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gremdarkI mean, fuck.
Keeping up with the news in the past decade plus has been this cycle of seeing the next thing coming and hoping with all my might that the clock runs out on various terms before the worst can come to pass. I woke up to the first wave of news out of Iran, and of course the situation in Kansas has cast a shadow over the entire week.
I keep telling myself that the best thing I can do is to push in where I am and do what I can. Sometimes that's very hard.
My fiance and I spent the morning doing yard/beautification work at our fabulous local trans org's new community center, which is still a fixer upper. I moved a giant load of downed branches and picked up two bags' worth of trash, and my fiance assembled a trampoline someone had recently donated. Later we agreed that doing that work was the only reason we felt even remotely sane for the rest of the day. The org we worked with does exemplary work for local queer folks and immigrants. It's good to spend time with the other people in our community who care about seeing that work done, and doing something positive with my hands was a great way to burn off the fear/anger energy. A little group of teenagers showed up and did some raking. It was really lovely to see them.
In the afternoon, while alternately obsessing over the news and resolutely trying to think of other things, we went to a dear friend's surprise birthday party. When she first came in, ~30 of us were packed into a back room waiting to leap out. One of our number was her two year old nephew, who predictably started wailing just as everyone shushed. One of his parents hustled him out a back door, and my friend was none the wiser until our cue. The party was a roaring success. I only knew a handful of people there, but her husband had done a wonderful job with the guest list and everyone got along excellently. And there was prosciutto at the buffet.
We stopped by the pet store to get crickets for our housemate's tarantula, then ate a quick dinner and headed out to an indie wrestling show at a local bar. It was my first time attending a show at that venue, and I had even more fun than I expected. The highlight was a comedy match between a time-displaced caveman attempting to become our ruler through combat prowess and a gentleman billed as "the world's deadliest talking mime." There were a great deal of invisible walls, lassos, and other props, which couldn't be ruled against because the ref couldn't see them.
I'm glad my day was already booked full, because seeing all the normal people who inhabit the world around me is a great antidote to the dull feeling you get when you spend too long reading headlines without going outside. It is that bad, and it's not going to get better soon. It is that bad, and also today a group of semi-strangers and I made our community space nicer. So many people in my circle of friends and family have early voted because I talked to them about it. It's always humbling and disconcerting to experience such joy at the same time as I'm feeling so much anger, sorrow, and fear. But we need that joy. That's how we keep showing up for each other tomorrow.
I hope you and your loved ones are safe and secure. Good night.
Keeping up with the news in the past decade plus has been this cycle of seeing the next thing coming and hoping with all my might that the clock runs out on various terms before the worst can come to pass. I woke up to the first wave of news out of Iran, and of course the situation in Kansas has cast a shadow over the entire week.
I keep telling myself that the best thing I can do is to push in where I am and do what I can. Sometimes that's very hard.
My fiance and I spent the morning doing yard/beautification work at our fabulous local trans org's new community center, which is still a fixer upper. I moved a giant load of downed branches and picked up two bags' worth of trash, and my fiance assembled a trampoline someone had recently donated. Later we agreed that doing that work was the only reason we felt even remotely sane for the rest of the day. The org we worked with does exemplary work for local queer folks and immigrants. It's good to spend time with the other people in our community who care about seeing that work done, and doing something positive with my hands was a great way to burn off the fear/anger energy. A little group of teenagers showed up and did some raking. It was really lovely to see them.
In the afternoon, while alternately obsessing over the news and resolutely trying to think of other things, we went to a dear friend's surprise birthday party. When she first came in, ~30 of us were packed into a back room waiting to leap out. One of our number was her two year old nephew, who predictably started wailing just as everyone shushed. One of his parents hustled him out a back door, and my friend was none the wiser until our cue. The party was a roaring success. I only knew a handful of people there, but her husband had done a wonderful job with the guest list and everyone got along excellently. And there was prosciutto at the buffet.
We stopped by the pet store to get crickets for our housemate's tarantula, then ate a quick dinner and headed out to an indie wrestling show at a local bar. It was my first time attending a show at that venue, and I had even more fun than I expected. The highlight was a comedy match between a time-displaced caveman attempting to become our ruler through combat prowess and a gentleman billed as "the world's deadliest talking mime." There were a great deal of invisible walls, lassos, and other props, which couldn't be ruled against because the ref couldn't see them.
I'm glad my day was already booked full, because seeing all the normal people who inhabit the world around me is a great antidote to the dull feeling you get when you spend too long reading headlines without going outside. It is that bad, and it's not going to get better soon. It is that bad, and also today a group of semi-strangers and I made our community space nicer. So many people in my circle of friends and family have early voted because I talked to them about it. It's always humbling and disconcerting to experience such joy at the same time as I'm feeling so much anger, sorrow, and fear. But we need that joy. That's how we keep showing up for each other tomorrow.
I hope you and your loved ones are safe and secure. Good night.
