I was poking around on the internet, and I happened to come across some surprising controversy about David Levithan's "Boy Meets Boy". Now, if you haven't read the book, you should be able to gather that yes, it's a gay love story. The people I saw disliking the book were not people who don't support lgbtq people, but instead tended to be lgbtq people themselves. The reasoning seemed to be that it was unrealistic, that a world like Paul's is so removed from what we have now, it felt weird.
You all know me. I have plenty of opinions, a blog, and a penchant for lgbtq books. Of COURSE I have something to say.
Boy Meets Boy is a romantic comedy in a book. It follows the formula that we are all familiar with after watching a few "chick-flicks". Boy meets boy, boy loses boy, boy re-unites with boy, we all live happily ever after. For some reason, this doesn't feel trite at all, instead, leaving me feeling like I'm drinking the best hot cocoa ever, surrounded by a pile of kittens.
Is the book realistic? Good question. In the same way that Harry Potter, Eragon, Lord of the Rings, or any other alternate reality is realistic, I would have to say yes. When I look for realism, I look for characters reacting in a way that feels right for their background, people who I actually believe could exist. The bottom line is this: do I believe the writer? Can I look past the words on the page and say "yes, you exist"? In the case of Boy Meets Boy, the answer is a resounding yes.
The world that Paul and Noah live in might not look like your world, or like my world, but that doesn't stop me from trusting the author and going along for the ride. And for the space between those two covers, I live in a town where drag queens are the star quarterbacks, where the local scout group is not the homophobic boy scouts, but instead, the co-ed, diversity-friendly Joy Scouts. On those pages, I stand in Noah's room and paint music, and I eat at Veggie D's.
Do I believe that a world like that could exist? With all my heart. That's the world I look forward to living in one day.
One thing I have to say is this. Do yourself a favor. No matter who you are, or what words you use to identify with, you should read this book. Read it and bask in how wonderful it will make you feel.
~Whimsy
P.S. Happy Banned Book Week! Boy Meets Boy has never been banned, but it's been challenged at a few libraries. Celebrate Banned Book Week with me, read one.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Week Thirty-Seven: "This what I get for trying to avoid social interaction."
Before I say anything else, I want to make it perfectly clear that this story is one hundred percent true, not embellished by anything, exactly as I remember it. All right. Here we go.
Because of Tropical Storm Irene, our home and surrounding property sustained damage, so we put in a request to FEMA for disaster relief. On Sunday, the FEMA guy* came to our house to assess the damage.
Being the socially suave animal that I am, I always feel awkward when service people come to the house and I'm just sitting there, doing nothing, or carrying on with my normal life. I realize that I don't need to feel awkward, but the fact remains that I do. There's something that feels just WRONG with just having jelly toast when the furnace man is working his butt off and I'm doing nothing to help, not even paying any attention to him.
I actually had the conscious thought "I don't feel like being social right now", so instead of remaining at the kitchen table and continuing to work on a plan for NaNoWriMo (like a normal person would), I decided to take my noveling folder and head upstairs to my room, to essentially hide away until the FEMA guy had gone. Since there was no damage to the upstairs, I figured that I would be out of the way. I sat down on my bed and put my headphones on, turned up the Jonathan Coulton music** and pulled out my pen.
Everything was wonderful until mom called up the stairs "We're coming up there, are you okay?" now, this might be a normal occurrence in someone else's home, but my room isn't a mom-free zone, and announcing her presence as she came up the stairs is something that just never happens. Even though it was a normal thing to say, it felt like she was yelling "come on, make sure you've got your pants on."
So I looked up from my writing, and suddenly, I realized that I had left at least three bras on my desk, the middle of the floor, and on my CD rack. Panicking now, I ran around like mad, scooping up my underthings from their precarious positions where they had been strewn, and cursing my untidy nature. Finally, I managed to corral my brassieres, and had just managed to tuck them away in the bra-housing-place, when the FEMA guy came up the stairs. I posed myself in what I hoped was a casual place, over by my desk.
This would have been a perfectly fine idea if I had followed through with actually being interested in what was on my desk, but because of my aforementioned untidy nature, there was a stack of clean laundry to put away, a pile of cd's, and no place to work on something that would genuinely hold my attention for a few minutes, so I did what any normal person would do. I just sort of stood there, watching him and smiling like a loon.
My mom, standing behind him, having no idea why I looked the the cat that had just eaten the proverbial canary, kept giving me looks, trying to ask me what on earth was up by only using her eyes. Of course, all I could do was continue to smile at her, in what I hoped was a charming manner, all the while thinking "Oh god, this what I get for trying to avoid social interaction".
He just kind of looked at me, after he finished measuring the room and said, "Well, I'll let you get back to what you were doing, then". I think I thanked him and then he left, so I got out my guitar and played some wizard rock***.
After a little while, I thought that it might be awkward if I stayed in my room for the whole time the FEMA guy was here, so I packed up my stuff and made my way downstairs. My sister, who had the sense to remain at the kitchen table and keep on with her sewing project, saw me return from my hidey-hole, and without my needing to say a single word, casually said "He's outside".
I spent the rest of his visit pretending to play it really cool, but paying VERY close attention to the door to see if Mister FEMA Man was going to return.
He didn't.
The moral of this story is twofold. One, I am a gloriously socially awkward human being, and two, hiding from the FEMA man only makes it worse.
Good people of the blog, this is my brain. Good night.
* Dear FEMA guy: if you are reading this, I hope I amused you, and that you didn't think I was hiding drugs in my room or something.
** The amount of time I've spent listening to The Princess Who Saved Herself and watching the Doctor Who music video that a fan did to go along with it is absurd.
*** Story of my life, people.
Because of Tropical Storm Irene, our home and surrounding property sustained damage, so we put in a request to FEMA for disaster relief. On Sunday, the FEMA guy* came to our house to assess the damage.
Being the socially suave animal that I am, I always feel awkward when service people come to the house and I'm just sitting there, doing nothing, or carrying on with my normal life. I realize that I don't need to feel awkward, but the fact remains that I do. There's something that feels just WRONG with just having jelly toast when the furnace man is working his butt off and I'm doing nothing to help, not even paying any attention to him.
I actually had the conscious thought "I don't feel like being social right now", so instead of remaining at the kitchen table and continuing to work on a plan for NaNoWriMo (like a normal person would), I decided to take my noveling folder and head upstairs to my room, to essentially hide away until the FEMA guy had gone. Since there was no damage to the upstairs, I figured that I would be out of the way. I sat down on my bed and put my headphones on, turned up the Jonathan Coulton music** and pulled out my pen.
Everything was wonderful until mom called up the stairs "We're coming up there, are you okay?" now, this might be a normal occurrence in someone else's home, but my room isn't a mom-free zone, and announcing her presence as she came up the stairs is something that just never happens. Even though it was a normal thing to say, it felt like she was yelling "come on, make sure you've got your pants on."
So I looked up from my writing, and suddenly, I realized that I had left at least three bras on my desk, the middle of the floor, and on my CD rack. Panicking now, I ran around like mad, scooping up my underthings from their precarious positions where they had been strewn, and cursing my untidy nature. Finally, I managed to corral my brassieres, and had just managed to tuck them away in the bra-housing-place, when the FEMA guy came up the stairs. I posed myself in what I hoped was a casual place, over by my desk.
This would have been a perfectly fine idea if I had followed through with actually being interested in what was on my desk, but because of my aforementioned untidy nature, there was a stack of clean laundry to put away, a pile of cd's, and no place to work on something that would genuinely hold my attention for a few minutes, so I did what any normal person would do. I just sort of stood there, watching him and smiling like a loon.
My mom, standing behind him, having no idea why I looked the the cat that had just eaten the proverbial canary, kept giving me looks, trying to ask me what on earth was up by only using her eyes. Of course, all I could do was continue to smile at her, in what I hoped was a charming manner, all the while thinking "Oh god, this what I get for trying to avoid social interaction".
He just kind of looked at me, after he finished measuring the room and said, "Well, I'll let you get back to what you were doing, then". I think I thanked him and then he left, so I got out my guitar and played some wizard rock***.
After a little while, I thought that it might be awkward if I stayed in my room for the whole time the FEMA guy was here, so I packed up my stuff and made my way downstairs. My sister, who had the sense to remain at the kitchen table and keep on with her sewing project, saw me return from my hidey-hole, and without my needing to say a single word, casually said "He's outside".
I spent the rest of his visit pretending to play it really cool, but paying VERY close attention to the door to see if Mister FEMA Man was going to return.
He didn't.
The moral of this story is twofold. One, I am a gloriously socially awkward human being, and two, hiding from the FEMA man only makes it worse.
Good people of the blog, this is my brain. Good night.
* Dear FEMA guy: if you are reading this, I hope I amused you, and that you didn't think I was hiding drugs in my room or something.
** The amount of time I've spent listening to The Princess Who Saved Herself and watching the Doctor Who music video that a fan did to go along with it is absurd.
*** Story of my life, people.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Week Thirty-Six: Spoiler-free thoughts about Pottermore and my own personal Sorting.
Wow. It sure feels like it's been a while since I've posted, but I know it's just because BEDA is over, and I'd been in the habit of blogging every day.
As is usually the case, I've been busy. The show that I'm in is going into our third week of rehearsals, with 2 1/2 hours of rehearsal three times a week. Everyone is hilarious, and I'm having a great time. As is with last winter/early spring, I'll be teaching classes with my family at a homeschool co-op. Last year, we taught 3 classes at one co-op, all day on Tuesday. This fall, we've got proposals in at three different co-ops, and if all the classes we've proposed get the minimum enrollment, we'll be teaching 10 different classes. I have to say, I'd really excited about this. Between proposals for Banned Book Club (something I've already started calling "the BBC" in my head), teaching American Sign Language to two different age groups, and all the other amazing stuff, I really can't wait to get back to teaching. Autumn, here I come!
In other news, I finally got my Pottermore welcome e-mail!
When it appeared in my inbox, I literally jumped out of my chair and went shrieking into the kitchen saying something to the effect of "It's HERE! My Pottermore e-mail! I'm MAGICAL!!!" Seriously. Best e-mail ever.
No spoilers will be in this post, so don't worry. I wouldn't do that to people.
I've completed the first book, and it was amazing. Being a die-hard Potterhead, just having some new HP related things, directly from Jo Rowling herself is amazing. Without saying any more, I just have to say that I can't wait for book two!
Of course, the question that seems to be looming over everyone's head is about the Sorting. I was so nervous and SO excited, so naturally when I reached that part, I was just a tiny bit nerved up. I've self-identified as a Slytherin since the age of 9, (over half my life, and over ten years), so I have some very strongly held attachments to the house of the snake.
I took ages to complete my Sorting test, because I wanted to give the honest answers SO badly without trying to skew the results (either subconsciously or not) in any direction. After agonizing over every question, I pressed the button to get my result, the screen changed over to a bright, brilliant and shining RED.
I was in shock. Gryffindor? The house that I've spent years of my life teasing? The one house that I said that I wouldn't be happy about getting into on Pottermore?
I'll admit it. I started crying.
After a while, I managed to pull myself together and began to come to terms with the fact that being placed in Gryffindor is not, in fact, a bad thing*, and that the fact that I've been sorted into a house that I didn't think I was in does not mean that my whole life was a lie.
Because of my Sorting, I've been taking a new, closer look at Gryffindor, as a house. Some of the stereotypically Gryffindor traits are not things that I hold very dear to my heart, but once I looked past the James Potter-esque contingency, I can see that Gryffindors are just as varied as I've been trying to convince everyone that Slytherins are.
So much of my time has been spent trying to convince people that Slytherins aren't all bad. There's a surprising amount of house prejudice out there, and the misconception of Slytherins as selfish, evil, manipulative, cold-hearted bastards who care for themselves first, foremost and only really bothers me. As soon as people find out that I am a Slytherin, I've had every reaction from people physically backing away from me, to giving me really odd looks and asking why I wanted to be a Slytherin, to telling me I'm "too nice" to be a Slytherin. I think it's absurd that you can be "too nice" to be a Slytherin, just as I think it's absurd that you can be "not nice enough" to be a Hufflepuff. People who are sorted into different houses are still just people, and they come in a variety of personalities.
We need to remember that we see the Harry Potter books from Harry's point of view, and that what he perceives is not going to be 100% accurate (can anyone remember his repeated accusations of Snape or Draco being behind everything that seems just a slight bit off?) and that Harry is a person, with his own experiences coloring his view of the world, including the houses at Hogwarts.
I've been trying to remember that (just like is true with Slytherins) there's not just one kind of Gryffindor. Remus Lupin, one of my favorite characters in the HP series is a Gryffindor. So I have to say that while I'm not exactly happy with where I got Sorted, I'm coming to terms with being a Heart Slytherin and a Pottermore Gryffindor. What a weird mix.
So thank you, J.K.R. Thank you for forcing me to look at myself differently, and for giving us HP fans even more to look forward to. Thank you for writing, and thank you for helping make people into readers.
I'll see you all on Pottermore.
~Whimsy
*Please understand that I have many friends who are Gryffindors, and I love them all dearly, it's just that's not where I saw myself being placed, and after living as a very proud and out-there Slytherin, it can feel not-particularly-fantastic to be told that you're playing quidditch for the other team, as it were.
P.S. If you're on Pottermore, feel free to add SilverSpell70, and if you do, leave me a comment here so I can know who you lovely people are. Cheers!
As is usually the case, I've been busy. The show that I'm in is going into our third week of rehearsals, with 2 1/2 hours of rehearsal three times a week. Everyone is hilarious, and I'm having a great time. As is with last winter/early spring, I'll be teaching classes with my family at a homeschool co-op. Last year, we taught 3 classes at one co-op, all day on Tuesday. This fall, we've got proposals in at three different co-ops, and if all the classes we've proposed get the minimum enrollment, we'll be teaching 10 different classes. I have to say, I'd really excited about this. Between proposals for Banned Book Club (something I've already started calling "the BBC" in my head), teaching American Sign Language to two different age groups, and all the other amazing stuff, I really can't wait to get back to teaching. Autumn, here I come!
In other news, I finally got my Pottermore welcome e-mail!
When it appeared in my inbox, I literally jumped out of my chair and went shrieking into the kitchen saying something to the effect of "It's HERE! My Pottermore e-mail! I'm MAGICAL!!!" Seriously. Best e-mail ever.
No spoilers will be in this post, so don't worry. I wouldn't do that to people.
I've completed the first book, and it was amazing. Being a die-hard Potterhead, just having some new HP related things, directly from Jo Rowling herself is amazing. Without saying any more, I just have to say that I can't wait for book two!
Of course, the question that seems to be looming over everyone's head is about the Sorting. I was so nervous and SO excited, so naturally when I reached that part, I was just a tiny bit nerved up. I've self-identified as a Slytherin since the age of 9, (over half my life, and over ten years), so I have some very strongly held attachments to the house of the snake.
I took ages to complete my Sorting test, because I wanted to give the honest answers SO badly without trying to skew the results (either subconsciously or not) in any direction. After agonizing over every question, I pressed the button to get my result, the screen changed over to a bright, brilliant and shining RED.
I was in shock. Gryffindor? The house that I've spent years of my life teasing? The one house that I said that I wouldn't be happy about getting into on Pottermore?
I'll admit it. I started crying.
After a while, I managed to pull myself together and began to come to terms with the fact that being placed in Gryffindor is not, in fact, a bad thing*, and that the fact that I've been sorted into a house that I didn't think I was in does not mean that my whole life was a lie.
Because of my Sorting, I've been taking a new, closer look at Gryffindor, as a house. Some of the stereotypically Gryffindor traits are not things that I hold very dear to my heart, but once I looked past the James Potter-esque contingency, I can see that Gryffindors are just as varied as I've been trying to convince everyone that Slytherins are.
So much of my time has been spent trying to convince people that Slytherins aren't all bad. There's a surprising amount of house prejudice out there, and the misconception of Slytherins as selfish, evil, manipulative, cold-hearted bastards who care for themselves first, foremost and only really bothers me. As soon as people find out that I am a Slytherin, I've had every reaction from people physically backing away from me, to giving me really odd looks and asking why I wanted to be a Slytherin, to telling me I'm "too nice" to be a Slytherin. I think it's absurd that you can be "too nice" to be a Slytherin, just as I think it's absurd that you can be "not nice enough" to be a Hufflepuff. People who are sorted into different houses are still just people, and they come in a variety of personalities.
We need to remember that we see the Harry Potter books from Harry's point of view, and that what he perceives is not going to be 100% accurate (can anyone remember his repeated accusations of Snape or Draco being behind everything that seems just a slight bit off?) and that Harry is a person, with his own experiences coloring his view of the world, including the houses at Hogwarts.
I've been trying to remember that (just like is true with Slytherins) there's not just one kind of Gryffindor. Remus Lupin, one of my favorite characters in the HP series is a Gryffindor. So I have to say that while I'm not exactly happy with where I got Sorted, I'm coming to terms with being a Heart Slytherin and a Pottermore Gryffindor. What a weird mix.
So thank you, J.K.R. Thank you for forcing me to look at myself differently, and for giving us HP fans even more to look forward to. Thank you for writing, and thank you for helping make people into readers.
I'll see you all on Pottermore.
~Whimsy
*Please understand that I have many friends who are Gryffindors, and I love them all dearly, it's just that's not where I saw myself being placed, and after living as a very proud and out-there Slytherin, it can feel not-particularly-fantastic to be told that you're playing quidditch for the other team, as it were.
P.S. If you're on Pottermore, feel free to add SilverSpell70, and if you do, leave me a comment here so I can know who you lovely people are. Cheers!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Week Thirty-Five: My Last BEDA post, and a wrap-up of the Unschooling conference!
Written on September 2, my first day with power since the 28th. Still no internet, but flush toilets are working!
[Edit as of 9/4: Electricity is back, and so is the internet. everything's working again!]
The conference I went to was utterly fantastic. I got to see some of my friends who I haven't seen since last year, and I got to meet some new friends who are equally amazing as the ones who I already know.
It was five days of hanging around with the most supportive, creative, and really genuinely nice people I can think of.
As it is usually, my conference was a mix of games, thoughtful conversations, music, and silliness. I did end up speaking on the panel, and I have to say that it was absolutely nerve-wracking, and I really can't see myself doing that again. My fellow panelists were amazing, and were great about letting me take the microphone and shove it into their hands when I couldn't answer the question we were asked. If either of you are reading this, please know that I am so grateful for how nice you were to me.
I did end up preforming at the talent show, in two different acts. I played and sung Here Comes My Baby as a solo act, and then I did a duet with my friend where we sung On The Rise from Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog. I have video of both those performances, and I'll probably upload them to YouTube and post them here when I get internet back again.
One night, we decided to learn how to dance Thriller, and I have to say, I have never had so much fun learning a dance. (Also, there's a LOT of pelvic thrusting that goes on in that dance.) We all got together and did Thriller together at the dance, and there was a group of maybe...15 people, all zombie-walking in synch. So. Cool.
Of course, just like last year, there was a LOT of playing Werewolf...and staying up to un-godly hours. It's also my one year anniversary of starting to learn sign, and it was SO helpful (and awesome) to be able to sit there in person and have a whole conversation with my ASL tutor and not even need to say a single word. It really showed me how far I had come in a year.
Going to this conference is rejuvenating. When every one of my age peers are getting ready to go to college, or finish up high school, or do something very school-related, it's nice to have a reminder that I'm not the only one who's continuing on this (admittedly radical) path.
It's hard to believe that I won't see a LOT of these people until next year, but I've made promises that we'll keep in touch on the computer, and for some of them, promises that we'll actually see each other in person more than once a year.
The worst part of the whole conference is giving everyone hugs and then walking away to your own car. I try not to become all melodramatic about it, but I couldn't resist literally hanging on to one of my friend's ankles when we had to leave him. Goodbyes suck. A lot.
At the same time, I know it's not a final goodbye, just more of a "see you again". Next year, it'll start all over again. A wonderful conglomeration of hugging, dances, late nights, games, conversations, new experiences, community, art, music, laughter, support, bravery, connections, and most of all, joy.
~Whimsy
[Edit as of 9/4: Electricity is back, and so is the internet. everything's working again!]
The conference I went to was utterly fantastic. I got to see some of my friends who I haven't seen since last year, and I got to meet some new friends who are equally amazing as the ones who I already know.
It was five days of hanging around with the most supportive, creative, and really genuinely nice people I can think of.
As it is usually, my conference was a mix of games, thoughtful conversations, music, and silliness. I did end up speaking on the panel, and I have to say that it was absolutely nerve-wracking, and I really can't see myself doing that again. My fellow panelists were amazing, and were great about letting me take the microphone and shove it into their hands when I couldn't answer the question we were asked. If either of you are reading this, please know that I am so grateful for how nice you were to me.
I did end up preforming at the talent show, in two different acts. I played and sung Here Comes My Baby as a solo act, and then I did a duet with my friend where we sung On The Rise from Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog. I have video of both those performances, and I'll probably upload them to YouTube and post them here when I get internet back again.
One night, we decided to learn how to dance Thriller, and I have to say, I have never had so much fun learning a dance. (Also, there's a LOT of pelvic thrusting that goes on in that dance.) We all got together and did Thriller together at the dance, and there was a group of maybe...15 people, all zombie-walking in synch. So. Cool.
Of course, just like last year, there was a LOT of playing Werewolf...and staying up to un-godly hours. It's also my one year anniversary of starting to learn sign, and it was SO helpful (and awesome) to be able to sit there in person and have a whole conversation with my ASL tutor and not even need to say a single word. It really showed me how far I had come in a year.
Going to this conference is rejuvenating. When every one of my age peers are getting ready to go to college, or finish up high school, or do something very school-related, it's nice to have a reminder that I'm not the only one who's continuing on this (admittedly radical) path.
It's hard to believe that I won't see a LOT of these people until next year, but I've made promises that we'll keep in touch on the computer, and for some of them, promises that we'll actually see each other in person more than once a year.
The worst part of the whole conference is giving everyone hugs and then walking away to your own car. I try not to become all melodramatic about it, but I couldn't resist literally hanging on to one of my friend's ankles when we had to leave him. Goodbyes suck. A lot.
At the same time, I know it's not a final goodbye, just more of a "see you again". Next year, it'll start all over again. A wonderful conglomeration of hugging, dances, late nights, games, conversations, new experiences, community, art, music, laughter, support, bravery, connections, and most of all, joy.
~Whimsy
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Failure, but not really.
Written on September 2, 2011.
Well, as you can most certainly tell, I failed BEDA. However, it was not for lack of trying on my part.
You see, I live in an area that pretty much got the crap kicked out of it by Tropical Storm Irene. Because of Irene, my family ended up staying an extra day at the hotel. Frankly, I wasn't complaining about that, because I got to go to the picnic on Monday, and spend more time with my friends who I rarely get to see.
When we finally made it home on Monday night, it was to a house without electric lights, flush toilets, a way to cook, keep food cold, running water for a shower, a telephone, and yes...no internet either. Prior to that time, I was feeling pretty good about BEDA, since I had written an extra blog so that if I was tired on Monday, I wouldn't have to worry about failing this project.
On the way home from the conference, it was abundantly clear as to WHY we had no power. Everywhere I looked, trees had collapsed on power lines, sometimes blocking an entire road. And I'm not exaggerating when I say you could not go a quarter of a mile down pretty much any given road before you saw another tree, upended on power lines. Driving around at night was particularly weird. No traffic lights, no friendly glow from people's living rooms, no street lamps, no floodlights on front lawns, just...nothing. After arriving home that first night, we all sort of stopped and stared at the sky. I'm telling you, it has never been so clear, and I have never seen so many stars. It was beautiful.
One of my mothers, Nay works for the power company, and she's still working 6am-10pm every day, trying to fix all the damage from Irene. At first, my town didn't have a single person with power. We were 100% dark. And we weren't the only ones, by far. As of yesterday, there isn't a single town in my state that is completely up and running.
I have to say, despite the fact that we didn't have any of the conveniences that we were used to, it wasn't all horrible. In fact, we actually had company staying with us until Wednesday. A couple of friends came back from the conference with us, and we had a lovely time. Hauling water from the brook to flush the toilet with wasn't fun, but sitting around a campfire and playing guitar, squeezebox and eating baked potatoes with friends certainly was. Our days were filled with music that we made ourselves, flying kites, wonderful conversations, and meals eaten by candle-light.
When something like this happens, it really shows you how many people care. We've had some really wonderful people who have brought us food, water, and let us use their showers.
I'm so grateful for my friends, my family, and above all, running water and flush toilets.
~Whimsy
Well, as you can most certainly tell, I failed BEDA. However, it was not for lack of trying on my part.
You see, I live in an area that pretty much got the crap kicked out of it by Tropical Storm Irene. Because of Irene, my family ended up staying an extra day at the hotel. Frankly, I wasn't complaining about that, because I got to go to the picnic on Monday, and spend more time with my friends who I rarely get to see.
When we finally made it home on Monday night, it was to a house without electric lights, flush toilets, a way to cook, keep food cold, running water for a shower, a telephone, and yes...no internet either. Prior to that time, I was feeling pretty good about BEDA, since I had written an extra blog so that if I was tired on Monday, I wouldn't have to worry about failing this project.
On the way home from the conference, it was abundantly clear as to WHY we had no power. Everywhere I looked, trees had collapsed on power lines, sometimes blocking an entire road. And I'm not exaggerating when I say you could not go a quarter of a mile down pretty much any given road before you saw another tree, upended on power lines. Driving around at night was particularly weird. No traffic lights, no friendly glow from people's living rooms, no street lamps, no floodlights on front lawns, just...nothing. After arriving home that first night, we all sort of stopped and stared at the sky. I'm telling you, it has never been so clear, and I have never seen so many stars. It was beautiful.
One of my mothers, Nay works for the power company, and she's still working 6am-10pm every day, trying to fix all the damage from Irene. At first, my town didn't have a single person with power. We were 100% dark. And we weren't the only ones, by far. As of yesterday, there isn't a single town in my state that is completely up and running.
I have to say, despite the fact that we didn't have any of the conveniences that we were used to, it wasn't all horrible. In fact, we actually had company staying with us until Wednesday. A couple of friends came back from the conference with us, and we had a lovely time. Hauling water from the brook to flush the toilet with wasn't fun, but sitting around a campfire and playing guitar, squeezebox and eating baked potatoes with friends certainly was. Our days were filled with music that we made ourselves, flying kites, wonderful conversations, and meals eaten by candle-light.
When something like this happens, it really shows you how many people care. We've had some really wonderful people who have brought us food, water, and let us use their showers.
I'm so grateful for my friends, my family, and above all, running water and flush toilets.
~Whimsy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)