The drinks absolve our sins
My move is over, and I’ve had the internet back for a while now. Yet I can’t really find anything to blog about. I go through periods, as my long-term readers may have noticed, where I become so intensely private I won’t even talk about political opinions in public. I’m not sure why I get into these moods, but I’ve been in one for a little while. I’m still not really ready to talk about anything deeply personal, though in summary (just so no one thinks I’m hiding terribly unpleasant secrets), my commute is much shorter, Pac’s schedule has changed so I see him more, and I’m really very happy. But rather than sit here in what I term “radio silence,” despite the mixing of metaphors, I’ll give you a list of things I’ve been sifting through/thinking about.
The Pill Kills – There is so much wrong here that I could probably write a term paper on it. The entire site is loaded with words designed to evoke emotional reaction, hoping that if you’re emotionally involved your logical faculties won’t notice the gaping problems in their “scientific” information. Oh, and apparently taking birth control means that your husband will treat you like his property – since men did so well not treating women like property before the birth control pill was available. Because it’s not about your right to your own body, it’s about mens’ rights to your body and what a bunch of old (supposedly) undersexed men think are God’s rights to your body. (Don’t get me wrong, Catholicism does a lot of things right, but like many Judeo-Christian religions, they do a lot of things wrong too.)
California declares equal rights to marriage – I am ridiculously grateful for this ruling, which says that all citizens will receive equal marriage rights. It also rules on something much, much bigger than the right to obtain a marriage license. What makes people fight so hard for equal marriage rights? Equal rights. The right to be free from discrimination against your sexual orientation, at the same level as the right to be free from religious, gender, or racial discrimination. Period. In re Marriage Cases contains a few sentences that give me hope back for this country, that maybe we’ll remember that we believe in freedom still. The California court has declared that sexual orientation falls under its equal protection clause, and therefore laws that discriminate based upon sexual orientation will be under legal scrutiny. And on top of that, the Governator has publicly stated he will not veto and will not encourage any amendment (not that there won’t be one on the ballot in November anyway).
I’m not dead yet!
No, I haven’t died. I’ve been moving, and as of yet have no internet. Woe. I’ll be back soon, though, I promise. No more radio silence. 
For you I’ve waited all these years
This weekend, Pac asked me to marry him. And in August, I am.
It’s incredibly hard to think of what to say about it. I am past the point of happy, I am content. Incredibly content. Waking up late on a cold Saturday when you’re that perfect degree of warm in your blankets content. Spring day after a long winter when the breeze caresses your face like a friend content.
But what do you say about the person who makes you smile even when you’ve had a bad day at work and you’ve got an appointment with a cancer screening the next day? The same person who trusted that you’d come back whole long after you’d given up, who always asked “What can I do to help?” and then did it.
He is the other half of my soul, whose presence I feel even in his absence. He’s the man who never asks me to be anything but myself, even when that means being teary and hormonal and helpless. He’s the man who took me to an Equality Now screening of Serenity for our first official date and asked me to marry him in my living room with my grandmother’s ring. He’s the man who thinks I look beautiful in baggy scrubs after a full day’s work and kisses me even when I’m sick.
I don’t know what else I can say, other than I’m marrying the person I know I’m spending my life with, who makes me incredibly happy. And now you know too.
In the last post I wrote, I talked about my fears for this country and how I needed to overcome that fear. What’s changed in the last week and a half? I have found the little nudge of hope I so desperately needed to remember that I refuse to be ruled by my apprehensions.
That nudge was The West Wing.
It’s true that in the past I’ve found a large amount of comfort from the show by embracing the fantasy of it all. The idea of a Democratic presidency at a time when a Republican presidency was driving me crazy, that’s very compelling stuff. I needed desperately to believe that there were people out there who would go to the White House and try to make the best decisions possible, who were genuinely good people, and who wanted to move forward with the country instead of backwards. All in all, when I’m feeling irritable, The West Wing is a fantastic band-aid.
But that wasn’t the nudge this time. The nudge is this: I live in a country where people watched The West Wing. Not only watched it, but loved it. I live in a country where those people still live and still vote. I watch this show, and it connects me to everyone who has ever watched it and loved it, because I think a lot of us found the same hope. And we’re still here, still voting, still desiring to bring about a change.
Yes, I live in a country where persons in all levels of government can lie and get away without punishment. Yes, I live in a country where hate is normalized and nurtured. Yes, I live in a country that is self-destructing from all the bad decisions made over the last decade. Yes, I live in a country (and, more pointedly, in a state) that is reviled across the world for these things and more.
But I also live in a country where The West Wing was watched, loved, and awarded for being a fantastic show. I live in a country with the people who watched and loved. And despite all the awful things, we are still here.
That is reason enough to shake off the fear.
The world is coming to this.
One Man’s God Squad – This scares me. I think it’s despicable that scare tactics and smear campaigns, like sending postcards to your neighbors claiming you kill babies because you answer the phones at a women’s health clinic, are acceptable to these people. What scares me the most is that these actions are becoming acceptable in the mainstream.
I am afraid of an atmosphere where things like this go uncontested. Where things like this are praised and lauded by people who run my government. I refuse to let this country become Gilead. Overcoming my fear will make me stronger, and overcoming my fear will make this country a better place.
I realize that I can’t get enough of you
Working in a medical lab is pretty cool. I’m the day shift clerical aide, so mostly I do paperwork, but I get to pick up lots of medical jargon in the process. It pleases my inner science nerd, which only ever got scared off of science because it involved lots of scary math, and one year of Calculus was enough. There’s a memorable story of the time my Chemistry professor wrote an integral on the board to explain a formula, and I hid under my desk until he erased it.
In addition to working 40 hours, I have to Commute to Dallas. I-35E, as it has been put to me recently, defies the space-time continuum. I spend roughly the same amount of time on my commute, whether I’m in stop-and-go traffic or whether I’m going cruising speed down the highway. However, the inclusion of two or more traffic accidents along my commute roughly doubles my commute time. And the phantom slow-downs, which appear for no reason and disappear in like fashion, bug the hell out of me. However, it does make me feel like a grown-up to be able to commiserate about my commute with my coworkers (who have vastly different but also irksome commutes).
I have become a coffee-drinker. Because there is a Starbucks about two blocks from work, and I’d rather not be able to get coffee in the morning than be late, I generally grab a coffee on the way to work. Currently I am head-over-heels for the Cinnamon Dolce Latte, but I’m sure I’ll start to branch out. I have already said the words “one pump mocha no whip grande caramel macchiato” out loud to a barista. I’m one of those people.
My first paycheck will be in my eager hands on Thursday. My birthday is on Saturday. The weekend after, I go home to visit my parents. I’m in a pretty kick-ass mood. Things are going really well.