So I’m still hanging around. The computer and I have a love/hate relationship. We’re in the phase where he has to chase me, to prove that he loves me because I have been his bitch for far too long. But like many of my relationships, he’ll not play that way. He just sits there on the desk holding out, knowing that at some point, I’ll crave the communication he alone provides or I’ll need a new dress (because I’ve been going out so often lately) and I’ll log on to Nordstroms and salivate over the gorgeous frocks I could purchase if only I were back in the states.
I noticed the other day when I was rocking Max to sleep that I have inadvertently surrounded him with those things that have brought me solace and comfort throughout my life – books, family pictures, memories of San Francisco. I hope to be back in Northern California soon, to live the life that is in those pictures as opposed to reliving them in stories or in my mind in the quiet of his room. To quote the famous brainiac Denise Richards “It’s complicated.”
What I don’t want to bring into Max’s world is the level of disrespect that has become so prevalent in America right now. Why is it okay for Senators to shout at the President? Why is it okay for the republicans to incite violence and then hide behind “it’s just words” argument. And really, revolution? Over healthcare? Over your not so hidden racist “problem” with the Black guy in office. Are you fucking kidding me? Have we gotten so fat and happy that we fail to understand why revolutions are fought? Want an idea? Go to the Congo then come back and tell me you are ready to kill because kids can no longer have “pre-existing” conditions.
And thus my infinite well of rage has been pried open. I do try to keep a lid on it as to not burn all that surrounds and as long as I live the lobotomized life of the doctor’s wife in the wilds of the German countryside, bucolic and bland, tamed over centuries, I can do it.
Then springtime comes before I’m ready and those god damned birds start singing as the sun rises behind the thick layer of clouds and I start wishing for the .22 Calico I left back at Ruby Ridge.