Saturday, February 18, 2012

A Moment In 2007 (for Heather and Christian)

Two Nineteen.
I am 27 today. And lonely. (In Maine).

On Hobson's wharf, in Becky's diner, warming my hands with half-decaf and thinking about how surreal a kind of day like this spent alone can be.
The odd years are always the best, but they start out so casual, so understated..

When I turned 21 by the end of the day I was crying. That day was supposed to be spelling my name in the sky. The day that followed instead, was much much better. And I guess that's how I'll feel tomorrow... relieved that the pressure is off.

I do currently have the best boyfriend ever. Supportive and sweet and calling me and sending messages. He is also lonely and we're a little heartsick for one another. Even as that situation won't remedy itself for another couple weeks, its still bittersweet knowing that a short few hundred miles away, someone is down with me.

The sun is so bright, it's hard for me to not want to be outside. But the wind: an icy and unforgiving witch.

I walk around town dropping off applications to everywhere I can think short of laundromats (and I might just break out the phonebook and do that later this week.)
No bites yet, but we're close. Hard to get a part-time gig in this town.

In hopes of a more positive experience with birth control and condom-free sex, I put in a "nuva ring" today. A little plastic hormone delivery system. More news on that later, I hope.

Guys to my rear rap about basketball and I think of a friend in PA with his family. Called me at the beginning of the weekend in anticipation of Monday off. Yes, today is also president's day. Me and Lincoln- we're taking on the world at every turn.

Volunteering at the TV station tonight. A show at the Strange Maine- a little hodge podge shop with music and movies. I only went there once and the cashier looked like every member of TV on the Radio combined. Having a phone conversation about something either extremely personal or very illegal.

The math professor sends me an email:
"And remember, 27 is the last prime cube you will ever achieve as a birthday."

Yep. 27. Your life is amazing. Right down to the split ends.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Addressing Busters

"The State is for Man. NOT Man for the State."  - Jacques Maritian

It's an election year, and I owe my friend Patrick an apology...

Back in '08, swept up in Obama fever, I shot an email out to friends and family drumming up enthusiasm, or at least sharing my own, for the upcoming election.
I was excited for much of the same reasons that others were, including voting for the first time in a place other than Western PA, and was- as I still am- a resident of Chicago, Illinois. Ground Zero Obamaville.

When I talked to my friend Pat about who he was voting for, he said: "No one. I'm not voting."
I then proceeded to give him a bunch of shit for it.
I'm not even sure I remember his reasons for not voting. But time, and experience, teaches.
Perhaps he knew something I didn't, and was afraid to tell me for fear I wouldn't listen.

My point being, I'm not sure whether I come to this out of the peculiarities of a generation so generally and swiftly jaded by a broken, static system, maybe each one feels more estranged than the last...
Although for me it was late 20's, I'm sure it's a more personal timeline for everyone. Some people never get to confronting that coarse of injustice that facilitates a nihilistic outlook on what is, at large, a wholly dysfunctional option.

But, to Pat and to whom it may concern: I'm there. I've arrived.
You were right, and now we have Occupy fever.

To digress a moment, my last two partners have been "Baby Busters". They were, are, 48 years old.
In speaking with the first one day, I had a realization that I should have had a long time ago, which was that this system and its politics are cyclical like anything else. The same samsara-trap set, the same trap going off again and again.
What scam that involves selling our rights back to us comes next is our only guess- "universal health care" seems like the likeliest candidate.
And the latest admitted a paradox, because the current Mr. President is himself a "Buster", a generation also plenty jaded with politics.

However complex the variables and outcomes, the primary conclusion is herein momentarily being: I've decided to divorce myself from voting.
No ballot casting ever again, for anything local, state, federal, international, universal.

Voting distracts.
And besides, don't we just vote every day anyway with a thing politicians are more interested in anyhow?