What to do? What to do?

what we get

There is nothing quite like standing in line at DHS. There is a feeling of utter isolation and communion. Quite contradictory, I know.  It is comparable to the class one must take as a college freshman on study skills. No one wants to be there; everyone must be there. There is this false sense of comradery. People standing in line speak to each other on familiar terms, knowing that everyone in the room has at least one thing in common.

Everyone shows up at the last minute, hopes for the best, and finds disappointment.

In a small town, this isn't quite the same, since one may be familiar with the people offering their services, but in a larger town... well someone should change the old standby to read: Hell hath no fury like a DHS receptionist. It has a nice ring, no?

The thing is, everyone there, waiting, does have something in common. We have all been stuck under one label which is entirely inadequate. Not to sound entitled, but where is the reform for the impoverished? Handing over an EBT (Electronic Benefits) card just isn't working. Some are simply stuck, for worse not better, in their situation. Isn't there something more that could be done, something more beneficial for everyone?

I walked into the clinical waiting room today to see a line of people trying to wait as patiently as possible. I wonder about their stories, about what they may have lost, how they feel. I wonder what most of the people on assistance would say to the change to get more education or to working a factory job.

I know the stereotypes. I know that people on HUD, SNAP, TEA, whatever are all supposed to be lazy bastards sitting around all day getting fat on TV and frozen dinners. This isn't what I see though. I see a group of people forced into one room trying to be polite and not show their embarrassment.

I know that I use assistance to be able to raise my child and go to school to finish my degree in English. One day I will give back and do so gladly. I know that everyone needs some help sometimes. I can't help but wonder how the great minds of the past would feel about the ways in which government assistance works these days, about who reaps the most benefits. What would Emerson say? How about Marx? Jesus? Ghandi?

black

Around the time I began drinking coffee black, I suddenly rocketed into true adulthood. This realization left me wondering... is it possible to find solace in a cigarette or a cup of coffee? Possibly in both. It truly is the small things.

ramble

I recently listened to a podcast on poetry. One writer spoke about insomnia, how she found the waking hours of the night more comforting and thoughtful. Possibly this is true. I don't happen to know much about insomnia; sleep tends to be high on my priority list. Tonight I've stayed up all night, for once it wasn't about drinking or studying. Good morning.

I've just been thinking. Lately my writing life has come to a halt, so much reading leaves little time for writing... or thinking about anything other than assigned readings. So many writers seem to take the road of pretentiousness. I always find myself enamored with these authors and philosophers, yet I often find myself mentally yelling at them to just say it, already. What is the point? Make it! I admire the author who makes a point quickly and with care to make the reader uncomfortable. Of course, my love for William Faulkner would prove incongruous with this statement.

 Lately, for kicks, I've been watching Sex and the City. This is something that I would not have admitted a year ago, but I've found myself thinking about the points that the show makes. Sure it is no deep, difficult show, but that is the point. Deep and difficult get old at some point, especially as a literature graduate student. Carrie is always asking questions in her column. The point isn't in the show itself or the questions she ponders; it is in the fact that is always examining herself and her choices. She asks others to do the same, and I like that. That is one very important quality of a good writer. Tonight, rather today, I have been thinking about the past. Carrie would ask, "Can we ever escape the past?" She apparently cannot, since she steps into a past relationship with a new spin on it in the last episode. So possibly we cannot escape the past, but isn't that a good thing? Why even attempt it? Just make peace with it. People do change, and people don't change.

Recently I've realized that it is okay to admit to liking romantic comedies and dramas. It is okay to wish for Bon Iver tickets while simultaneously wishing to relive a Prince concert. In my more recent past, I watched a dear friend experience unrivaled teenage joy at a Tom Petty concert. I heard Regina Spektor sing acapella on the same night and experienced a similar teenage joy. Joy: that fleeting feeling of everything being right in the world. How wonderful. That night led me to a realization. I've spent so much time chasing joy, trying to figure out what would bring me joy, making things up that would bring it to me. Finally I figured it out. One cannot chase it; it simply happens. All I can do is be aware of joy when it rears its lovely head.

 Folklore taught me how to see the past, how to gain insight on the ways in which attitudes and folk influenced history and stuck around for the present. Now I just need to apply these lessons about performance and context to my own past to see how certain ideas, people, and stories affected my own story and my own opinion. Reading books by contemporary writers from Appalachia (different class; fit nicely) helped me gain a sense of place and be okay with my love of the South.

Now that I look over these musings, I see that I've made no point. Sometimes though, that is the point. My language will never be all fluffed and contrived. I'll continue using the words I know.

 My plants are growing; the girl is growing, and I am growing.

Hardy, AR

Disconnect

Maybe we should all disconnect to this level. Go back to something like a house phone that can be carried anywhere in the world. Could this phone be the most lo-tech device being made right now?

Everyone needs a phone, but do we need to carry around miniature computers/cameras?

actions

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Your actions speak so loudly that I cannot hear what you are saying."

My initial response to this snippet is to think of all the times that someone in my life has not followed their words with actions. This could be anyone, and I am not thinking of one specific person, even so the thought persists. Blame, blame, blame. Yet that lowers me, especially I assume, in Emerson's eyes.

My internal dialogue should be one of asking myself if my actions are yelling so loudly about something else that the things I posit to be true are being doubted or overshadowed completely. Are my words true?

I certainly try. I certainly fail. Sometimes, occasionally, I live up to something worthwhile. Hopefully one day, I'll listen more. Maybe tomorrow.

Light

On reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Reading Annie Dillard has left me feeling as though I need to look more closely, to see nature appear and reappear, to feel the present moment, to see if evil is lurking near; is that really evil?

How can I make the time to catch more than a simple glimpse of things and see them from a different perspective in my hurried day to day life?

Those are the thoughts of the day, week, lifetime...

#3

On Friday my daughter turned three years old. It was a beautiful day, not nearly so hot as the day she was born, and we woke her with singing and birthday cake. As I brought her down the stairs, she rubbed her sleepy eyes, and didn't get too excited. I asked, "Nora, is this a good way to wake up?" She answered, "I don't know if you should have woke me up for this..." My mom said that this won't be the first time I would like her to get more excited about something than she will. I did the classic "look-straight-ahead and do not smile at all" on any ride, be it at a county fair or outside of Wal-Mart when I was a tot.



Nora seems to have grown up more in the last few months than I've realized. I have to almost study the past to clearly see all the changes. She dresses herself these days and spits out toothpaste. Those are so minute, but from my perspective so important. She has complained about her friends at daycare not always playing with her, and I know that she has some of my qualities to overcome. I can never really decide if I'm a loner at heart or not. I know I desperately miss time to myself when I don't get it.

There are so many changes to log away, and I hope I find the time to do it all. Nora is always telling me that when she gets big and I get little, she'll let me buckle the top part of the car seat or buy me ice-cream cones. She says I can pick out my own clothes and that she'll sometimes take a bath with me. I love the logic. If she is getting bigger, then at some point I must have to get smaller.

I can't believe it!

drugs

There has been a lot of talk about being drug tested to receive government assistance since Florida is now doing drug testing. Many people think that this should be done in every state.

I disagree. I feel like a random home inspection once a year would take care of the problem, as was suggested by a friend. I can see some of the pros to drug testing, but I think that the better solution would be to inspect homes, because then more truth comes to light. Most people can prep for a drug test and pass it regardless, which happens quite often in other circumstances.

What really bothers me about this whole thing is one argument for drug testing in particular. The "I have to get tested for work, so you should have to get tested to not work" line really gets me.

It is a privilege to work. Employers' have the right to expect certain things out of their employees or potential employees. The assistance that is given to citizens by their government should be there regardless.

Wings

Converation with the girl:

Nora: I can swim by myself. I can swim by myself. I have water wings.
Me: That's pretty cool, Nora. Water wings are pretty awesome.
Nora: Yeah.... But, I can't fly now.





Just making sure you all knew that water wings do not give you the ability to fly.

This post was due Friday, and now I am playing catch-up.

Via

Counting the Beats - Robert Graves

You, love, and I,
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and I
What care you or I ?

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

Cloudless day,
Night, and a cloudless day,
Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day
From a bitter sky.

Where shall we be,
(She whispers) where shall we be,
When death strikes home, O where then shall we be
Who were you and I ?

Not there but here,
(He whispers) only here,
As we are, here, together, now and here,
Always you and I.

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.



The first time I read this poem, I immediately noticed two lovers one close to death. Then I looked at the poem as an image in and of itself, and I noticed that it looks like the lines of a heart monitor, the beating of a heart displayed through words. For me, nothing could be more lovely.

Then I thought about death, about the verb "die." The Oxford English Dictionary says that to die does not only mean physical death, but that it also means "to experience a sexual orgasm. (Most common as a poetical metaphor in the late 16th and 17th cent.)" If this does depict an orgasm, then the climax must happen during the volta (turn), when the narrator states, "Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day" (l. 11). And the idea of such uncertainty occurring at that moment is quite intriguing, from a poetical standpoint.

There is a sort of vague hopelessness inherent in this very intimate scene. The narrator knows that the future will not be good, that like all relationships things must eventually end, for one reason or another. Even though the woman has questions, she is resolved to let them lie, wakeful but silent, as she and her lover lie in the last line of the poem.

Is this piece about the death of a relationship or the death of an individual in the near future? Have they just made love? Is someone being less than honest? Those are all things for the reader to interpret.

No more cartwheels in a white jumpsuit on the beach. Now ladies can safely hide in bamboo and watch as two men battle over her vag, and it is all because of Summer's Eve. Ladies, take your hoo-ha back to the old days with Summer's Eve! (Note: Women have now been reduced to one part of the body through this ad. That's a problem for me.)

Ways to Prevent Sexual Assault - In a handy poster format

Via

Motherhood

It’s those sticky fingers
reaching upwards,
glazed with supper’s residue,
holding a bite
of something
resembling a strawberry.
As I open my mouth to say,
“No, you eat it”
her tiny hand rushes
into my mouth,
leaving me chewing
that pink blob and saying,
“Mmm, perfect.”

-Lauren Adams

Attacks

The assault on Planned Parenthood continues. In Indiana they have voted to cut all funding from the program. This measure also makes it illegal for a woman to have an abortion after 20 weeks, unless she is going to die, basically.

How is it that states can vote 66-32 against an organization that does so much good?

Growing up in a very conservative and fundamentalist Christian household left me ridiculing women who chose to have abortions for a large part of my life. Then I woke up to realize that my body is sacred and mine alone. I should be able to choose what happens to my body. That type of thinking only leads to the obvious decision to stand for other women's right to their own fucking bodies.

Why are we fighting for this now? Does this seem completely obvious and ridiculous to anyone except me? I mean, how can you trust me with a child if you can't trust me with my own body?

Yet all of that seems to be beside the point. State governments are still attacking Planned Parenthood. I stand with Planned Parenthood. If you stand with them, then be sure to call or email your Representatives and Senators. The Arkansas Representatives can be reached here. The Arkansas Senate members can be reached here.

Just remember that even if you are against abortion, you probably aren't against preventative care, which makes up 97% of Planned Parenthood's services. These services go to women, men, and teens who cannot get this treatment anywhere else. Planned Parenthood offers so much more than abortion. Know the facts. If you are making an uninformed vote or are misinformed about an issue then you are hurting more than just yourself.

journey

In Live for a Living Buddy Wakefield writes in the passage titled "Wrest" some thing that I think may be one root of the problem we seem to be facing today. He says, "For my first 23 years, I was scared into believing in a God who would eventually and literally burn forever anyone who did not strictly adhere to His laws as written by man in a book using language that has long since been subtly mutilated."

This text that so many people are basing their lives on is one fraught with fear and reward. I remember getting "saved" when I was five years old. I couldn't sleep late one Sunday night. I was frightened of dying in my sleep, and if I died, then God (this mighty and worshiped being) would send me, an innocent child, to the pits of hell to burn with other sinners forever. Of course, as I became older I rationalized that God wouldn't do such a thing to a small child, but this is the same book that says if a person strikes his mother or father he shall be put to death (Exodus 21:15).

Later as I contemplated the realities of the Bible, as I studied other thought and theories, when I finally took some looks into evolution on my own, I found that things were not making sense. I spent two years trying to rid myself of the fear of giving up my "belief" in God, a belief that hadn't truly been there in some time. Now I have overcome the guilt of natural and healthy human desires. I realize that I do not need a reward to be kind to others, and I find that I am far more compassionate towards others.

There is this control exercised in the Bible, given to men or parents or God, that has pervaded the thoughts of western civilization. Now many feel as though the are in control of other living things, that the Earth and her creatures are human's possessions to rule. When will the vast population realize that the Earth and her creatures can all survive easily without humans, yet we cannot survive without her and her creatures.

All of these thoughts lead me to want to work towards change. I find myself pondering what I can do between work, motherhood, and just trying to make it. I can work to better myself. I can recycle and compost. I can talk to others about the things that I know that they may not know. Maybe I can convince one person to buy less during the next year. Maybe I can explain to one woman that women's beauty products cost more than men's products of the same nature.

I have realized that feminist doesn't cut it. Humanist. That's a difficult title.