03/14/2017 by syrbal-labrys
It’s been like a bad carnival ride since November 8th. I’ve been to a couple protests. I’ve lost count of how many petitions I’ve signed, how many letters I’ve written, and how many phone calls I’ve made. I’ve lost count of how many hundreds (thousands) of times I’ve watched or read news and shouted the curse phrase of the year: Jesus FUCK! (the “you” is silent)
It is March, and the new Chief Cheeto has spent more time weekending at his own resort and collecting government tax money payments for the same than I have spent on vacation/weekending in the last ten YEARS. I sure as hell cannot normalize what is happening to my country.
But it IS exhausting, all the resistance. Not that I intend to stop resisting, but it has to also have a positive component or you begin to stutter like an engine that needs both gas AND oil to run and you feed it only gas. I find I could really truly use a weekend away, but not only can I not afford that just now with various bits of normal life hitting the expense** fan; but I cannot just go “out” yet without staring at people and wondering, “Did you vote for that fucking nitwit in the red hat and tie?”
So, how does one get some normal back? We did the Netflix binges and comfort food. We are living the change we believe in, our household will grow by two this spring as the Marine returns to join our family with his wife. The T-Rex/Manchild is in love, and may move away very soon to be with his “Snow Queen” in the mountains. This will free up some space as he takes his brewing and bottled mead away with him. And the Raptor/Runaway son will inherit the Haven!
All those things are good, signs of life in the time of choleric politics! Yet, I continue to feel personally depleted. I need some NORMAL to fuel my fighting on — in the Magical Battle of America!
I had to get something juicing up the normal, leeching off the bitter. And as often, I found it in a bookstore! A paperbound notebook that says on the cover: “Complete the Story…” The book is an invitation to one page stories! They may not be terrific tales, done on the fly in fountain pen. But they move the mind in places usually away from the political morass! I always give a thought to a dear departed when I pick up my pen — a young friend gone too soon who went by the nickname “Storyteller Cat”!
At first, we thought the black liquid was oil, that we’d struck it rich and that we’d be able to retire and live in leisure. We actually started writing down all the ways we spend the money. Our first choice was …..(the rest is here.)
**LIKE my Maytag washer that costs more to repair than it did to buy – because the computerized shit DIES and then you are proper FUCKED! From now on? ONLY dumb appliances in this house!