redemption song

me, talking

Monday, January 31, 2005

Right now, it's not just alright, it's right. right now in the sun and the melting shreds of the blizzard, I can let it go, just a little, just for once.


love,
alex


p.s. listening to a lot of Sleater-Kinney, if you want to know the kind of mood I'm in. Tomorrow, I will be twenty!

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Republicans make me want to WASH AND WASH AND WASH AND WASH until no trace of their outbreath remains on me. And seriously, what is it with Republican boys? It must be really hard to get laid as a conservative (unlike, say, anarchist poet songwriters, who in the words of one I know, get more ass than God). The second you show neocon adolescents any inkling of respect for their common humanity, they're all pulling chairs out for you and opening doors and asking what you're doing Thursday night and vowing to defend you to the death against THOSE VIOLENT LEFTIST BASTARDS. No, no, really.


My beloved constituents, please do _not_ regale me with descriptions of how I am being intolerant. I have been brawling with the Protest Warriors over on Indymedia, and I do not have the energy to keep being polite here.

love! (conditionally)
alex

Saturday, January 22, 2005

The Korean guy has been using this computer, so Blogger Dashboard is in Korean. Which, may I say, is a very pretty written language.

This morning, I got up at 9:30 and went walking with my roommate in the ice-covered woods. 2 to 3 inches of snow tonight. We'll see, friends. We'll see.

On my agenda today: finding a phillips screwdriver, so I can unscrew the stupid grate keeping us from using our fireplace. Brand new dorm, gas logs in the lobby, _metal grate_ keeping us from turning the thing on. Housing and residence life can bite my butt.

love,
alex

Friday, January 21, 2005

A friend just emailed our professor from DC. He says he got pepper sprayed for kneeling beside the parade route. His girlfriend, who previously hasn't done much besides the yearly SOA memorial, refused to bring soap in a bag or a bandanna or vinegar to DC. They wouldn't tear gas people in the nation's capital, she said. It would be all over the news.

The whole group got pepper sprayed yesterday. Most of them, at least, were expecting it. I should have been there with them. I should have.

love,
alex

Thursday, January 20, 2005

I don't know what to tell you. Nothing seems right right now; it's all aching head and gray sky and that horrible taste of blood behind the throat that comes at the end of a cough. I'm behind in all my classes, and not about to catch up; I'm claustrophobic and lonely, and I don't know how to fix it. In retrospect, though, I will think I'm happy, and I guess that's what counts.

love anyway
alex

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Just a note, people, I've met some of the people who, as children, crossed the bridge at Selma and met cops and horses and gas on the other side. I've met some of the SNCC workers who slept with a rifle on each side of their bed, because they honestly believed that if they were not armed against the Klan they wouldn't live out the summer. I saw the room where Martin Luther King Jr. lived as a child, and the church where he preached, and the room where he died, and he was a great man, and we owe a lot to his voice, to his charisma, to his way with words and his willingness to put himself on the line. But we owe a lot to Joanne Bland too, who was eleven, and teargassed, and woke up in the back of a car headed back across the bridge, with her wounded sister beside her. We owe a lot to every kid who went to jail, and every parent that let them, and every SNCC organizer that spent years going door to door registering voters, and every man and woman who registered despite the risks.

My dad's earliest memory of reading was sounding out the "whites only" sign on the door of the hardware store. He remembers it was across the middle piece of the screen, right at the eye level of a small child. It wasn't that long ago here. All I'm saying is, if we're going to get with the commemoration, a couple of Joanne Bland Boulevards wouldn't be amiss.

On a less significant note: I am just sick enough that I can't sleep. I would be fine all day, if only I had some damn sleep.

that's all. have a nice evening. It's ten degrees here.

love,
alex

Sunday, January 16, 2005

My mother and sister came and stayed for a bit, and bought me groceries and breakfast and the Feng Shui Daytimer pack. I should be feeling all sarcastic about this last thing, because it has pictures of koi and zen gardens and quotes from Buddhist texts and is all very Aging Yuppie. But it actually does make me calmer to look at zen gardens while recording my homework. So much for my sense of irony.

I was sorry to see my family go. I've been pretty ill lately, and pretty disoriented with the cultural reentry, and it was nice to have familiar people around. Now it's just me reeling and a lot of reading to do. We'll see.

love,
alex

Thursday, January 13, 2005

I put a lot of stuff in the hallway with a sign that said "free", and then I took some of it back inside. I dumped the boyfriend, and undumped the boyfriend, and now am not only an asshole but totally confused. If I wasn't sick I would feel full of life & love; if I wasn't sick I would feel miserable, displaced. I keep trying to be deep, so I can be with my companeros who are suffering like I suffered over Nicaragua. But I am not suffering like Nicaragua. I'm just confused.

love,
alex

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

So it turns out I am that kind of person. The kind of person who wakes up the next morning in a whole new country. The kind of person who doesn't just visit but the kind of person who lives, and stays. I am going to be the person that stays.

Nicaragua was my first love, it's true, my sweetest thing, la flor mas linda de mi querer. Honduras is not my love. But me and Honduras, we can have a healthy relationship.

It was not perfect. You should know that, because I will forget soon, because it was so beautiful to me. I was tired. I was chewed by bugs. I couldn't eat the food. I was homesick. While I was there, walking the dust on those paths, sleeping swinging in the hammock while the dogs fought outside, it was far from perfect. And while I was there, I couldn't feel myself changing. But I changed.

I am a little incoherant, sorry. All day my companeros and I, we have been emailing each other disoriented little notes. "I have no clue where I am," said one. "Floating in space", said the next. I said, there are more people in this building right now than lived in my whole village. If I'd thought it over, I would have said, I know where I am, but I cannot understand why I'm here.

everything is good.

love,
alex

Monday, January 10, 2005

In Honduras, in a sunny little internet cafe and shoe store in the old town of Tegucigalpa. One of my comrades is sending a postcard home of the FDR bridge at night, strung with christmas lights. The back reads "I just spent six days in a town without electricity. Here´s a picture of a bridge." That´s kind of the way I feel. This is a wierd country.

I have been doing some thinking. I hope that things will be different when I come back. I hope that I´ve changed. It´s been longer than two weeks, it´s been forever, and I will go back into the University Town at one in the morning tomorrow, possibly into a snow storm (having spent several days trying to siesta like my hosts, noon to two under a metal roof, dripping sweat) and I don´t know. I love a lot, right now.

The people in my group are wonderful! They are beautiful anthropology majors, full of change and rift and linda, sweetness. They are the wind under the moon.

I am also lonely, and tired. But right now, mostly, I am in love with it all.

love,
alex

I´ll tell you more soon.