scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

24.11.03

went to a lovely little bar over the weekend ... tiny, tiny, tiny, one of those places with purple walls and a retro teenaged blues band and a little buddha statue high up on one wall and fat tire and a cappucino machine and a pretty good mix of, you know, normal people for once.

i like austin - there are so many people there with blue hair. there was nobody here with blue hair. but all the children from the college who came in - you could tell who they were because their clothes had abercromby logos on them - left real soon after they came in. there were several different groups of them - some didn't even stay for a drink. sooner or later, they'll all get the message and avoid the place, and normal people can be happy.

Labels: texas

scrawled @ 17:07

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22.11.03

portrait

Her legs look like a recycled patchwork quilt: here there are stripes going this way, here there are small dots, here there are stripes going that way, all sewn together with bare white lines, and lumpier in some places than others. At least she can walk; two of the nurses were killed, and one can't move. She still thinks it's almost funny that the people who tried to stop her from preventing unwanted life (life that probably would have ended rather badly, and rather quickly, if it had been left alone) could have such messy consequences of their own: but of course, their consequences are justified and in accordance with morality and divinity. Her results are clean, not nearly as bloody or painful, and are kept in jars.

It had been her day off. She'd come in because Cindy had had a cold and they were all taking turns coming in for her: when your immune system is weak you can't push it like that. The day had started well above par, with only a few protesters outside the clinic: the children's crusaders. They hadn't even yelled, much. And then, the routine: woman comes in, woman is counseled, woman has procedure, woman is counseled, woman goes home feeling somewhat empty and relieved, but also very crampy and weak. Next.

She counsels Laura, whose parents still don't know, and then Helen and George, and it's nice to see his support. She counsels Shakira, who sobs a bit, but is sure of her decision. She counsels Trina. She counsels Kellie. She counsels Almira, the only one all day who can afford the procedure out of her own pocket, and welcomes the change of pace. She counsels Kate.

The clarity in her eye, the lack of fear in half a face that still moves with joy and empathy and change, the control in standing without leaning on anything at all when she testifies. "I've been blown up," she says. "I cannot be intimidated." She defines the assault, the people that day, the poor woman who had been finished, and relieved, but was suddenly dying with shrapnel embedded in her skull just as she was promising to be protected, to reform. Just before lunch, pounding, bloody, full. Cement dust in the air like so much spilled milk, and fire yellowing the other side of the door so she dragged Kate to the window and the ceiling falls on her legs and on, apparently, Kate. And then a space of nothing. And the hospital and the police, and more police, needy, forcing.

Kate was done and was smiling, was bellyaching, was going home to take a shower. She suggests a bubble bath, stress relief, time to relax, time. Kate agrees. I need that. I think so. Then the clinic shakes, and the wall rushes towards, and everything is.

She doesn't resent that it was her day off; she is glad of it. Cindy is much younger and would need her legs for longer, and would take more pride in her legs as they are than relined with used skin. She is proud of her legs: she has survived battle, and is victorious. Her legs further the cause, because they are strength, and strength is necessary in movements. Any movement. Her movement.

She was in women's health before: now, she is in women's beauty. Magazines extol her. Rebuilt. Walking. Successful in the permanently Darwinian sense.

The hospital wouldn't tell her anything. She's an RN, she should be allowed to know that her legs are studded with exploded building like a granola bar is with raisins. That yes, a lung has been punctured by various ribs. That yes, people are dead. That we're very sorry ma'am but it's routine to take skin from some places and transfer it, so that there is less visible scarring. They did explain, though, to her husband, that there was such a high risk of infection that he could only be with her for a few minutes, and even that is risky, so much skin, so much blood, exposed muscle.

The building is flat. The ex-building. There aren't weeds, yet, in the walk or the ex-flowerbed, where they had had marigolds. She sighs and wonders if being blown up is bad luck if you're looking for a job.

Labels: writing

scrawled @ 17:42

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18.11.03

yay!

i absolutely refuse to stay in texas any longer than possible. the republicans are trying to declare it a christian state.

really. and, they want to pull out of the united nations. and abolish the national endowment for the arts, the environmental protection agency, the office of the surgeon general, the minimum wage, and virtually all taxes. aren't we such the good example of a democracy? they - okay, now i'm basically quoting - oppose any program that elevates the rights of young people to make sexual and health care decisions on a level equal to their parents. they oppose school nurses. how can you oppose school nurses? they want to get rid of needle exchange programs. they wish to encourage reading of the bible in public schools, and support a program based on biblical principles. they wish to remind teachers and administrators that corporal punishment is legal in texas. they "unequivocally oppose" the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. they urge the reversal of roe v. wade and are opposed to assisted suicide, but quite like the death penalty. they want to eradicate porn and support and applaud john ashcroft's efforts in that arena. under "promoting a freer society," they say that homosexual sex is a criminal act and that no-fault divorces ought to be outlawed. they reject the Kyoto protocol. they "support states' rights."

honestly. how can you oppose school nurses??

Labels: politics, texas

scrawled @ 21:34

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5.11.03

on my cubicle wall at work, above the computer, adjacent to the shelf, so it isn't easily noticed from the aisle, i have that nice black-and-white picture of a long-haired hippie in a turtleneck sweater protesting a war and putting carnations in the guns pointed at him.

it's very zen.

there's a nice thick catalog that'll be obsolete at the end of the year. several, actually. it'll make a nice footrest. or doorstop. they're effective doorstops. they'd probably make very effective recycled paper, but i don't think i have that option. unfortunate.

maybe i'll move to canada. they recycle there. they have gay marriage and almost-legal pot and national health care. not to mention vaguely sensible leadership compared to some places i could mention. and with global warming, it won't be so cold at all.

Labels: work

scrawled @ 18:05

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