Thanks to everyone for the housewarming regards and the updated links. You’re beautiful and I like having you around.
It feels a little strange to launch a new site, considering the state of the world. A little less relevant than winning an Oscar, say. I’m at a loss for words. As in, there is so much atrocity occurring that I don’t even want to start. So much hypocrisy and arrogance and bitterness. And now just a lot of death set in motion by men who will never be remotely touched by the loss of these people. I haven’t changed that much since I was fifteen, not much in regards to war. This story pretty much says it all.
My stepsister and her boyfriend are still sailing around the world, just now leaving the coast of Africa. Here is a little of the e-mail they sent today:
“We went over 120 miles upstream without encountering another white person or sailboat and it was surreal, though on the way out we came across 3 other sailboats that were headed up river. And then that seemed surreal too. There were literally only a half dozen motorized vehicles on the river during that entire time. Everyone used dugout canoes and paddles, it was something else…
… We get very little news, and what we do get is often in a foreign language, but it sounds like things have gone a bit amok at home. We are quite safe here, the only thing people say to us when we say we are from the states is ‘oh nice country, will you take me there?’ but everyone in the street is glued to the news radio here and it seems like people are as conflicted about the war here as they are at home.”
I keep thinking about that Onion parady: “Bill of Rights Pared Down to a Manageable Six”. So funny it hurts.
I feel a little like the man I heard speak at an AA meeting tonight:
“I’m kind of having a hard time lately. I mean, as I was walking to the meeting I was feeling proud of myself for getting up and dressed and out of the house. But as I’m sitting here I look down at my feet and I see I am wearing two unmatched shoes.”
I understood.
And we keep living. We drive in the dark across a bridge stretching over the bay; a bridge that could explode, it could fall. But it won’t, at least not tonight. We drive with covered dishes on the floor of the car; food we’ve brought to share. We get lost in the hills of Oakland, following streets named “Snake”. We walk into a house and everyone calls out our name, as though we were regulars on “Cheers.”
Thanks to Jhames and Min Jung for hosting a warm party at their house. Therewerealotofgreatpeoplethere. And thanks to several blogger get-togethers over the last few months, I already knew half of them. I especially enjoyed hanging out with William Ted on the couch all night. It was the first time I’d stopped moving since I finished the film, and besides, he was great company. Welcome to town, Jhames. The Bay Area will never be the same.