Brother from Another Mother

How does it always seem to work that when you have a extremely busy day, one that should put you to bed early, you end up staying awake for hours past the time you should have? Or is this just me?

Yesterday, I worked a 10-hour shift. That’s a long time for me, who is typically a part time employee. Boss-Mark is on vacation, finally, so I have several shifts this week, culminating in a lot of hours. Work was somewhat stressful yesterday, as I only had a couple of cars on the lot, and a bunch of reservations, but I made it through the day. I was tired, as I close the door at 6:00 p.m, but I hopped in the car and went home and got Mark and then drove out to Genesee St to an Italian joint for Kevin’s birthday. The food was amazing and the portions were so plentiful that we will be eating pasta for days. When I got home, I thought I would go directly to bed, but I ended up not being able to sleep. And so, I texted Sahar who is 3 hours ahead of me currently as well as Kev, who stays up late. I told Sahar I needed to come up with something for the blog today, but I wasn’t able to brainstorm anything last night.

Then this morning I woke up and I thought- the characters of my blog!

I won’t mention Boss-Mark or Husband-Mark or the kiddos- they have all had many entries devoted to them. But it occurred to me that I often write about Kevin, and you may not know who that is. And since the other day was his birthday, today I introduce you to my oldest friend- Kev.

After I was born, it took a week or two to get me out of the hospital due to wet lungs. When my little baby self arrived home, there was another 3-month-old baby lying on a blanket on the floor. They laid me beside him. They took a picture. And that, my friends, was that.

My mother and aunt were friends with his mother, Sharon. The three of them considered themselves sisters, so it was no surprise that Sharon brought Kevin into our lives. It was no surprise that we were raised side by side in many ways, starting out in the same neighborhood as little kids, and then when Kevin and his mom moved to the suburbs, my family followed suit. I even ended up at my elementary school because that is the one Kevin was attending. We walked into Pre-K like bosses, already having a friend by our side while everyone else was crying and missing their mommies.

For a long time, I thought Kevin was one of my cousins. Eventually, I learned that Sharon was not a blood relative, but that never made a difference to me because the two of them have always been my family. I have always referred to Kevin as my brother, and I always will. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like we haven’t had fights. We’ve gone whole years without speaking, furious with each other over some crap that never ends up truly mattering. But even in those trying times, I think of Kevin as my estranged brother. Because he will always be the closest thing I have ever had to a male sibling. Before Bernadette, he was the only sibling I had at all.

I like to make a big deal of Kevin’s birthday even though he doesn’t care for it always. He doesn’t like to build things up too much because then if they fall apart he gets disappointed, which is an emotion I think we can all understand. He feels the same way about holidays, too. Alas, I care not for his dread! I will plan birthday parties; I will buy you Christmas gifts.

I have known Kevin for 40 years. Aside from my parents, he was the most important relationship in my young life. He still remains very high on the list of importance to me, and I have always told everyone Kevin is my deal-breaker. If you cannot get behind our friendship, you can get out of the way. This caused a little trouble on the dating field, because some guys I talked to could not understand a male/female friendship like ours. One assumes there must be a attraction element involved at some point, and I cannot speak for Kevin, but that is just so far out of the realm of possibility that we have never considered such a thing. I read an article once surmising that siblings do not feel attraction to each other because of their proximity to each other as infants and toddlers. I think this may be correct, because I have never been able to look at Kevin as anything other than a sibling. Not that he is not amazing! Do not get me wrong! Any woman would be lucky.

I am lucky. I am lucky to have had a friend that I can rely on. I’m lucky to have someone who gets every weird little bit about me and has never once judged me or held it against me. I am lucky to have a friend who gases me up when I need it and calms me down when I need it and always has my back. I’m lucky to be a friend who does the same.

When I finish this blog, I will Snap it over to Kevin. He will probably read it and say “oh, thanks bud!” in the way he does when I do something nice. I am so grateful to have such a great friend in him, and I trying to be a great friend back. All I know is that I have an excellent brother, and you should all be lucky to know him.

Happy Tuesday.

First day of prek.

My wedding

A Cup of Morning Dread

I’m anxious. I came down with something of the infection sort last week, which landed me in the hospital for a few days. This time, it was not really a matter of gastroparesis so much as it was me getting “regular sick” and my diabetic body throwing everything into overdrive. I feel great now, not a single symptom to be found, and yesterday I woke up chipper and glad to go back to work. Alas, on that front, I remain a little anxious

I have been working there for a year and a half now. I am pretty good at almost everything my job entails, save perhaps filing insurance claims because I don’t do it very often. Other than that, the only thing that makes me nervous about my job is having to move the box trucks, but that is another thing that is rarely needed. Mostly, I am pretty confident in what I need to do, which is interesting because I kind of feel like I am more in control of this position then I ever was working with kids. Do not get me wrong, I am excellent with children, but the job I currently have does not give me the worries and doubts that came with childcare. This is a great relief to me and my anxieties.

The second day that I ever worked there, Boss-Mark asked me to drive to the airport and pick up a 12 person passenger van. I assumed this was some sort of test, and also was absolutely terrified. The largest vehicle I have ever driven was a minivan, and this thing had twice the seating capability. I know that I gripped the wheel very tightly all the way from the airport back to our shop, but I managed to do it. Boss-Mark seemed please, and I never was asked to do such a thing again. Ergo, I assumed that it was a test. But, alas, I passed.

Well yesterday, this man tells me I have to drive out to Sheridan Road to pick up another 12 passenger. We were having a busy morning, because there is a holiday coming and a lot of cars were going out. The man who needed the 12 passenger had come in early in the morning, and wanted a nicer van than the one we had on the lot. He said “please, please do whatever you can for me, if possible.” I kept reminding myself of this as I was driving this scary van on the 90. I made it back in one piece, and he got his van that he wanted, and I was pleased. There is something about the customer service aspect that really delights me and gives me comfort. I get super excited to help people with their traveling. It isn’t something I expected.

Tomorrow I have a regular shift, but after that my week will be crazy. Boss-Mark is going on vacation for the first time in at least as long as I have been there. He has given me control of the shop for a couple of weekends in the past, and they have worked out well, so I am not too scared about the mechanics of the next week of my life. I am, however, terrified that my body will not agree with the circumstances. Fortunately, there is a gentleman named Bruce who will be assisting me this week so that I do not have to work seven 10-hour days, and that is very kind and helpful. Still, I cannot shake the worries and concerns that I have regarding my ability to stay well.

Husband-Mark tells me to put these things out of my mind or else they will fester and cause problems, and he is of course right. It is exactly what my mother would say, it is exactly what my father DID say. 

So, for the next week I will be consumed with work. I think that if this was a child care position, I would actually be dreading this, but because I so strangely enjoy my job, I am looking forward to it. They are talking about opening a new shop as well, which could mean more hours for me. Boss-Mark wants me to work at both locations, which would be pretty cool both monetarily and because I truly look forward to going to work. There is  very little dread with my morning coffee, which is something I never felt in the education field. My only complaint, my only wrench in this machine, is my health. So, I guess we just try to fight even a little bit harder. Some days, it seems like there is no fight left- but then reasons appear that make me want to get up off the mat and keep going.

I truly cannot believe that my silly little customer service job is one of the things that ended up getting me off the mat.

I Remain Lucky

My mother once said that when everything is on fire, you should take a second to appreciate the things that you have that are going well. Today is Valentine’s Day, so I’m going to give that a shot, because truly everything is aflame. Alas, I remain lucky.

My mother may have passed on, but my father and my sister remain at my side for as long as the universe will grace me with their precious souls. I am lucky that I have the two of them. I am lucky I have the kiddos, whom I adore and will fiercely fight for until the end of my time here on Earth. I am lucky that I get to say my 92 year old grandmother is still walking this planet, even if she does need a cane to do it. I am grateful that last week I was not sick on Wednesday night and I was able to go and read poetry, and I WILL be grateful next week, when I conquer a big week at work, because I know I am capable. I am grateful that my sickness only disrupts my life for a couple of days at a time instead of everyday. I am grateful for my home, and the comforts that remain inside it, that I am so lucky to have in a time when so many have so little. I am even grateful for my raggedy little SUV, with the big dent in the door but the engine that keeps on chugging.

I am grateful for my friends in ways that I did not know I could be grateful. Since Mom died, I have relied on them much more than I have in the past- if I did not have Sahar, if I did not have Beth or Kevin, if I did not have Carey or Chelsea or Jamie, I do not know where I would be. This morning, I texted Sahar and said Happy Valentine’s Day to the year’s real MVP, and I mean it. Even my husband knows the truth- my friends have been my kingdom.

And, my husband. I am so lucky to have someone whose face lights up when they see me, every time. Every time he sees me walking to a room, or come out of the kitchen with my coffee, he looks at me like it is the first time all over again. Mark is my diamond in the rough, my little Aladdin, and to many he may not seem like a precious jewel, but I assure you that is not the case. I am deeply lucky to have a person who loves me as much as Mark does. I know it is rare, and I am grateful.

Everything may be on fire, but so is the love that I have.  Happy Valentine’s Day.

Doomsday Preppers

My Tiktok algorithm has a tendency to take me down various rabbit holes. When I watch a video, I rarely take the information at face value, and almost always check sources. I was feeling a little unprepared, however, when many videos came across my feed discussing preparations for catastrophic events. I understand how such things came to be on my algorithm, as I have been following the conflict in Palestine, as well as many alien sightings around the world, not to mention all of the climate change content that finds me. So I was not totally surprised when I received more than one video telling me I need to make a go-bag.

Really, this is just practical advice for everybody, no matter what happens. I remember being a child and learning about fire safety. We were told to leave our belongings behind, crawl upon the floor if there is heavy smoke, as well as the famous Stop Drop and Roll. Another thing we were taught was to have a plan with our family in case a fire broke out in the house. We were told to do tiny fire drills like we did in school at our own homes. They taught us to be prepared for a fire.

Now, a house fire is a common occurrence compared to a global catastrophe. However, we do live in a world where such things have become possible. It is quite always “unprecedented times.” So, it makes sense to me to have a plan in place provided there is a catastrophe. Now, I of course have no money, and as I have written before, no desire to live through the Apocalypse. Ergo, I will not be retreating to any bunker that I have built underground in my backyard. The most logical thing for me to do in an event would be to run, because I know that houses do not provide the safety you wish they would when everyone is panicking. This has led me to the decision to create a go-bag. I will include this link, that takes you to a page describing what kind of bag you would need and what you should put in it.

The most important item is a radio. Originally, I was going to purchase a battery operated one, but after doing some research I have decided upon a battery/hand crank device. They aren’t even that expensive- this one that I am looking at on Amazon is only about 30 bucks. I also have a few cell phone charging batteries, and can get a lot of other supplies at the dollar store. This is the most economical and easiest way I can prepare.

I posted a poll on Threads. Nobody has a bunker. A few people have a go-bag, but most people don’t know what the heck they’re going to do. Many people are aware they need to do something, but are not sure of how to go forward. Here’s the poll:

I remember one day I came in to find Mark watching an Extreme Prepper episode. I wasted no time at all making fun of the people on the TV for their predictions of the end times and their desire for safety when that time came to pass, which they believed would surely be in their lifetimes. Back then, I found the whole thing hilarious and ripe for comedy. Now, I wonder if maybe they had the right idea.

I don’t mean to sound all doom and gloom. I don’t mean to scare anybody; I don’t mean to make you think that I have become obsessed with the end of the world. I have not. What I have done is take a look around and realize that what is happening to people all over the world could absolutely happen to me as well. There is nothing that makes us, comfortable Americans, any different from anyone else. We are not less susceptible to violence and chaos, we just haven’t reached that level yet. Sadly, was the rate we are going we will get there sooner rather than later. Me, I like to prepare.

So I ask you, dear reader, have you prepared at all? If a major disaster wiped out our power grid, what would you do? It is entirely possible, just as it is entirely possible that we lose our internet, that we could lose electricity completely. Hence, the hand crank radio.

I have written before that I have no desire to do the apocalypse. I have no desire to fight in a war, I have no desire to live through fighting on my own country’s turf. Yet, I also know how the desire to live in a human works, so I’m sure I will be sticking around for a little bit. For that little bit, I wish to be prepared. Yes, should real tragedy strike I will not live through it. Honestly, if I couldn’t get my meds, I’d be out of the game entirely. However, the will to live is strong and I would hang on until the last possible second. So yes, I will be making my go-bag. I will keep that and my croquet mallet by the door. (Fun fact, when M was a kid, he was always trying to figure out what to do with me during a zombie apocalypse. He suggested the croquet mallet, because he is a smart cookie.)

I feel like a lot of my blogs lately are either me on a soapbox screaming about injustice or me telling you about things that are happening around the world that are scary.  Just so everyone is aware, I am not in the middle of some sort of psychological slip. Typically, this would constitute manic behavior, but according to my therapist I’m doing just fine with what I am encountering. Doing the best with what you’ve got is all we can accomplish in life.

And so, I wish you a happy Tuesday. Go buy a radio.

Me and Jesus and the Long Wait

I had an alarm set for 12:01am, but I slept through it, naturally. The reason I set an alarm for that time was because that was the moment that Ghost City Press opened submissions for their summer microchap series.

As a constant reader may know, I have a little chapbook that I have been trying to get published for 3 years through a press that kept stringing me along. I sent an email out a couple of months ago to them, telling them that if I did not hear back ASAP I would start shopping my minichap around to other presses. It was a mild threat, because truly it is hard to get a minichap published. I was hoping they would respond promptly, but it has been months and I have heard nothing. The editor is active on social media, and I have tried to reach him there as well, but to no avail. And so, I decided to send my chap elsewhere.

A year or two ago I sent GCP a small collection called Weather Formations, which was really just a selection of poems regarding climate change. They were good poems, but I don’t think that the overall topic was interesting enough. In that, I do not believe they really flowed well together. Now, my minichap, Me and Jesus on a Tuesday Afternoon, is really just one nine-part poem. Ergo, the flow is really good in this one, as well as interest of topic. My only concern is that the poem is set in April of 2020, peak Covid, and frankly, a lot of people don’t love remembering that time. I am hopeful, however, that this will be a piece that others could recognize themselves in.

I started this poem a long time ago. It began with a contest, wherein I was given a line from a poem and told to write my own. I entered the contest with my poem, and I won! A little while later, that one poem kept nagging at me for more, more, more…and so I obliged. Thus, my little contest poem turned into a nine-page tale of me and Jesus Christ sharing a joint.

Oh, did you think this was about religion?

My book is not for the traditional Christian. The Jesus depicted is more man than divine, and if that bothers you, you probably should not read it. But, if you have a sense of humor, and you know Jesus was actually a pretty cool dude despite all of the atrocities carried out in his name, then you will probably dig this little chap.

So please, cross your fingers and hope with me. Hope with me that this gets picked up, because I need a home for my lonely little book, who has been sitting on a shelf for far too long. This is also the first thing I have sent out for publication this year, so that is a pretty big deal unto itself. I did not send out any thing last year, due to the circumstances of my life being more tragic than usual. I have every intention of sending more poetry to be published in 2024- after all that is the goal! More writing, less bulls**t!

And so, I wish you a happy Thursday, and I hope that in April I will be able to tell you when and where Me and Jesus will be available. Just got to stay positive. Have a great day!

If you think this photo is blasphemous, maybe don’t read my book.

WAR. What is it good for?

I should not be blogging right now. It is not blog day. Alas, I hopped on the Tiktok this morning and was sorely disappointed to discover that everyone on the planet is a goddamn idiot. So hang on a second, let me get up on this soapbox…

Listen, it is bad enough that World War III has started. No, you have not heard that on the news yet, because they are too afraid to tell us. However, there are major conflicts happening all over the world right now, and one of the main ones is being funded by our government- whom I believe are actually on the wrong side this time. Now, you are entitled to your belief that we should be involved in overseas wars, but I am not one of those folks. Bear that in mind as I go on.

After all of the Palestinian/Israeli news I caught up on this morning, I came across an article about Texas. Because obviously a World War is not nearly as important to their governor as the Civil War that he would like to start.

What happened is that Biden, of whom I am no fan, decided to open a park as a border entry in Texas on the country line. The governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, who is of course a Republican, said no. He then sent the Texas Guard to install barbed wire along the border in the park. When Biden said he can’t do that, because he literally CAN’T, Abbott said “too bad.” So, Biden gave him until Friday to get his troops out of the park, or else he will be sending in the National Guard. That’s a problem unto its own, but the bigger problem is that the other red governors are threatening to back Abbott with their own state guards.

For the Love of God, get over yourselves. Look at the bigger picture! Do you really care how many immigrants are let into the country when we could be nuked at any second? Get your priorities straight!

And all this talk of drafts! Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m not going. First of all, I have way too many health issues to even be considered for such things, and I am definitely out of the age range that you want. But even if I was a healthy 18 year old, you would be locking my ass in jail before I would ever get on a boat or a plane and fight for whatever is left of this backwards-ass country.

This morning, I had a discussion with a friend regarding a firearms. I have been staunchly anti-gun my whole life, for myself at least. I don’t believe I should own a gun, and I don’t really believe people in my position should either. However, I know how bad it is out there now because I am sitting here considering taking a gun safety course. Both of us, who have never considered getting guns in our lives, are now wondering exactly how much protection we need. That my friends, is the tipping point for me.

I do not believe in Zionism. To me, it looks like an orthodox cult that is living under misconceptions of reality. I mean, if I moved into my next door neighbor’s house and told them that it was mine now because God said so, they would call the cops and have me sent away. You just cannot behave as such. That is the basic principle of what is happening in Gaza. These Zionists would like to move into their home, but there are no cops to call, because they are Zionists, too.

And Texas! No, not my favorite state, in fact it is number two behind Florida of worst places in the country according to Brigid. How dare you, Greg Abbott, bring divisiveness and war to a people who did not ask for it! I’m sure there are many people in Texas who do not want an open border, and I understand that. That is your opinion. I do want an open border, and I need you to understand that is my opinion. I’m sure there are folks in Texas who feel the same way- but so many politicians have become so comfortable ignoring their constituents, that they feel they have absolute power in all situations, community be damned!

I hate over-reach. I hate when folks in positions of power use that power to undermine our government, as well as their people. This morning, I sent an email to my local politicians telling them that I will not be voting for them should they continue to vote for and put forth legislation providing money to Israel. I would like to remind folks again that my dislike of this supposed state does not extend to the religion of the people that live within it. I have no problems whatsoever with the Jewish faith, in fact I treat it with reverance due to my Christian upbringing. However, the fact that I was born Catholic did not earn me a house in the Vatican, you know what I mean? You don’t just get something because you say it’s yours, you have to prove it. And I’m sorry, the Torah is barely proof of anything, just like the Bible. The problem is not the faith of the folks committing the atrocities, it is the fact that they feel they are more deserving than others. And for that, I will never stand.

Every human being on the planet regardless of anything deserves the same human rights. Here in America those words are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I hope that other countries can try to find their life, liberty, and happiness. I know we are still trying, obviously.. I’m looking at you Texan. Alas, I do believe that I deserve those three things. I believe all people deserve those three things.

I am all for the spread of democracy, but countries need to take it into their own hands instead of relying on support and money from the US. If you want to look at us as a guidebook, that’s fine, but you definitely need to tweak some things because most of the time we aren’t 100% sure what we’re doing anymore. Our politicians do not reflect our community, and so on the world stage we are becoming a bully and a laughing stock. I deeply want you to know that is not the average American. The average American just does not want war, be it overseas or in our own backyard. The average American just wants their life, their liberty, and to pursue their happiness. We should all be so lucky.

PS- If you, too, would like to send a message to your politicians, I urge you to click on this sentence, which will lead you to a website where you can do just that.

Fly Away

Upon starting this blog, the time reads 3:39 a.m. I am not pleased with this. I would like very much to not be writing a blog right now, but instead be sleeping peacefully in a comfy bed, dreaming of taking a vacation. That’s what most of my dreams are: vacation dreams. Either I am on a cruise ship or at a resort, or a big hotel or camping in the woods, but usually I am away from my daily life doing something fun. Of course, many crazy and often scary things happen during these dreams in these places, but that is usually the setting. Vacation.

I need a vacation.

Boss-Mark asked me about my availability for one of the weeks in February. He is planning to take off an entire 7 days and go on a vacation with his wife, something he has not done in a long time. I have been working there for a year and a half, and he has only taken 3 weekends to himself. He is at the shop 6 days a week, 8 to 10 hours a day. The man deserves a vacation more than anybody in my opinion, because he keeps that shop afloat everyday of the year, without stop. So, of course, I obliged and was happy to cover for most of the time he will be gone. Fortunately, there will be a guy from a different shop coming in to help out, so that I don’t have to work for 7 days straight, but still it will be an experience. I am naturally nervous because of my health being what it is, but this is the week after my endocrinology appointment that I am very much looking forward to, so hopefully I will have some sort of game plan to get through it.

But again, I need a vacation.

Husband-Mark and I would very much like to take a vacation. A real one, not just across state to see his family, or a camping trip in Allegany. Those are the only trips we have ever taken together. What we hope for is a tropical resort somewhere, where we can go swimming in the ocean and have drinks with tiny umbrellas in them. We never took a honeymoon, and we do still hope to one day, it doesn’t really matter how long it takes. I have faith that someday soon our financial situation is going to change, and when it does we will plan a luxurious, all-inclusive vacation in a beach wonderland.

The last vacation I went on was to Salem, and it was less a vacation and more of a religious experience for me. Of course, it was wonderful to hang out with my friends and spend time out of my own town, but in many ways it was a pilgrimage for my soul. What I need is a cabin in the woods or on a lake, or a beachfront home I can relax in. I need to be able to shut down the anxieties that live with me on a daily basis, and I truly believe some beautiful scenery and a nice Airbnb would do that.

Perhaps I shall plan another vacation with my friends. Perhaps I shall plan a jaunt with my husband. Perhaps I shall pack my car in the middle of the night and drive it until I run out of gas.

Probably not that last one; don’t worry. I think we all feel that way once in awhile though, when the world gets on top of us and we just need a little bit of a break. I think that is what I am feeling right now, that I need a tiny break. Of course, it is my boss that needs a big break and I will be obliging him in the meantime. However, maybe after that, even just a night in a nice hotel would be a delight. I would use the swimming pool and order room service and sit in a big king size bed watching movies. Bliss.

My aunts are renting a house at the beach this summer, and I am so excited for them. Seriously, I am living vicariously through other people’s vacations. Sahar travels fairly regularly, and I love hearing about all the places she goes. I haven’t been much of anywhere, except when my sister and I went on a cruise to the Bahamas once. Other than that, I’ve been as far north as Quebec and as far south as DC. I have done most of New England, but I’ve only been as far west as Cleveland.

Most of my travels were as a child, with my parents. My mother has family that lives in Connecticut, and we would go once in awhile to visit. Once, we did a whole vacation out of it and traveled up the coastline together. Another time, my aunt Ka and I left our cousin’s in Connecticut house and went to New York City for the first time, only for a day though. Vacations were a luxury my parents did not really have the money for, so visiting to see family was a vacation for me.

But I tell you what, I would really like a real vacation right now. I want a mountain cabin, or some sort of beach situation. I want quiet and calm and peace and fun.

Mom always told me to plan, and then find a way to make it happen. She did that with the family camping trip that we took, as well as when I told her about wanting to go to Salem. They were bumps in the road with the plans of both of those trips, but in the end everything got figured out. In the end ,we made it happen. Perhaps I need to set forth some intentions for a vacation. Perhaps I need to make some plans.

Perhaps I need to go back to sleep. It is now 3:58 in the morning, and I should be fast asleep, but I don’t see that happening. I think what we’re doing is making coffee and scrolling through the socials instead. Ergo, I wish you all a very happy Monday. Here is hoping it sucks less than most Mondays!

Open Mic Night

Long ago, I wrote about my first experience at a poetry reading. I have also written many times about the open mic that I attend every other Wednesday, health permitting. I have discussed in length the levels of anxiety that these events bring me, and I’m proud to report that last night was not that bad! Usually, I am extremely stressed out by the amount of people in the room with me, and once I read my poem, I will have to step outside immediately for air. Typically, I will take one or two hits off of my vape first, still hoping to get myself back in the door. Alas, it have not worked.

Well, last night, I got there kind of late due to the foggy rain whether we were having, so when I walked in the door there appeared to be no seating available, and the sign up list was already halfway filled. I put my name next to the number 15, ordered a cup of tea, and went to the back to get a sugar packet. That is when I saw ann empty barstool tucked in the corner by the bulletin board and the water dispenser. It was a slightly awkward position because a few people came to get water, but mostly I was comfortable in my space, tucked in the corner away from the crowd.

I knew I had a while before I had to read, so until the performers started I simply went over my poem in my phone. I wasn’t sure if it was any good, but I did know it had a lot of emotion in it. It was a personally brave piece for me to perform, and so I did have a bit of anxiety regarding that.
But then, since I was sitting by the water dispenser, a few people came up and acknowledged me. One of these people was a poet I have seen before named Darwin, who I think is very talented. He asked me if he had missed my reading and when I replied that he had not, he was excited. This stirred my confidence, and I became more eager for my turn.

The time came and I stood up and started reading. I started out with a small, old poem about having chronic illness, and I meant to of course mention my chapbook regarding such things, but I forgot. Then I launched into a new piece that I have been working on, and that went very well. I personally think it has a particularly good closing line, and that seemed to be reflected in the response from the audience. I got a great deal of clapping and hollering, and someone screamed “We love you, Brigid!” I don’t know who they were, but I love you, too!

Of course, after I return to my seat the walls started to close in. I put my tea mug in the dirty dish bin, and I headed outside to hit my vape. On the way out the door, a guy grabbed my attention and told me he really liked my poem. I thought that was pretty cool of him to say, and walked out the door with a little pep in my step.

Outside, were Justin, who hosts the event, as well as Darwin and another poet named Nick. I heard Nick for the first time last night. He did a rap about a noodle dish he loves to make with his partner. I thought that was very creative. Justin came up to me and told me I did a good job, which was nice of him. Then Darwin and Nick and I talked for a moment, and Darwin told me he liked that I could write poems the way I did. I had said before I read mine that I did not write many love poems – rarely are there hearts and flowers amongst my work. I prefer to write “pissed me off” poetry. Darwin told me that it was the reverse for him, and so he admired my ability to write about anger. I, in turn, admire his ability to write about hearts and flowers.

Right about then, my brain did it’s crazy-brain thing, and suddenly I felt incredibly sick to my stomach. I decided I would take off instead of going back into the crowded and hot room, and bid I the gentlemen I was talking to with adieu. I walked back to the car in the rain, and drove home on foggy streets. When I got home, I talked to Mark for an hour about it. I told him it was the best reception to a poem I have received, and I was delighted.

The last time I went I read Monster, which has been published but is frankly difficult to find on the interwebs, so good luck if you want to read it. I got a pretty great reception for that one, even though it was an old poem that I wrote over the course of several years, long ago. Last night, I read a new poem, about the same situation of Monster, and the reception was even larger. I was blissful.

I think of my mother in moments like this, wishing she could come with me to see me perform, but knowing she is watching from wherever she is. When they clap for me at the cafe, I imagine her amongst them, cheering me on forever. Maybe that’s why I battle my anxiety every couple of weeks, and keep going back.

Happy Thursday!

“I sure hope my nightmares keep you awake.” -Brigid Hannon

Flowers in the Snow

I have already written about an ontological shock. This is some more of that, and I can guarantee there will be even more down the line, so here’s the deal: I started out this blog writing about memories regarding science and school and learning about the planet. I ended the entry atop a soapbox so high that I needed a ladder to get down. So, if you don’t read this entry, I understand. It’s not very light-hearted. But you should read the one about what ontological shock is, because you’re going to suffer it soon.

The classroom I am picturing in my memory is my third grade classroom at St Paul’s Elementary. I remember very little from this year because of unrelated traumatic events. I do remember this, however. I do remember sitting there with my science book and reading a lesson about how the Sun was a star, and stars eventually explode. I asked my teacher what would happen if the Sun exploded and she told me that life on Earth would end, because the temperature would burn everything. She told me that while the Earth’s temperature was rising, it was rising very slowly. She also told me that would not happen in my lifetime, so not to worry.

When I was a Junior in high school, I needed a science credit. My options were physics or Earth science, and while most of my peers chose physics, I chose Earth science because I hated math, and physics is just artsy brain-math. However, I was very bored in that class. I remember my teacher trying to get my attention, and trying to get me hyped up for special projects and such. Nothing made me interested. Once, she even offered extra credit if we attended a weekend field trip to the Penn-Dixie site. I did not enjoy it as much as I should have, because I was mad I was doing school things on the weekend just to keep my grade point average up. Another extra credit assignment I had was to do a project about the ozone layer. I wrote a four-page report, and I constructed a small Earth surrounded by the ozone layer. I made it out of a Styrofoam ball and blue Saran Wrap. I got an A.

Anyway, my point is that I studied climate change in school. By the time I got to high school, I was informed at the temperatures were rising faster than expected- but that still wouldn’t be a problem in my lifetime. Yeah, well, tell that to the six feet of snow outside of my door 20 years later.

Today I saw a political comic online. It was a woman reading a newspaper about global warming, while her husband stood by the door with a shovel and said “I guess I’m going to go shovel another 26 inches of climate change out of the driveway!” The group that posted the comic was certainly MAGA, but I laughed because of the ignorance. They thought the comic was making fun of the fact that it was snowing when the planet is “supposedly” getting warmer. I KNOW that the comic was making fun of the fact that people think that because it’s snowing the planet is NOT getting warmer. I know exactly why I have 6 ft of snow, because I learned the difference between climate and weather in school. I know that the rising temperature of the planet has caused the rising temperature of Lake Erie, so that it no longer freezes, which causes massive lake effect snow. I KNOW why “flowers are blooming in Antarctica.” (Though, not really.  It’s just grass in Antarctica. That online meme is a pic from Greenland, but still.)

I used to say that I didn’t understand what everyone was so afraid of, and now I can say that I do know better. Everyone calling climate change false is suffering from ontological shock. As I often write, fear is our greatest enemy and our greatest motivator. I know it seems scary to many, and I’m not saying I’m not scared, but I’m not going to deny the threat in front of me. Like, I can see the man pointing the gun in my face. I’m not going to deny that the gun is there. Denial won’t keep him from shooting me.

So for a long time, I have been worried about the planet. More so, I am worried about other people NOT worrying about the planet. Like if your roof was caving in and you had the ability to patch it, you would do so. But no, so many people want to pretend the hole is not there, that they will just stand under it until it rains.

Am I a hardcore environmentalist? God, no. I definitely do not do enough, I can tell you that. I am terrible with recycling, although I do try; I drive an suv; I use too many paper plates because I hate washing dishes. But do I think we should be continuing to pump chemicals into our air and water from factories for things that we don’t really need? Absolutely not! If you don’t have another way to do it, don’t do it. And I’m sure there’s another way to do it, it’s just not what some companies would call “cost effective.” Because as always, money is more important than human life, according to our government.

Wow, I truly did not expect to be up here. This soapbox got real high while I was standing on it.

Listen, it has come to my attention from events in the past year that we are all going to experience ontological shock at some point, even me, who is already on board with the aliens and the climate change. Think about it this way: Buffalonians, do you remember when we had the earthquake? We never have earthquakes, and it sounded like a plane crashed in our backyard. The whole city was talking about it for days. It happened, of this we are certain, of this we believe our scientists, and our senses. But what happens when you can’t believe your senses? When it happened, I did think a plane crashed in my yard. I don’t know why that was the noise my brain associated with plane crashes, but it certainly was not associated with earthquakes. Earthquake was my third or fourth thought. In that split second, I could not believe my senses, and I was shocked. Fortunately, I had the ability to pick up my phone and figure out what the hell had just happened. But what are you going to do when it’s so big that we lose internet?

I am watching the people of Palestine right now, specifically a reporter whom I am interested in who is unable to go live often or post because of intermittent internet in the region. You know they could take out our internet just like that…right?

I’m not going to lie to you like my science teachers did. They obviously didn’t mean to, and I do believe they were both women of science and that they were working with what they knew at the time. Climate change is happening in your lifetime. Ontological shock will be happening to you at some point, probably more than once. You are going to end up questioning a lot of things in the coming years, especially who we are as a species. It will be scary, yes, but if we work together we can get through it. If we fight and argue and are divisive, we will all die out there in the exploding Sun.

Wow, that turned out to be a pretty dark blog entry huh? Oh well, not everything is sunshine and roses. Some s**t is real and scary. Have a happy Sunday anyway.

War of the Worlds

I wrote this for my Patreon, but I decided to post it here as well because it reaches a bigger audience. So…

Hello! My name is Brigid, and I am a white, American, middle-aged woman with Irish heritage! Naturally, I am aware of my privilege and vantage point, and as such likely have no business speaking on what I am about to speak on. However, in the tradition of many white American middle-aged women, many who seem to be coincidentally named Karen, I don’t really care what people think about my ability to share my opinion, and will do it loudly and unnecessarily despite that privilege and vantage point, or perhaps due to it

So let’s talk about the Middle East, shall we?

Growing up, I went to Catholic school, which taught a very important lesson about Jewish people, and that was that they were our brothers and sisters in faith of God. We were both of Abrahamic faith, so there was plenty in common, and of course the Old Testament is completely about the Jewish people of the time, as the Christian values were not introduced until the New Testament when Jesus came down to play. So, I was taught to study the Old Testament in the same way Jewish children learn to study the Torah, which is essentially the same book. I was also taught in geography classes about Israel, and while they did not spend much time on it, it was told to us that this was the land promised to the Jewish people in the Bible.  Now, since I was in a Christian school and the Bible was treated as a legitimate historical document and set of rules to follow, we were also taught to believe that Jewish people deserved the land that they were living on.

Fast forward to freshman year of high school, when I took my first Global Studies class and learned about Islam. Mind you, I will still in Catholic school, but they did teach us about other world religions that year, and I found that to be quite progressive given the circumstances. When I discovered that Christianity was not the most popular religion in the world, I was very surprised. Until that point in my life, I had only ever known folks from Christian backgrounds and had assumed the only other religion was Judaism. It was a very eye-opening experience for me, and I became interested in other religions at that point.

Fast forward two more years when I am a junior in high school, and I am directing a show at a local theater. I’m assigned a stage manager whose skin color is significantly different from mine. While this did not rattle me, her religion surely did when she explained that she was Muslim. This was still pre-9/11, so there was no bad connotation in my head to a Muslim person. In fact, it only hearkened back to my Global class and my interest in world religion. Ergo, I found this girl interesting and decided to befriend her, and it was one of the best decisions of my life, because in the end she became my best friend.

Sahar was not born in Palestine, but her parents were, and her family lives in Jerusalem. She has traumatic memories of time spent over there visiting her loved ones, all due to the Israeli government. Knowing this information, and knowing the scrutiny and abuse that her family faced post-9/11, I have always taken her side on any Middle Eastern world event, because frankly she is smarter than me and knows better. And then came the current conflict in Israel.

When I saw the first reports on the news, I was immediately concerned for her family and texted her, and she said she was pretty sure they were safe from the fighting and the attacks. This was a relief, but this did not make me feel any better about the population of the Gaza Strip, especially considering that it is 50% CHILDREN (caps so you remember this stat.) Now, as I do when things interest me and become important in my frame of mind, I did some researching. I learned that Hamas was a terrorist group that has overtaken the Gaza Strip and is effectively ruling them despite Palestinians’ desire to be a free people. Their techniques are abominable, and they are hurting innocent civilians and people who are not even Israeli. But of course, I had to figure out why they were doing it, and then I became pretty outraged.

Of course, I do not condone any terrorist group, and especially any extremist groups of any kind. I take that to homegrown folks as well, like the FLDS or Westboro Baptist Church. To me, those people, despite claiming Christianity, only stand for discord and destruction. And, as I feel about many factions of society, at the core, I believe my problem lies with them thinking they are better than others, or more deserning.  Which brings me to Zionists.  

I didn’t know what that was until this all went down, but my research is leading me to believe that Zionists are Jewish folk who believe Israel has the right to exist on the land that they claimed 100 years ago. Of course, it’s not like no one was living on that land. So what they did, through military tactics even, was move the folks that were living on that land into a small area on the southern border called the Gaza Strip. Now, in doing so, some Zionists simply moved into Palestinian’s homes while they were away on vacation and then never left. Other Palestinians were met with bloodshed when they tried to resist and fight to maintain their homeland. Now, my ancestors were Irish Catholics who came over on boats in the 1800s, and since they got here so late, I’m pretty happy to report they had nothing to do with the colonization of America when we came and did exactly to the indigenous folks what the Israelis did to the Palestinians. However, I’m also not a complete jerkface, so I have compassion for the situation of the Native American, and I carry guilt that I don’t even deserve to have regarding it. So it surprises me not at all that people who were kicked out of their homes and moved to an essential reservation are mad about it, especially in the 20th and 21st centuries.

What really angers me is that during Adolf Hitler’s reign, he often referred to Jewish people as dogs and animals- which is what Zionists refer to Arabs as. Where in the hell do you get off? Just because you have been oppressed does not give you the right to become the oppressor! In fact, you should be fighting injustice against all people, the way people fought for the injustices taken against you. I have seen people claim that if I sympathize with the Palestinians, I must be antisemitic. Get over yourself. I care nothing about your religion, I care only about the war crimes I have seen committed against folks who had nothing to do with their own displacement. I do not believe any of this should be motivated by religion because I truly believe there is no place for God in government. I understand that things are different over there, so of course, the government is part of the religion and vice versa, but both religions practice peace- so why is it so difficult to have peace talks? My research has shown me so far that it is the Israeli government that has been immovable with thier stance on this, and as far as the Palestinian side goes, they seems slightly more open to talks but I can still understand the animosity they feel towards working with a government that has persecuted them for so long.

But what the hell do I know? Again, I am a white middle-aged woman from America with Irish heritage and the ability to Google. Nobody wants my opinion. Except maybe my best friend, who knows I will always stand with her when I see injustice being done to her kind and kin.