Strength is Beauty

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 06:22:16 GMT

so...

i moved. not too much to say about that, except that the new space is slightly larger and significantly more refined, and it is currently satisfying my shark-like need to continually be in motion. i have been to target more times in the last week than i can count. i bought new bath towels; the old ones didn't match the tile, and have been relegated to a hook on the back of the door. i've bought light bulbs, cleaning products, blackout curtains, water filter faucet attachments, and everything else in between. i've spent more money than i should have, but home-making is almost an obsession for me, and i love it with a guilty passion. i want my place, even if it's just an apartment, to be a point of pride, a place i'm happy to bring people to, and share with my loved ones. so i'm working on that.

in other news, our chihuahua is pregnant. i think. i was researching labor tonight and came across a horrible discovery: pseudocyesis, or false pregancy, which is apparently very common in dogs, and almost impossible to discern from the real thing. after practically sending out early birth announcements and plauging my facebook friends with blow-by-blow updates on her progress for two months, i would look and feel like a complete jackass if the whole thing was just a strange, sad, hormonal ruse. so here's to hoping there are real, live puppies delivered sometime this week, because i swear i will cry otherwise. i spent the last hour rubbing her belly and feeling for what an article described as "the distinct hardness of a puppy's skull". i think i felt a few, but wishful thinking is not a thing to be discounted.

also, umm....work. work is good, the kids really keep me on my toes, or more correctly on my knees, which is completely fucking up my back, but it's okay. they're fun, they're crazy, they're irreverent and sweet and loyal and wild, and i love each and every one of them. well, maybe with the exception of one. but hopefully she'll grow out of it. i have pictures that i will post when i can dig the cord out of whatever box it may be stashed in . erinn thinks i'm crazy but really i just want everyone to get a little glimpse of the life i see in them every day.

i guess that's about it with the big updates. ive been a horrible friend these past few weeks, pretty much turning down every invitation because i'm either too exhausted, too stressed out, or too eager to see the girlfriend i barely see anymore to bother leaving the house. for this i apologize, and promise to improve asap. hope all is well in LJ land.

ps
it has not escaped my attention that there are at least two blatant spelling errors and innumerable grammar problems within this post. the fact that i'm going to post it anyway should tell you something about my current state of mind.

"Is it really the end of the world, or is it merely sad and disappointing?"

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 06:08:43 GMT

"Something just doesn't feel good. It's bad air. It's the lingering paranoia after a nightmare. The planet feels just half an inch off of its proper alignment, and it feels like everything is going to come crashing down. My life feels incredibly out of control."

^
That was what came up when I hit "Restore Draft". I don't even remember writing it, but it still makes sense. Life is still falling apart, although I'm trying really hard to wish it away with positive thinking. Right now, Erinn is again really upset with me. This weekend, completely ovrwhelmed by everything going wrong in my life, and left alone for two days with my own thoughts, I did something I haven't done in years. I cut again. Which was a really strange experience, and not as therapeutic as I had remembered. I guess you do outgrow vices. But I had promised her I wouldn't ever do it again, after she saw my scars and cringed one day. It was an easy promise at the time. But I made myself a liar, as I sometimes do. I just needed some comfort. But her face...she doesn't understand. To be honest, neither do I. And it was so incredibly not worth it. Now I just have these annoying scratch marks in various spots on my hip, not healing fast enough, not disappearing the way I wish they would. I feel bad for letting her down. I feel like I took myself down a notch when all I want to do is get a step up.
I don't know. Regret has got to be one of the worst feelings; you can't escape it. Time machines just don't exist, and hindsight really is 20/20.

I've been reading a lot...that's one of the few good things to report. I bought Suze Orman's Money Book for the Young, Fabulous and Broke which has honestly changed my life. I'm also halfway through Codependent No More by Melody Beattie, which started off slow but has me running out of ink for all the underlining I'm doing. It's been good for me. But it's also hard to see your flaws so perfectly outlined on a page. I have a lot of changes to make in my life, but it's hard to know what to tackle first. I need a job, but half the time when I wake up in the morning, I'm too depressed to get out of bed before noon. But not getting up, not pushing myself, makes that depression even worse. Do I focus on getting myself emotionally fit, whatever that entails, or fake it and get a job and hope it all falls into place? And what about my relationship, which has lately been just...hard? My worst fear has recently come true: to say "Maybe I'm just too much of a mess for you right now" and to hear back, "maybe so." I realize I am a mess these days. I certainly can see it. But that's not what I want for myself or for my girlfriend or for my life. So I just need to get it fucking together. So I say to myself, Sarah, Get Your Shit Together. And I just hope that mantra will do it.

In a lot of ways I feel like I've hit bottom and this is the inevitable push up, the knowledge that there really is no other direction but vertical. I feel vaguely hopeful. I'm registered for Pierce College for the Fall, to start the Vet Tech program, something I'm very, VERY nervous about, but also excited, which is a feeling I have so missed. As long as my relationship with Erinn can survive the next few weeks, and I know it can, we have a trip to NYC booked for the end of May and that's something to get excited about. Also, today somone up in Heaven mailed me a check, which I'm still not sure I'm entitled to, for almost $1,400, from the Social Security Office. I haven't received SS since I turned 18, when I stopped getting my father's, so I don't know what the hell that's about, but hopefully it's not some enormous cruel joke, because that money in my savings would really just make my life a lot easier.

I've been spending some time with friends, and that's been unbelievably helpful. I've discovered some new ones, and reconnected with old ones, and yesterday, we went down to Oceanside and got to visit Brenda and baby Susana, and I was reminded just how healthy it can make you feel to hold an infant. I got a little sun when I fell asleep on the beach and that's good too.

There are things to look forward to. I want to keep this optimism, and I want everyone to move forward with me. Including Erinn, whom I love with all my heart, as imperfect as we both are. I want to make this work. I've started the building of a life here with her, made a little family, and my heart is here. "Love does not consist in gazing at eachother, but in looking outward in the same direction."

I guess I'll lay down now and try to rest. I promised Jeannine I would go for a hike with her in Griffith Park tomorrow morning, and as tempted as I was earlier to cancel, I'm just going to go. What harm could fresh air and new company possibly do me? Tomorrow is another day. (I hope you're there with me.)

Sat, 10 Jan 2009 07:58:30 GMT

my nails are cut too short; my fingertips are hypersensitive, achy. i'm icing my breasts with frozen corn and contemplating more vicodin. going to bed.

breast update!

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 22:49:50 GMT

day 2...or is it day one? the first full day after surgery. it's been the strangest experience. i remember the doctor drawing on me, using a construction-type level and a measuring tape, the nurse trying to talk to me about movies but the xanax had me almost completly numb, and i just wanted to get things started. i laid down on the surgery table in just my panties and they put the i.v. in, which hurt a lot. someone talked to me about what kind of excercise i do, where i work, while the ceiling swirled over my head and my arms fell slack...when i woke up, i was back out in the lab room and a nurse with blonde hair was rubbing my shoulders and talking to me. it was so hard to open my eyes, i have never been so groggy. i asked for erinn, i remember. i think i asked how the surgery went. the nurse reassured me calmly, got me dressed very carefully, and somehow got me into a wheelchair. when i saw erinn at last, waiting for me in the doorway to the car, i have never felt more relieved. after getting home and taking my meds, we both just napped and relaxed most of the day. painwise, it really wasn't so bad. i was still really groggy, but in general felt pretty upbeat. i got really nauseous a few times, ended up throwing up twice, once while erinn was out picking up food, and that made me feel really helpless, but erinn's been taking wonderful care of me. last night she went to the store at midnight to get some fresh fruit to make me a smoothie, which was the only thing i kept down yesterday. what an angel. i feel bad because she's coming down with a cold and is exhausted. hopefully we can both recoup together fo the next few days.
this morning we got up and went back to dr orloff's so he could unwrap the bandages and take out the nasty drains that had been in...i thought both erinn and i would pass out when he detached them and they made this disgusting wet sucking sound. i watched the dark blood slurp down into the container....UGH. but i saw my breasts while he had them unbandaged, and they aleady look beautiful. i'm really very excited to see what they're going to look like when they're fully healed. they seem so.....small. i hope not too small. but when i look in the mirror now, even with all of these bandages, even with blood seeping through the surgical bra they have me in, i still just love the way my body looks. my torso is so long. my chest is so NORMAL. the shirt i have on, one of jared's old dress shirts, fits me comfortably around my chest. it's completely bizarre and strange, but i love it. i'm so happy i did it now, while i'm young and healthy and flexible, and when i have such a wonderful girlfriend to lov and support me. i feel good. thanks for all the well wishes, it's all very much appreciated and i'm looking forward to being out in the world again, new and much improved.

xoxo,
s

eyes forward.

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 06:54:00 GMT

i'm officially 12 hours away from surgery! considering, im remarkably calm. we spent the day doing errands, just being together. we filled my prescriptions, got some household stuff and food for the coming days, went to pasadena to exhange her ring (still haven't gotten it, i lost the card i bought it with, ugh) and had lunch at mi piace--an experience in terrible service, but who cares? it was just nice to be out together on such a beautiful january day.

anyway, now we're just sitting at home, erinn's playing guitar hero and i'm making mental plans. when should i take the xanax? (soon)when should i shower? (in the morning) what do i still need to do? (dishes, change cat litter, organize the bedroom...) what time should i get up? (9:30). in general, the situation feels very much under control. i trust dr. orloff to do a very precise and thorough job. although i do want to tell him in the morning that i definitely would like to be a D, not a full C as i had originally said. that way they still fit my frame, and if (when) i lose weight they won't get too small. so, please dr. orloff, give me really gorgeous breasts!

i'm really happy that erinn is going to be home with me all week. this has already brought us so much closer, and i anticipate it only getting better from here. when you put yourself wholly in someone's hands, trust them fully with the most basic of needs, it has to strengthen your bond. she told me tonight that by january of next year, she wants to be engaged and living in new york with me. i think that's a goal we can accomplish...at least i hope so. i want those things too, which i'm not sure she fully realizes. there are just some practical issues, including family issues, that are pulling at me that will take some work. but i want that, too. i want to get out of L.A. i don't even like it here. new york seems like the perfect place for us to spend our twenties, a great place for us to grow up and just live our lives, and i'm ready for that. i'm ready for a complete change. 2009 is definitely starting off with a vengeance, and i feel really good about it. i feel energized, excited, ready to face what's coming. my relationship is in a great place, i feel young again, full of hope. so i'm off to take a xanax and drink my last glass of water before my midnight cutoff time, and when i'm back here again, i'll be post-op, bandaged and probably feeling pretty sorry for myself, but i hope i remember this feeling: excitement, anticipation, the climbing of the stairs before the rollercoaster.

Sun, 04 Jan 2009 01:45:06 GMT

if i cough anymore, i'm pretty sure i'm going to vomit.

Sat, 03 Jan 2009 09:27:00 GMT

in three days, i'm going to be having breast reduction surgery. i'm really freaked out. i'm also incredibly excited. i'm just not sure what to do with myself as the day gets closer and closer. i've been really sick the last week or so and i feel like it's been both distracting and draining. this is such a huge event in my life, but i don't know how to prepare for it. i took some pictures for my girlfriend, for myself too, i guess. i bought bathing suits. i got a gym membership. tomorrow, i'll stock the fridge, clean the house, try to physically prepare: nest, make my home a comforting place to recover. i should go to the library. i intend to do a lot of writing. i took a month off of work and i don't want to waste that. i still need to fill out my disability forms. but that's all so practical and clear-cut, all deadlines and schedules and cut cheks. what about me? what about my heart, my gut reaction, my sense of self? part of me is so terrified that this will ruin me. what if no one ever remembers me again? these huge breasts are a part of me, they have been almost since i turned 13. they have defined me, not by my choice but by the opinion of the masses. sarah? the one with the big boobs? yes. no. not anymore. so yeah, i'm exicted to buy shirts. yes i'm thrilled to not be that anamoly. i want to look balanced, normal. i want my back to not hurt. i want men's eyes to stay where they should be. i want to look in the mirror in a dressing room and not pull and tuck and sigh and tear up. and this surgry is going to give me all of that. it will solve so many problems. and yet, i'm nervous to look in the mirror and see a body i don't recognize. what a mind-fuck that's going to be. and for my for girlfriend, too. will she still want me? will she want me more? will the trauma of surgery and recovery affect the way she sees me, like childbirth? it's all just so impossible to know. and that's what really stresses me out at night. three days from now i'll be going under anasthesia, under the knife, my body being cut and manuevered and altered irreperably. if i prayed, now would be the time. maybe pam will light a candle for me. that would soothe me a little, just knowing there was a flame burning out there somewhere with a good wish for me in its curling whisps of smoke..

Thu, 01 Jan 2009 06:22:43 GMT

happy new year, sarah.

this year.....my girlfriend was unemployed, and depressed, for four months and it brought us closer. she got a great job at a place dear to my heart. i got a job working at a huge corporate restaurant. i found some decent music. i painted the bathroom green. i made that bathroom my own with monthly withdrawals of $575.00. i cut my hair, and liked it. i cut it again because i can' stand to like myself, and butchered it. i had to use a color corrector. i only finished one book. i got really drunk and threw up...more than twice. i went to my grandmother's 80th birthday party. i came out to my family, officially. i had christmas without my grandmother, and loved it. i went to new york. i loved new york. i told the one i love that i would take the steps to move there, sooner than later. i almost had to get rid of my cat. i had a threesome with one of my best friends, and didn't react the way i thought i would at all. i grew up. i accomplished almost nothing in terms of my education. i cried. i helped out a family member in need. i nearly died every day. i got pulled over, and got out of the ticket. i was sick, a lot. i scheduled my breast reduction surgery. i paid off my credit cads. i made my first tiffany's purchase, and it wasn't for me. i sat in my girlfriend's new place of work and missed my uncle. i learned a lot about myself. i got a gym membership. i watched my savings slowly disappear due to a crumbling economy. i struggled to demand respect. i cut, just once, and lightly. i saw the election of the first black president. i went to a gay rights rally by myself after california voted to ban gay marriage. i found the song i want to walk down to the aisle to. i lost and found many friends, and came out feeling not quite like my old self, but strong and supported. i had the best birthday of my life. i got a tattoo. i went to vegas. i spent a lot of money. i made a little more. i found out what i actually weigh. i learned to trust my girlfriend more wholly. i took xanax, and loved it. i did not go to the dentist.

i'm 22, and my whole life is ahead of me. welcome, 2009. i've been waiting for you.

Wed, 10 Dec 2008 08:15:36 GMT

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? i bought some lovely paper this week, so i'm excited about that this year but in the past i've tried to make my gifts stand out by finding non-paper, non-bag ways to package. or at least something cool to top the boxes with.

2. Real tree or Artificial? we have an artificial, but i'm not too fond of it. i miss real trees, the smell, the touch (meaning that they don't give me hives like the fake ones), even the little piles of dead needles. the only thing is, now that i'm an adult, i realize how expensive real trees are for something that will, inevitably, die. we'll see what this year brings.

3. When do you put up the tree? we don't have a set time for it...after thanksgiving and before december 24th, please.

4. When do you take the tree down? much later than really appropriate. taking it down is just so sad, and leads to nothing but a strangely empty corner in the house.

5. Do you like eggnog? no, not really. it smells like bubblegum. but erinn loves it, and i hear it's good with alcohol, so that's okay.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? oh, it's all really exciting when you're little. i had barbie tennis shoes. i had a barbie pink corvette. my favorite was the barbie version of arielle (little mermaid) with her flannel pajama fin cover. i never really undrestood it, but i liked it anyway.

7. Hardest person to buy for? my grandma, i guess. it's not really that it's difficult to find something she'd like, it's more that everything she likes BORES ME to DEATH, and i resist giving it to her. is that bad?

8. Do you have a nativity scene? that would be weird...but if i could have live animals, i might consider it.

9. Mail or email Christmas card? mail. i think this is one of the best things about being an adult now at the holiday season. keep your eyes peeled for your card from the rippetoe-roundtree's!

10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? underwear. from my grandma. that she forced me to open in front of my entire family. i don't really want to talk about it.

11. Favorite Christmas Movie? does "Love, Actually" count?

12. When do you start shopping for presents? When I have money, and time. i hate crowds, but shopping online just takes all the fun out of it, so i'll have to brave the masses soon.

13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? not that i remember. i probably just threw it away.

14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? my grandma's homeade english toffee. drool.

15. Lights on the tree? is no lights really an option? i'm still partial to the old-school ENORMOUS multi-color light bulbs...i'm very traditional that way.

16. Favorite Christmas song? "river" by joni mitchell. iit's depressing as fuck, but it really sums up my feelings about the holiday season, and it's so beautiful.

17. Travel at Christmas or stay home? stay at home. the holidays are disturbing enough without sleeping in a strange bed.

18. Can you name all 9 of Santa's reindeer's? i don't think so. i can't even remember all seven of the dwarves!

19. Angel on the tree top or a star? ...star? is this a trick question?

20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or Christmas day? Christmas Day. i like to prolong the excitment as long as possible, so even if i beg you to let me open it early, don't let me!

21. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? trying to go to target to get cat food and being caught in a MOB. the crowds at this time of year are insane. also, the amount of food around. it's dangerous. how am i supposed to lose weight when there are 8 kinds of chocolate in my grandmother's kitchen?!

22. Favorite ornament theme or color? the classic multicolored lights on a simple green tree. simple, bright. maybe one day i'll branch out and do a monochromatic tree..maybe.

23. Favorite for Christmas dinner? i have almost no interest in Christmas dinner. we usually have the usual caucasion spread of either turkey or ham, potatoes, cranberry sauce, blah, etc. but this year might be different. my family will be out of town, and i'll be sharing the holiday with my baby, in my own town on my own terms. and i'm really excited about that.

24. What do you want for Christmas this year? something sparkly. a whole new wardrobe for my new boobs! gift cards. i want surprises! i live for surprises. it's not so much the actual thing as it is the you-thinking-about-me thing. so...yeah. sparkly, wardrobe-y gift-y surprises.

Wed, 26 Nov 2008 05:33:03 GMT

it's the end of november, and we're just now having our second rainy night of the year. i'm sitting awkwardly under a blanket; i've forgotten how to act in cold weather. maybe i hoped i wouldn't have to remember. winter has never brought much but anxiety and loneliness, a sense of deep isolation. cold winds blow against me aggressively, pushing me one way and then another. the distilled heat of my body, caught between my skin and my layers of clothing, creates a false sense of cushioning from the storm. the simple glide of a zipper will expose me to the elements, and i'm afraid they will destroy me. but maybe this year will be different. tonight, lightning illuminates the whole window frame, i readjust the blankets and rub my toes against the side of her foot which is tucked under mine. i'm not alone anymore. i don't have to face the cold on my own. maybe this time i can keep the chill from sinking into my bones. maybe this winter i can listen to the rain hit the roof over my head and not feel battered, but feel really, truly safe, and happy, knowing that even if the walls were to fall and the rain would come flooding in, i would be okay. we would be just fine. we can float.

school. drip.

family; slip.

money...plop.

responsibility: splash.

we will float...won't i?

Sat, 08 Nov 2008 09:45:01 GMT

the last few days, i've felt very chemically out of whack. it probably has something to do with the xanax i took a few nights ago, which was at first really fun, rendering me basically drunk without the nausea, and then incredibly relaxed...but when i woke up this morning, two days later still heavy and slow-moving, it sort of lost its charm. tonight i'm awake even though i'm tired. i wrote a very long and impassioned comment on a friend's journal but it failed to rid me of the agitation under my skin. i've felt very emotionally warped ever since the 4th, elated about Obama but shaken by other votes cast. work is unfulfilling, school becomes increasingly stressful as the realities of the semester's end draw nearer and my faults inch closer to being revealed. i don't know. i need to go to bed. i need to eat healthier and get my body back into a semi-normal state. i'll work on that...tomorrow.

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 06:38:19 GMT

This is the transcript of Barack Obama's victory speech, delivered from Grant Park, in Chicago, Illinois on November 4th, 2008. It's history. I am so hopeful that this will continue to be the voice that brings us together, and leads us out of the darkness we are in.

"
If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled — Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of red states and blue states; we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Sen. McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he's fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Gov. Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the vice-president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation's next first lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House. And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager, David Plouffe; my chief strategist, David Axelrod; and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics — you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to — it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington — it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn't do this just to win an election, and I know you didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime — two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor's bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year, or even one term, but America — I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you: We as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president, and we know that government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it's been done in America for 221 years — block by block, brick by brick, callused hand by callused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek — it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers. In this country, we rise or fall as one nation — as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House — a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, "We are not enemies, but friends... Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection." And, to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world — our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight, we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America — that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election, except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons — because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America — the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes, we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes, we can.

When there was despair in the Dust Bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes, we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes, we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes, we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes, we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves: If our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time — to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

Thank you, God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.

"

living history

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 04:00:48 GMT

i don't know when i've ever felt so confused and torn between emotions. Barack Obama was elected president last night by a landslide, and he gave the most moving speech i have ever witnessed. i sat on the couch and cried silently, tears pouring down my cheeks and into the corners of my mouth, as i listened to him and watched the way people responded to him. his words were crisp, sure, and full of HOPE. we're with him, he has gained our trust and we're filled with his contagious optimism. it was and is a very proud day in this country. i'm proud to be an american for the first time ever.

but at the same time, i'm so ashamed, and deeply deeply hurt by the passing of Prop 8 in california. i stayed up all night, anxious beyond words, watching the numbers, but also knowing that there was little hope. in the end, we came out more than five hundred THOUSAND votes shy of even breaking even. almost five and a half MILLION people came out, left their homes and put a mark on their ballots to tell me, scream at me, that they don't want me to ever be able to get married. my life disturbs and upsets them and they're going to do anything they possibly can to rob me of the rights and comforts they themselves enjoy. it breaks my heart. i'm not ALLOWED to get married. what it says about the world i live in is the most devastating part. it says that we're not accepted. we're not ever really going to be welcome. we're second class citizens in a country that prides itself on freedom and democracy, and that horrible gap plagues me. i take this failure very personally, and it has placed a deep mistrust in me. i don't know how to feel. i went to work today, and was briefly comforted by the common anger i found there, in that environment that is so liberal, but it faded quickly as i was reminded of the facts. this is not a representation of the world we live in. in fact, it's those exact encounters that led me to believe we had a chance when we so obviously didn't.

i want to get married. i want it so badly. i want a public proposal, wedding invitations chosen and mailed to our closest friends and familiesa, a sweet and romantic wedding on a golf course somewhere, the chance, just that precious CHANCE to be a wife. and now i can't. i don't know what else to say.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 03:46:46 GMT

I'm sitting in this bar, tucked into a dark booth like a secret in a sealed envelope, a small and almost invisible presence. Only my outline shows. I've been here before. In fact, I spent many of my most impressionable years in almost this same spot. Over three years ago, this may have been the exact booth I sat in with my Uncle, that last night that I was with him before he died, and was never seen again. And now, as a legal adult, I sit here again, and watch, over he rim of a wine glass, my girlfriend move swiftly and authoritatively, move around the room, smile at everyone. I wonder, if she had served us all those years ago, in that now imortalized meal, would I have seen her, caught onto her appealing, open aura, would I have developed a mini meal-length crush? The two halves of my life are merging so strangely.

When he died, I didn't call paula. I let her call me for hours, I smoked a small bowl of stolen pot and let my phone ring. I didn't even think of picking up the phone to call her, and that should have been the first, tenth, THOUSANDTH sign. But I ignored it. I waited until she ran the well of my heart nearly dry, until the day I walked into work and felt my heart catch on a girl I had never seen before, a tall thin girl with a heavy watch and a wide smile. Her smooth dark skin under shorts and a black tshirt brought me to attention and she held me there without knowing it. Although I think paula really felt she loved me, and I'm sure I broke her heart, I did what I needed to, I did what was best for me for the first time ever, and it came so easily to me. I went home with her that first night after drinking a lot and sitting in corners aching with unattended emotional desire, objecting to being left alone in the bed, and never thought twice about the girl who called me when she was free, never wanted to get out of bed to see me and, out of a deep-rooted insecurity, treated me as valuable property. I wish things had happened differently, and yet I don't. It's okay. I was young and pressed forward by an unattended need, and I went after what I wanted. And now, we lay next to eachother in a shared bed, kiss eachother goodbye when we go to work, and make eachother dinner. Our collective pets roam around our feet and sleep near us at night and we have a home together. I want to marry her. I want to stand in front of everyone I know and profess my dedication to her. I want to slip a band on her wedding finger and swear to never abandon her. This is my dream. One day soon. On that note, so my dream has some chance of coming true, please vote NO on california's prop 8. I really need your help, and the outcome will sincerely affect my life. Please.

I need to head home, wait for my girl to come home, maybe go out and get an after-dinner drink. I have some sexual favors to pay back, and a "weekend" ahead of me.

purge.

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 09:07:54 GMT

The water spills along the sides of my empty stomach, and the icy cold spreads across my belly. My body reacts violently, pinching me from the inside, reproachfully. As I gulp, not pausing to breathe, the liquid moves like a wild tide within; I am both fighting and encouraging the pain. The uselessness of the weight now sitting in the center of my body does not escape me.

Hours fell by the wayside as my fingers slid disinterestedly over every possible texture of fabric underwear can be made of. The lace began to feel dirty and I longed for the simplicity of soft cotton. Is that not attractive, sexy even? In the dressing room, the florescent light sank into the depths of curves I cannot hold my breath and make disappear. In the mirror, my eyes were flat, and my thighs: decidedly lumpy. I felt dejected, at a loss, knowing that although the material, draping from the hanger, was so beautiful and seemed so delicate, it would become distorted beyond recognition on my body.

(To think I came in here to find something to boost my self esteem. I must have been an idiot.)

I walked out with a bag full of basic panties, black knee-high stockings, a lacy garter and very fragile hopes, carefully, so carefully, folded among the fabric.

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 00:01:48 GMT

I've been acting so unlike myself. I've been pushed and taken to a place I haven't ever been to before, and its almost like watching a movie of someone else. I'm not crazy. I'm not drama. I'm good for people, I bring peace and happiness to your life, not anger and irrationality. This isn't me, and yet the situations I've been finding myself in belie that. I don't know what to think. More than even being sorry, I'm confused, ashamed of myself for letting things get so outside my realm of reality, so completely different from what I know myself to be. This isn't who I want to be. You know me better than this.