of my five-year relationship with Mazzy. It is sad, it is confusing, it is unexpected. We will figure out how to be friends, and are very civil and checking-in-ful. It still sucks. I understand why this came about (after many conversations); I don't agree with parts of *how*, but ultimately I hope it makes Mazzy and I be better people.
I think that's all I can say about it right now.
I think that's all I can say about it right now.
Friday, April 16, 2004
on the air
That's right! Yours truly, along with my amazing comrades Cora, Yeni, y Susan give a brief interview as a part of the Radio Olín show on KPFA tomorrow night. Tune in tomorrow, 4/16/04 at 8:00pm at www.kpfa.org to hear about our analysis and observations during the recent presidential elections in El Salvador.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Back from El Salvador
Hey folks,
It's been a while, hey? So I went to El Salvador to observe the presidential elections, that happened on March 21. For information about this, check out the CISPES website.
I have many pictures to post. Yay! I am also planning a reportback, so if you're in the Bay Area, maybe you can go! That would be neat.
The trip was amazing. I was only there for two weeks, but it was a huge wake-up call, and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to CISPES, my comrades, and the Salvadorans who were kind enough to host and teach us.
Things that were mightily impressed upon me:
So these and other thoughts are what I'm chewing on in my brain at the moment. Upon my return I felt like large parts of the US left were about as relevant as a popsicle stand in Antarctica, and I haven't quite shaken that feeling yet. It was nice to be learning from and around people who had clearly prioritized meeting the basic needs of the people: food, housing, healthcare, education, wages/right to organize/labor struggles, women's rights.
Other trip highlights: we got to meet with some amazing labor leaders, we went to the site of Archbishop Oscar Romero's assasination and participated in the annual march in honor of his life on the anniversary of his death.
We met with representatives at the U.S. Embassy - a veritable fortress to behold. They told us useful things, like that they were desperately trying to dispel the myth that the US would change immigration policy towards Salvadorans in the US or that remittances would stop if the Frente won, but to no avail. Given the historical precendent of power the US and our Embassy have held in El Salvador, our delegation found this somewhat hard to believe. During this visit, a fellow from USAID in the economics bureau informed us -- with a straight face, no less -- that he was helping Salvadorans prepare for economic competition [read: devastation] that would be wrought with the implementation of CAFTA by, I kid you not, a direct quote: exporting pupusas. The pupusa is a revered Salvadoran food, it's kind of like a stuffed tortilla, usually filled with cheese, beans & cheese, or ground meat. They're notoriously best right off the griddle, and owing to the fact that there are 2 million Salvadorans in the U.S. already, you yourself could possibly encounter them in person. Which is part of the ridiculousness of the pupusa-export economy: within a 2-block radius of my house, I can find a total of FOUR pupuserias. Where there are Salvadorans, there are pupuserias. I sincerely doubt the willingness of Salvadorans in the U.S. to purchase, defrost, and consume vast quantities of imported pupusas, nor will that shore up the great economic divide between El Salvador and one of the largest economies IN THE WORLD. *I* don't need an economics degree to tell you that. You don't need one to believe me! Yet our tax dollars employ people who spend their days trying to convince us that this ludicrous statement is sound economic policy! No, really! Sound! Economic! Policy! OK, calming down now.
No, CAFTA will do exactly what it intends to: privatize all of El Salvador's remaining public services and contract them to US corporations; expand the already formidable maquilladora sector (to get a sense of what this is like, if you don't already know, check out a report on a maquilla called Copatex in El Salvador by the National Labor Committee, where labor rights are constantly violated and these are often synonymous with women's rights, as maquilla workers are disproportionately women (also see this Human Rights Watch report). We met with former maquilla workers who had been fired for trying to demand basic human rights or for attempting to organize in their workplaces. CAFTA will also allow corporations to SUE governments for regulations, such as ENVIRONMENTAL regulations, on the grounds that it restricts the corporations' free trade. Think I'm kidding? It's already happened. Yep, because of our dear friend NAFTA, cases like this, where a US corporation sued the government of Mexico for preventing them from reopening a toxic waste treatment facility because it would violate Mexico's environmental regulations AND WON, can occur. And CAFTA provides the same clause that allowed this NAFTA nightmare to occur.
Heavens, I'm going on! OK, maybe that's all for tonight. Pictures and more stories to follow.
Yours in blogitude,
-Max
It's been a while, hey? So I went to El Salvador to observe the presidential elections, that happened on March 21. For information about this, check out the CISPES website.
I have many pictures to post. Yay! I am also planning a reportback, so if you're in the Bay Area, maybe you can go! That would be neat.
The trip was amazing. I was only there for two weeks, but it was a huge wake-up call, and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to CISPES, my comrades, and the Salvadorans who were kind enough to host and teach us.
Things that were mightily impressed upon me:
- U.S. intervention in El Salvador still sucks mightily. Yep, it didn't end with the signing of the Peace Accords in 1992. Between the remarks of Roger Noriega, Otto Reich, and Sen. Thomas Tancredo (R - Colorado), the people of El Salvador were threatened with deportation of their relatives working in the US (2 million Salvadorans in the US presently, 6.5 Salvadorans in El Salvador iteself) if Shafik Hándal, the FMLN candidate, were to have won. They were threatened with the halt of remittances of money from relatives and friends in the US, which make 1/6th of the Salvadoran economy if the FMLN won. Not exactly the conditions for "free and fair elections", these threats were plastered on the overwhelmingly right-wing daily papers, and were advertised on the radio stations, most of whom are owned by the ARENA candidate/president-select.
- Fraud, anyone? I learned the ins and outs of how to buy and sell votes in El Salvador, including the sale of ID cards used by voters at the polls and the importation of "professional voters" from Nicaragua and Honduras. I think I'm going to draw a cartoon about that, so stay tuned. Tooned. Whatever.
- The Right wing in the U.S. knew why it was worthwhile to interevene in El Salvador's democratic processes, so why didn't the Left? Or at least, why didn't they say/do anything about it? OK, here I'm not talking about organizations who've done work in solidarity with El Salvador for years and years. Nor the dear Pacifica affiliates and Democracy Now!, who provided what little coverage the Salvadoran Elections got here outside of the Spanish-language press. But the Right knew that if Shafik were elected, the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) could have been killed once and for all, and them and their corporate buddies want to make sure that doesn't happen. CAFTA goes before US Congress in June, so learn more about it and fight it.
- La lucha continua. After all was said and done, and the polls finally came in (no matter how much fraud took place), the people of El Salvador are stuck with another five years of the ARENA government. Ugh. We in the delegation were feeling a bit downtrodden by the results, but in the province where I was an observer, the local Frente folks came and picked *us* up off the floor. Of course the struggle continues! It was good they got the percentage that we did, and now the next fight is the one against CAFTA - these are the kind of things that we heard. Not to say that people weren't also struggling and disappointed by the results, but what a refreshing and understandable perspective. One that I felt I could use more of here in the States. One I want to be able to cultivate in myself. Given the history of struggle against US imperialism in El Salvador, the amount of courage and fortitude to continue in the face of another blow is both completely necessary and amazing to me.
So these and other thoughts are what I'm chewing on in my brain at the moment. Upon my return I felt like large parts of the US left were about as relevant as a popsicle stand in Antarctica, and I haven't quite shaken that feeling yet. It was nice to be learning from and around people who had clearly prioritized meeting the basic needs of the people: food, housing, healthcare, education, wages/right to organize/labor struggles, women's rights.
Other trip highlights: we got to meet with some amazing labor leaders, we went to the site of Archbishop Oscar Romero's assasination and participated in the annual march in honor of his life on the anniversary of his death.
We met with representatives at the U.S. Embassy - a veritable fortress to behold. They told us useful things, like that they were desperately trying to dispel the myth that the US would change immigration policy towards Salvadorans in the US or that remittances would stop if the Frente won, but to no avail. Given the historical precendent of power the US and our Embassy have held in El Salvador, our delegation found this somewhat hard to believe. During this visit, a fellow from USAID in the economics bureau informed us -- with a straight face, no less -- that he was helping Salvadorans prepare for economic competition [read: devastation] that would be wrought with the implementation of CAFTA by, I kid you not, a direct quote: exporting pupusas. The pupusa is a revered Salvadoran food, it's kind of like a stuffed tortilla, usually filled with cheese, beans & cheese, or ground meat. They're notoriously best right off the griddle, and owing to the fact that there are 2 million Salvadorans in the U.S. already, you yourself could possibly encounter them in person. Which is part of the ridiculousness of the pupusa-export economy: within a 2-block radius of my house, I can find a total of FOUR pupuserias. Where there are Salvadorans, there are pupuserias. I sincerely doubt the willingness of Salvadorans in the U.S. to purchase, defrost, and consume vast quantities of imported pupusas, nor will that shore up the great economic divide between El Salvador and one of the largest economies IN THE WORLD. *I* don't need an economics degree to tell you that. You don't need one to believe me! Yet our tax dollars employ people who spend their days trying to convince us that this ludicrous statement is sound economic policy! No, really! Sound! Economic! Policy! OK, calming down now.
No, CAFTA will do exactly what it intends to: privatize all of El Salvador's remaining public services and contract them to US corporations; expand the already formidable maquilladora sector (to get a sense of what this is like, if you don't already know, check out a report on a maquilla called Copatex in El Salvador by the National Labor Committee, where labor rights are constantly violated and these are often synonymous with women's rights, as maquilla workers are disproportionately women (also see this Human Rights Watch report). We met with former maquilla workers who had been fired for trying to demand basic human rights or for attempting to organize in their workplaces. CAFTA will also allow corporations to SUE governments for regulations, such as ENVIRONMENTAL regulations, on the grounds that it restricts the corporations' free trade. Think I'm kidding? It's already happened. Yep, because of our dear friend NAFTA, cases like this, where a US corporation sued the government of Mexico for preventing them from reopening a toxic waste treatment facility because it would violate Mexico's environmental regulations AND WON, can occur. And CAFTA provides the same clause that allowed this NAFTA nightmare to occur.
Heavens, I'm going on! OK, maybe that's all for tonight. Pictures and more stories to follow.
Yours in blogitude,
-Max
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
The whole Newsom/Gay Marriage thing
My friend said it best in her post to indybay: "I Got Married but NEWSOM IS NOT MY FRIEND"
Not to be cynical, and I'm happy for all the folks fighting to resolve custody issues, have access to their partners during medical crises, etc. but I see this as a brilliant political ploy on Newsom's behalf. I have to hand it to him, it's smart. But that doesn't change his horrible oppressive stance towards low-income folks and folks of Color in SF.
More on this, but Maz just got here and it's Mazzy night. Off to see Battle of Algiers.
Not to be cynical, and I'm happy for all the folks fighting to resolve custody issues, have access to their partners during medical crises, etc. but I see this as a brilliant political ploy on Newsom's behalf. I have to hand it to him, it's smart. But that doesn't change his horrible oppressive stance towards low-income folks and folks of Color in SF.
More on this, but Maz just got here and it's Mazzy night. Off to see Battle of Algiers.
Ma vie sans le temps
Howdy blogdience!
Since last we spoke, er, you read/I wrote, a few things have happened. Not surprising since it was a month ago and everything.
Highlights:
In the forthcoming life of meester toth, I am
Enough of catching-up posts. On to other areas of my brain. I mean, I don't have a blog to make small talk with whoever will listen...
*Long story short, applying for a passport with all documentation short of the "doctor's letter" stating that permanent sex-reassignment surgery has been performed will get you one measly years' worth of passport. So I had to reapply post-surgery, even though it was good for the trip; apparently they want you to have three to six months of good passport, even if you're only going for two weeks. Did I mention I love bureaucracy? Love it! I'm thinking of constructing a sculpture out of all the pieces of paperwork being trans has brought into my life, but I don't think it'd be earthquake-safe...
Since last we spoke, er, you read/I wrote, a few things have happened. Not surprising since it was a month ago and everything.
Highlights:
- Mazzy and I had a five-year anniversary. Yay us! We're thinking about writing up a book about being a long-term polyamorous relationship. Many people ask us for advice and entreat us to write. We thought it might be fun to each write a separate advice pamphlet and see what each of us had to say (and whether they bore any resemblance whatsoever), but so far it hasn't materialized. Some day.
- I took the damned LSAT. I left, and thought to myself, "I don't really want to be a lawyer!" Whew. So much better to figure that out *before* law school. That leads to a much longer conversation about learning styles, my lifetime inability to distinguish right from left (except in politics!), and achievement issues. Maybe It'll wind up here, even.
- I met with Peta, who offered lots of wonderful advice and constructive criticism about my consent piece. Yay! I might be getting under the hood, disassembling it, and seeing what I can form into working parts. Have ideas? Wanna see it? Comment on those posts as I go, and I'll take yer advice! This will also likely result in a collective writing project about consent, which I'm excited about as well.
- Because I'm trans*, I get to reapply for my passport 18 days before I leave for El Salvador. Ugh! But I did get to see the lines of queer folk gettin' hitched at City Hall as I made my way to the Department of the Treasury.
In the forthcoming life of meester toth, I am
- Going to see Elly this weekend in DC, yay! She's also moving back to the Bay Area for a year before applying to grad schools. Whew! Takes a little pressure off the planning.
- Completely booked between now and the beginning of April, which makes scheduling time with my friends a little awkward. I'm not famous enough to be this busy, dammit.
Enough of catching-up posts. On to other areas of my brain. I mean, I don't have a blog to make small talk with whoever will listen...
*Long story short, applying for a passport with all documentation short of the "doctor's letter" stating that permanent sex-reassignment surgery has been performed will get you one measly years' worth of passport. So I had to reapply post-surgery, even though it was good for the trip; apparently they want you to have three to six months of good passport, even if you're only going for two weeks. Did I mention I love bureaucracy? Love it! I'm thinking of constructing a sculpture out of all the pieces of paperwork being trans has brought into my life, but I don't think it'd be earthquake-safe...
Sunday, January 25, 2004
ok, now I really *do* have an audience - here's some news!
So my friend Masha is awaiting future posts with baited breath, and at some point I'll make a coffeee date with you, Peta, to hear your thoughts about all this silliness.
Yipe!
So, Masha wanted the top-surgery lowdown, which she got in person. But the short notes I'll describe briefly here...
I decided to go with Dr. Ching in SF, which is pretty unconventional considering she has a pending lawsuit from a former client who had his top surgery through her. But I knew that well beforehand. I was looking for a multiple-stage process so that I could retain my nerve endings (the original set) and lessen scarring. The way I figure it, if it all goes wrong, then I'm just stuck getting a double-incision eventually, and I'm not the worse for wear. Except for the two rounds of saving inordinate amounts of money, which took me almost three years this time around.
Anyhow, here I am, a couple of months later, out of my bandages and binding-type-thingies, in pretty good shape. I can wear a baggy T-shirt and sweatshirt and it's not apparent at all that I once was a C+ cup. Yay! Upon closer examination (entering TMI land, warning), I'm a little saggy and have more tissue than I'd like, but after I work out a bit it'll look better. It's a process of taking out the bulk, waiting for my body to re-absorb what it will, and then dealing with the leftovers (I had a lot of excess skin that can't all go in one fell swoop). Someday, I believe, I'll go shirtless on a beach. It looks like that's going to be mid 2006 at this point, and that's sooner than I'd thought if you'd asked me six months ago.
I'm still a little bruise-y feeling if I push on my chest in places, so, well, I stoppped doing that. But overall I healed up like a champ. I was a little surprised at how enthusiastic my immune system was about it all, but I guess being a non-smoking, non-drinking, non-controlled-substance-using long-term vegan who exercises probably helped. But I certainly didn't count on that going into it.
In other worlds, here are the updates:
Yay! That's all the big news over here.
Yipe!
So, Masha wanted the top-surgery lowdown, which she got in person. But the short notes I'll describe briefly here...
I decided to go with Dr. Ching in SF, which is pretty unconventional considering she has a pending lawsuit from a former client who had his top surgery through her. But I knew that well beforehand. I was looking for a multiple-stage process so that I could retain my nerve endings (the original set) and lessen scarring. The way I figure it, if it all goes wrong, then I'm just stuck getting a double-incision eventually, and I'm not the worse for wear. Except for the two rounds of saving inordinate amounts of money, which took me almost three years this time around.
Anyhow, here I am, a couple of months later, out of my bandages and binding-type-thingies, in pretty good shape. I can wear a baggy T-shirt and sweatshirt and it's not apparent at all that I once was a C+ cup. Yay! Upon closer examination (entering TMI land, warning), I'm a little saggy and have more tissue than I'd like, but after I work out a bit it'll look better. It's a process of taking out the bulk, waiting for my body to re-absorb what it will, and then dealing with the leftovers (I had a lot of excess skin that can't all go in one fell swoop). Someday, I believe, I'll go shirtless on a beach. It looks like that's going to be mid 2006 at this point, and that's sooner than I'd thought if you'd asked me six months ago.
I'm still a little bruise-y feeling if I push on my chest in places, so, well, I stoppped doing that. But overall I healed up like a champ. I was a little surprised at how enthusiastic my immune system was about it all, but I guess being a non-smoking, non-drinking, non-controlled-substance-using long-term vegan who exercises probably helped. But I certainly didn't count on that going into it.
In other worlds, here are the updates:
- I'm studying to take the LSAT, so anyone who doesn't think I have masochistic tendancies stand corrected. In fact, this post will end soon because it's back to the books...after all this, I can't afford one of those class things.
- I'm growing out my facial hair, which makes me feel like a hippie. But it's amusing. Mazzy likes it; Elly will probably shave it off in my sleep if it's still there by the time she moves back to the Bay Area. My jury's still out. These are the random things I tell people.
- I got a computer. It's the first time I've purchased computer hardware for myself, which is kind of funny given that I was a sys admin for years, and have bought lots of computers as a consequence. I have a hard time justifying it to myself, but all you movement people with Mac tech support questions, bring 'em on!
- I'm going to El Salvador to be an elections observer for the upcoming Presidential elections there in March. I'm really excited about it, and will probably be pestering those near me to attend fundraisers for my comrades who are also going.
Yay! That's all the big news over here.
Saturday, January 10, 2004
stayed tuned...
for these hot items a-headed yer way!
- The Dem-party leadership's sabotage of a perfectly hopeful mayoral bid by Board of Sups Prez Gonzales; or, how I learned to stop worrying and love the Greens
- An open letter to my fellow vegans about how to be vegan without being a cultural imperialist
- A love-fest for my pals for their wonderful support of me during my recovery time
Hey kids, I'm back!
Well, I was out of commission there for a while...I was busy having and recovering from top surgery. Yay!
So my friends accidentally conspired to bring fiction back in to my life after a long, long hiatus. While I was out I read Phillip Pullmans' The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife, and they reminded me that it's good sometimes to dream of what a world *could* look like. But, per usual, mostly I've been obsessing about what can change the present one.
I've also launched headlong into reading this new book, Wrestling with Zion: Progressive Jewish-American Responses to the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Good stuff.
I don't have much useful to say at the moment, so I'll be brief. My limited knowledge of world geography is irritating me, and it's not even that bad by US education-system standards, so I'm all about maps. Maps are beautiful things.
More to follow...
So my friends accidentally conspired to bring fiction back in to my life after a long, long hiatus. While I was out I read Phillip Pullmans' The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife, and they reminded me that it's good sometimes to dream of what a world *could* look like. But, per usual, mostly I've been obsessing about what can change the present one.
I've also launched headlong into reading this new book, Wrestling with Zion: Progressive Jewish-American Responses to the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Good stuff.
I don't have much useful to say at the moment, so I'll be brief. My limited knowledge of world geography is irritating me, and it's not even that bad by US education-system standards, so I'm all about maps. Maps are beautiful things.
More to follow...
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