Jay and I were sitting on the couch this morning when we heard whooping & hollering from outside. It took us a moment to figure out what that probably meant:
Brazil had scored.
We haven’t been following the World Cup at all, but it was down to the wire this morning, and we have a large Brazilian population in my town. I love that! So Jay and I watched the rest of the game, and cheered for Brazil — who won.
I was in Paris for the last World Cup, and I’m not kidding when I say there was not a single Parisian along the Champs-Elysees — just lots and lots of incredibly patriotic foreigners from everywhere — driving around with their flag, running up and down the street naked, save for their country’s colors, hugging people they didn’t know –just because they were from the same country, rooting for the same team. It was incredible, and made me a little jealous that we don’t have that same whole-country patriotism for our soccer team here.

I’ve said it before, goddess willing, I’ll say it again — I’m so grateful to be surrounded by so many wonderful people: :su:, jessie, reilly, and of course — jay. We’re having a wonderful weekend with my brother* and his girlfriend, danielle* (of clouds & tears).
Tonight we went to :su:’s for a bbq. I love how easy it is being with everyone. Su and I got to play like little kids, and hid behind the car* to surprise jessie as she walked up the road. and that we did!* danielle tried to convince jay that there was something alive in her salmon*, and the girls did a little dancing* in preparation for falcon ridge (jessie also got to show off her new festival flipflops* — su’s got pink ones, I’ve got orange ones). as the night wore on, ’skeeters came a’bitin’*, and people started getting sleepy*, so we went our ways.
One of the happiest, funnest parts of the night, however, was :su:’s little surprise: a birthday cake that looked like me!* how sweet, and fun, and tasty — the cake was yummy in my tummy, and the icing her mom made was homemade… nothing better than freshly melted chocolate. mmmmm! they got me fun gifts, too — the third season of SATC on dvd (which naturally means another girlie sleepover is in order), and my first real induction into the world of Red Sox fandom — a sox hat & a Hillenbrand t-shirt! do these kids know me, or what?
tomorrow, my brother and danielle head home, and jay and I head off to see rent, which I’ve been wanting to see for years. yay for happy weekends!
(* psst … the * means the link’s a picture. and damn, do they make it hard to read! oh well.)

My hosting company sucks. I understand the occasional downtime, but this was just ridiculous.
The weirdest thing happened to me last night. I was chalking it up to the glass of wine & the shot of nyquil, but I’ve never had anything like it before. I sat up in bed around midnight, and I couldn’t feel my arms. My head was muddled, I couldn’t breathe, and I really felt like I was going to pass out or die. It was so bad, I wanted to tell Jay to bring me to the hospital, but I couldn’t get myself to say it.
What freaked me out even more was that, for a few minutes (that felt like hours) — I had no idea where I was or where I lived. I knew I was “home”, but I had no idea where I was or where home was. Everything was really foreign to me. I knew it wasn’t NY or Vermont or Maine, but I couldn’t remember Boston or Massachusetts. And it terrified me, because I knew I should have known where I lived. It was like there was this huge void in my head that I couldn’t fill, and that scared the shit out of me.
It passed after maybe five minutes. I laid back down, but didn’t want anything or anyone touching me. I still felt like I was going to pass out.
Odd, right?

so I haven’t had any access to anything on my account for well over 24 hours — no mail, no web, no ftp.
grrrr.
but now it’s back, so — hi! I’ve missed everyone!

a delightful blend of cheese & seriousness:

1. The Short Sweet Dream of Eduardo Gutierrez
2. Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood: A Novel
3. Animal Farm
4. Atlas Shrugged
5. A Fine Balance

though I doubt I’ll actually ever get to Atlas Shrugged. I’ve had it for two years now, and it just scares me. that’s one damned huge book.
any suggestions for a must-read?

I’m starting to wonder — how much of who I am is really me, or just a me that other people make me out to be? or am I just becoming comfortable with who I am, therefore allowing more of me to be out there than I used to — and other people pick up on that? or am I becoming what other people think me to be? And am I only what other people make me out to be? Kind of that “the table’s only there because we think it’s there” thing — am I only what other people see?
I hate when introspective philosophical questions seep into my brain.

have you ever noticed that the more tired you are, the harder it is to handle things?
I wrote my mom a couple of days back, complaining that I was tired, and then rattled off a list of the million things I’ve got going on, somehow not connecting that the two were completely related. two drives to maine and a trip to colorado in one week (not that I minded any of them, it was just a lot) — and now all this:
tomorrow: training in framingham for the youth mapping project (9-1). get back to work to have meeting with youth surpervisors to plan orientation for new hires (3-5). karate (7-8). clean house for my brother’s arrival thursday.
thursday: be at work by 9 to set up for the youth mapping training (9-4). work until 10pm, or until I somehow manage to sneak out. try to see my brother and his girlfriend before I pass out cold.
friday: shop for food so my brother & danielle have something to eat while we’re at work. buy supplies for youth mapping orientation. youth mapping orientation 3-5, utec jam 7-11, cleanup until midnight.
somewhere in there I imagine I’ll get to see my brother. shitty, right? and throw in the stuff I need to do on the side — layouts I’ve promised, poems I’ve got to edit, house to clean, sleep to have, and nevermind everything going on in the next month or so. I’m really, really, really looking forward to vegging Saturday night at :su:’s. I don’t always mind being so busy — but I so need some really serious downtime right now.

if you had trouble looking at the new drew skin before, I fixed it. you should be able to see it now.

oh yeah.
when we were going through security the first time, the girl waved her wand everywhere over me. she asked if I was wearing an underwire bra — which I was. but then she asked if she could touch it! I was like, umm… I usually need at least a dinner and a movie first, but uhhh…sure. she even reached in and pulled between my breasts! hello! no gun in there!
I must look like some psycho, because I got pulled over on the way back, too. this time I had to take off my shoes and hand them to the guy! he ran a little q-tip thing on the insides of my shoes, and put it into the xray machine. I was like, dude, I crash my computer every 15 minutes, I’m not about to figure out how to put a bomb together!

Gotta love working with at-risk teens in Lowell — way too much gang crap going on. Shooting injures girl, 8, and woman. Yup, we know kids involved in these gangs, too. We have a streetworker program that reaches out to these kids, so they know of the situations and kids involved.
What drives me nuts that the kids are like, “This is what we do. We fight.” We had a whole meeting with them about it a couple of weeks back. One kid even said to me, “I don’t know what it was like when you grew up in your white neighborhood, but here in the ghetto, this is what we do.” Like they have no control over their actions, it’s simply a “way of life.” Bullshit. They’re floored when I say I don’t believe in violence, that if someone hits me, I will walk away. “What about your respect?” they ask. I told them I don’t care if someone who hits me respects me — I have respect for myself and no respect for them. And the kids don’t get it — to them, it’s all about saving face. In a world where they don’t get respect from many people, this is the way to make sure they do. To them, walking away shows weakness — to me, it shows self-respect and maturity. What they don’t realize is that they might get respect from their circles of friends and neighbors, but the rest of the world doesn’t see it that way. Damn it, it’s frustrating.
And it’s such a cycle. Instead of trying to stop a fight, every runs and gawks and cheers them on. I can preach non-violence til I’m blue in the face — I just don’t know how to help them see that there are better ways of solving things than throwing punches.