Missing Al Gore...

Last week, I went to see An Inconvenient Truth (or the Al Gore movie as I've been known to call it), because one of my Austin friends saw and said that he thought about me the whole way through watching it. It was so scary. Really the information presented was nothing new to me...melting icecaps, crazy angry weather systems, catastrophic climate shift, blah, blah, blah. But seeing it in this format, complete with graphs and charts and projected illustrations, made the reality so much more real to me. I went home that night and turned down my A/C, made sure only the necessary lights and appliances were on, turned off the water while I brushed my teeth, recycled some stuff, began looking into joining a food coop.

I was at dinner with friends last night, two of whom had seen the movie, and they had the same reaction as me. We discussed for quite a while if this would make a difference in the way the world is moving or if it's just speaking to those of us who were already inclined to believe it. Can the left leaning segments of the United States who have readily accessible art theatres, or later readily accessible Netflix, do enough to change the course of the world climate?

With the insanity of current weather patterns--floods on one coast, fires on another--it seems, in my all too logical mind, that people might stop and take notice. Park their SUVs on the side of whatever super-highway they're speeding down and walk to the next bicycle shop. But then I was shaken from my dream by some disturbing forwards I received this week. I really should stop reading them. They have about the same affect on me as does the television news. The first one stated somewhere in its rambling "If you can read this, thank a teacher." I'm okay with this. "If you're reading this in English, thank a soldier." I was enraged. I do support the troops and appreciate the sacrifices they have made for what they believe to be the country's best interest, but this is (a) just ridiculous. The reason we speak English in the United States is because some British people came and settled land that didn't belong to them 400 years ago, bringing with them pox blankets (as per Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States). And (b) that statement is just a little bit on the bigoted side, don't you think. The second e-mail basically said that in 1986 Oliver North tried to warn Al Gore about terrorists and Al just laughed at him because he couldn't pronounce the supposed terrorists' names. Now my conservative cousins are going to read this (in English, of course) as it's passed around the family and say, "Well, look here. That Al Gore is responsible for 9/11 and he's just trying to cover it up with this Global Warming hullabaloo." Woe is me.

Making Declarations.

I had to stop watching the news a long time ago. It just makes me sad, angry, distraught, disturbed, etc. Really anything in an array of negative emotions. I yell at the TV, swearing at it, shaking my fist. I'm still relatively informed as I read the New York Times on-line almost daily and I allow myself the occasional Daily Show. I, however, do watch morning shows. As I eat breakfast each morning I watch the Channel 7 news, and am given the daily headline stories by Diana Sawyer as she gives us the Good Morning America teasers. This is generally enough to evoke all of the above mentioned emotions in me. Karl Rove is cleared....Booooo. Donald Rumsfeld is still a pompous, ignorant a-hole (and apparently a ninja). GW is taking surprise trips to Iraq. "Look, here I am. It's so safe. Oh and...Freedom, Liberty, Nuclear, Terrorist...Strategery." And today, the House voted in a bill against the withdrawal troops from Iraq within a six month period.

When the bill is titled "Declaring that the United States will prevail in the Global War on Terror, the struggle to protect freedom from the terrorist adversary," how can you expect that people will vote against it? If a person were to vote against it, look what they're saying. "I don't want the United States to prevail." "How important really is a Global War on Terror?" "We're too free as it is." And while I may have at one time or another uttered one or more of these statements, it's not really something an elected official would want the public to hear them say. But let's say, we rename the bill for what it really is. How about "We've already lost 2500 soldiers and countless civilians have died because of our War. Maybe that's enough." Or "Declaring that the United States could use the money better elsewhere, say to fight the Global War on Poverty, Disease, and Hatred, rather than contributing millions of dollars a month to these atrocities." Maybe then something could be done.

Today...

Today, 25 years ago, the United States government first recognized the disease that would be known as AIDS. It would be 5 more years and hundreds of lives before anyone in the United States government would take any action to slow this epidemic. The president stated that there was no need to panic because this disease was only affecting gay men and IV drug users, and there was no need for the rest of us to worry. GMHC had begun taking care of people living with AIDS, which now included people both heterosexual and homosexual, people with hemophilia and many children. And until the mid-1990s, most of these people died. Precious, precious time was lost because this disease at first affected only people who didn't matter.

I sat in my office this morning and read an article in the New York Times (and this editorial, and this one too) marking this anniversary. And I spent the entire time trying so hard not to cry. When I graduated from college, I was bored. I am someone who needs to be busy all the time. Being still does not come easy for me. So I started reading. I read a book called Sometimes My Heart Grows Numb about people who were caregivers for people with HIV in the early parts of the epidemic and it spoke to me. I felt that I had to do something. So I started volunteering with AIDS Services of Austin, as the intake person for their dental clinic. And it wholy changed my life. The first day I worked there I did intake for a young man who I had gone to school with. It was terrifying. To know the tole the AIDS epidemic took on the generation before, and imagine such a thing happening to my generation is...well, unimaginable. I look at my friends and cannot even conceive such a thing. Losing so many in such a horrible way. Being afraid of who will be next. Living in a state of constant terror and sorrow. Just unthinkable.

On Pins and Needles....

I have officially been headache free for over 24 hours! "What/who is responsible for this miracle?" you ask. Oh, it is the greatest thing of all things. It is acupuncture.

Having gone and spent a good deal of money on my ENT (who is wonderful and looks like a Knight Rider era David Hasselhoff), and being told that it was not my sinuses, yet again, (though I know it is), I decided to leave behind Western Medicine. My friend gave me the name of an acupuncturist and the woman was very kind and sympathic, which is really all I was looking for (after Dr. Hasselhoff kinda laughed in my face...still wonderful though). I went last Friday and was stuck with about 20 pins from head to toe, a very strange experience all together. Her full assessment: my headache is due to stagnation of my qi and perfectly follows the lines of the gallbladder channel (but having nothing to do with the actual gallbladder). It sounds a little mumbo-jumbo-y, but let me just say, it works. Friday's treatment didn't last so long and I had a bad headache weekend, but I went again on Wednesday morning and am freed. And as a side-effect of the treatment, I got to be high pretty much all day yesterday. It was great fun, if not a little distracting.

Otherness.

I was slated to do the communion meditation again at CCfB this week, but had nothing in mind to say. I've been mulling it over since last Sunday when JTB told me it was my turn. Then on Thursday night, I was at the Bible study I often attend, and it hit me. And this is what I ended up with for today. We were talking about whether or not the church (both capitol and lower case) should be involved in politics. My answer…“Of course” and a long tirade about the way the church has been made to look in the public eye, and the underlying reasons the current administration has for picking the issues they have picked. In the process of my weekly tirade, I made a statement that led to a realization on my part.

I have lived most of my life in a state of intentional otherness. I, since I was a child, have chosen to identify myself with a myriad of things that make me different, to such an extent that I fully belong to nothing. When I was very young, it was my logical mind. I was never silly or petty or girly in any way, and refused to be a party to such foolishness. And then I was too angsty, punk-rock Bohemian to conform to the standards of anyone. And in college, I was too angry, girl-rock, politico, revolutionary, Bohemian to not remain an other. I had all my other statements lined up…separating myself by my ideals, my politics, my momentary Vegetarianism. The fact that I’m not a traditional Southerner, that I’m liberated, that I’ve been to a union ceremony. That I’ve seen The Last Temptation of Christ and wasn’t appalled. That I am controversial, a mystery wrapped in an enigma, all tied up in a quandary. That it’s me against the world.

While me against the world is good for songs, poems and manifestos, it’s not really so fun. It’s pretty overwhelming. When you live as an other, there’s no one to trust with your problems. There’s no one to take care of you when you’re sick, or to worry about things with you. Or to help you do whatever it is that you might need help doing. It leads to anxiety and anger, lots of yelling and arguing, sometimes for arguing’s sake. Just to be heard.

I have been aware of my state for while, but lacked the power to change it. Due to the state of my family, I essentially raised myself. I have had few very times in my life when I felt like I actually had someone to take care of me when I needed them. In college, with my friends there (who once tricked the dorm counter clerk into giving them a key to my room, because I wasn't answering the phone and they were worried). And now, with my church, CCfB. What I have experienced there over the past few weeks has been amazing. And I don’t know what to say other than that. I have felt that I am fully a part of something. I am so, so grateful to be a part of this body. It has been such a blessing to be a part of such a family.

Since Nathan has not been able to be here the past few weeks, he asks about church when I speak to him on the phone, generally on Tuesdays. I’ve told him that I feel like there’s something happening here. Something truly remarkable. For whatever reason, I feel like this is what a church is supposed to be, in it’s purest, simplest form. Like that talked about in one of my favorite scriptures, Micah 6:8.

He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Home.

I LOVE this show! LOVE IT! My four roommates over the past 3 years have all been subjected to my Sunday night ritual. After several viewings, they all come around. I have developed a routine around it.

I come home from CCfB, hoping that my roommate won't be home. I prefer to watch alone, for the same reason I see powerful movies alone (ie. The Pianist, Philadelphia, Hotel Rwanda). There is great potential for sobbing. I can hold it in a bit, and I always do when a roommate's around, but it's not the same. And then I sit on my couch and watch. No snacks or drinks. Nothing to get in the way. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

I find that I am very affected by anything to do with giving people a home. Habitat for Humanity commercials, the end of Life as a House, that scene in Garden State where Zach and Natalie talk about finally feeling at home, books about people going home after a long time away. It's endless really. Having moved around and around and around when I was a child, I feel a strange sort of connection to these people, as I have felt a sense of this before. It is difficult having no sense of stability and security. I sometimes find myself missing a place that never really existed. Home is important, whether that means a place, a feeling, a person. It's something everyone is searching for.

I am so impressed by ABC giving people such wonderful things every week. At times I am bothered by the branding and commercialism of it, but I guess they've gotta pay for it somehow. Home...what an amazing gift.

AIDS Walk New York

This weekend is the AIDS Walk in NYC. This is my third year to do it. It's a great experience. Thousands of people walking through Central Park on a Sunday afternoon, having a great time, enjoying each others company, and of course supporting services for people living with HIV/AIDS and research to find a cure.

If you're interested in donating money, here's my donation page. And if you're interested in walking, it's not too late. Just click here and sign up with my team.


UPDATE: The AIDS Walk was a big success. They raised $6.5million. Thanks for your support.

Seeking Safety.

On Thursday night, I went to the MCx Young Professionals Small Group for the third installment of a discussion about homosexuality. I went in expecting another fiery discussion, as at the previous week's discussion I could not keep my mouth shut. I've apparently become notorious among this group for being able to talk circles around anyone. At one point someone asked me a direct question and there were Oooos and Aaahs at the prospect of this person taking me on. He responded with "Oh no. I'm not taking her on. Casey would destroy me in a second." And I had begun the evening having dinner with a friend where we got into a discussion of the reasons why other countries are justified in their bad feelings toward Americans. I don't even know how we got there.

I have VERY strong opinions. One might even call me opinionated. How sad. I don't like to admit that I am anything negative. I am convicted. I am resolute. I am steadfast. I am thoughtful. I am challenging. And maybe even opinionated, but I hate admitting to the negative connotations of this word.

The minister of Manhattan Church of Christ was there on Thursday because we had asked him to be a part of our discussion. His opinions and ideals matched mine, so I never felt compelled to speak up and was given time to just listen. He said something that has stuck with me. He never delivers sermons that contain political overtones, because he wants to be a place of safety for people. A place of safety. Someone who is approachable and who can engage in an even-handed discussion. Someone who can maintain their passion on a topic without becoming inflammatory. Hmmm...I'll have to think about that.

Seeing the Trees.

I found again yesterday that I often cannot see what is right in front of my face. There have been many, many times in my life when I've been telling someone a story, just for the sake of telling a story because that's what I do, and the reaction of this person has made me realize something fundamental about the situation that I had not allowed myself to see. That I am finally content somewhere. That it is important that my birthday is remembered. That I should have somewhere to go for Christmas. That my illness is a big deal. That it is important that I am taken care of. That I am not alone. I'm sure everyone has this feeling, but I feel at times like I am blind. I don't know how to change this. I don't know how to be able to see the forest for the trees. How to understand and be aware of these things without someone telling me. But I guess that's where the whole not being alone thing comes in.

Gesundheit.

In discussing my allergies with someone (who I cannot at the moment recall), it was hypothesized that maybe I am an alien. How else does one explain living on a planet where you are allergic to everything occurring in nature? Seriously, I am not exaggerating. I had allergy testing done again last year and on the list it just said "Trees"--Check; "Grass"--Check, and so on, ticking off every thing occurring naturally on planet Earth, not so much by specific trees and grass, but just knowing that if it's there, I'm allergic to it. I do believe I might even be allergic to myself.

As we speak, NYC is apparently engaged in its worst allergy season on record. Something to do with the winter being too mild and the pollens being release with such ferocity that it could only be a sign of the acopalypse. They will soon have to create another level--High, Very High, and Absurdly F-ing High--to describe what is coming our way. I looked at the Weather.com Allergy Almanac yesterday and can track the severity of my symptoms with the eb and flow of the pollen counts. I would at this point trade my left eye for some good, old, run-of-the-mill sneezing and itchy eyes. Once when I was in high school, there was a day where I sneezed maybe once every thirty seconds...for the entire day. I would take that over what I've got right now, hands down. What I get instead is a headache that pretty much encompasses the entire right side of my body. You're thinking "That sounds serious and like nothing a simple allergy could cause." But, oh, these are no simple allergies we speak of here. These are like Clark-Kent-being-exposed-to-Kryptonite type allergies. So, so sad when pieces of your home seek to destroy you.