Wednesday, February 9, 2011
i made a delicious sandwich for dinner. a veggie chik'n patty, spinach & artichoke hummus as a spread with some shredded lettuce all stacked on a ciabatta bun.
I've been doing a lot of thinking -politically,locally, racially, things like that.
Sunday we went to see Dolphus Weary speak at a church in Pinola. I read his book "I Ain't Comin Back" last year some time when we had first moved here and it made me re-think a lot of things, as well as made my eyes well up quite a few times.
It's an all black congregation church. most of the people i knew from the store, and most of them knew who Josh was since he's this side of Simpson County's reporter for the newspaper but they still looked at us in disbelief as we sat down, accidentally interrupting their Sunday school class.
We heard him talk about 5 local black people that had made it. It being somewhere other than where they grew up, overcoming any & all obstacles that society had put in their way for their race. We bought his wife's book and I hope to start on it this weekend.
I passed Dolphus' book on to my asst manager at work, and he said that it was weird that I would bring this to his attention. I asked him why and he said "well, you had no idea how important things like this are to me. The most segregated day in the entire week is Sunday. Thank you."
I've never been a fan of organized religion and I don't think that I ever will. I don't down people for it and I sure as heck don't condone that either. i think it's important for people to believe in something. Very important.
My fat, hairy arm pit picture is completely irrelevant to the majority of this post. I think I've only ever photographed my hairy pits one other time and that was back in early 2008. I also took a picture of my bruised tummy and posted it on Tumblr. I have a wicked large bruise on the lower half of my tummy from the new bagging system at work. I told my asst manager about it, not really tattle taling, but trying to get a glimpse of some sort as to where to go from there but he immediately went to the manager and told him. Nothing else was said. I asked the asst manager what he had said and he said he didn't say anything, really.
My hairy pits isn't a declaration of my feminist background, it's not "sticking it to the man", it's my declaration that I can do what ever the hell I want to do because it's MY body. MY BODY. Not yours, not yours, MINE. If you want to say "oh gross ew" then FINE, do it.
I'm trying to hard to be so very positive this year. It's worked out fine, pretty much. I'm not having a hard time doing it and I'm not having a hard time trying to do it. I'm just doing it. Besides our alternator going out, nothing else negative has happened for me to be upset about, really.
I've been re-reading a lot of Livejournal entries pre-my mom's death. It makes me long for the days when my head was kind of organized and my life kind of wasn't all about worrying if I can pay my half of the electricity bill. That's okay though, because you HAVE to at least kind of grow up, right? But things like this post make me miss the crap out of her. We'd go to the stupid mall just to people watch most of the time.
Good golly this post is about a lot.
My finger nails are red and my black tea is getting a bit cold so I'm going to chug it and hit the hay.
for you tea lovers that lose time like i do ,join this craft swap, twin peaks inspired art,
We have new neighbors now. They're pretty nice and quiet for the most part. We also recently started letting Olive Oyl explore the house because she was seeming like she was ready, after nearly a year of having her. She was still very skittish when we would even open a door near her, or try to go near her in the craft room so we kind of just let her do it on her own. She really loves exploring. She likes jumping on the records crate to get to the window and she'll sit in the living room window for hours just watching the cars go by, kind of like she would in the craft room but in here there's noise and I guess it makes it easier for her. I'm proud of her. I'm proud of Lulu too for not being a brat when Olive Oyl goes to bat at her tail or to jump on the top part of Lulu's couch so she can get on the window unit to look out the side window.