Similar topic, different day!
The power went out only on my floor of the old, generic building for roughly a half hour and, of course, Antsy American emerged. It is 100 degrees in Wisconsin and all, but my God. I could live in Lebanon for fuck’s sake. I always have to tell myself that. I could live somewhere that’s being bombed, war sanctioned by the USA or Israel, country‘s whose leaders (note: I said LEADERS) are way too selfish, ethnocentric, and power hungry, or I could be homeless, or, shit, I could be pregnant with an HIV positive child, or I could have a rare ailment that causes me to constantly slap myself (I was watching Oprah today). I watched the 5:30 news because I was too lethargic to do much else before my 8:00pm Internet date, and the footage of Lebanon jarred me. I will never, ever understand how powerful politicians can allow such carnage. How can they watch limp bodies being laid upon stretchers, covered with thin sheets or heavy blanket, and think, “Hey well, fuck it, the other side’s not doing things my way, so I guess it’s just too bad for the innocents dying.” I mean really. The only war that has ever made sense to me is World War II, even though it too was atrocious. I can’t stand it. Israel always has to have its way and so does the fucking US of A! But sitting here so privileged with my new a/c blowing chill air on me, loyal, affectionate kitty at my side, food stocked in the refrigerator, car outside the door, parents’ house a half hour south, good friends minutes away, I can’t say that I would trade any of my American conveniences. I just wish I didn’t become so impatient after only being inconvenienced a few moments. We were talking briefly yesterday about today’s “instant gratification society;” that’s what my friend’s lady termed it. Yes I scorn my needs but I am a product of my environment. Super sped up, post postmodernism, where technology rules all, time is money! Money is time! And I need it now or I won’t be happy and I can get it now and those who can get it to me fastest earn the most money. Those who produce it quickly are in the lead. Those who have it first are those with the means, they’re the ones many wish they could be. The media pushes the products in our faces everywhere we turn. Don’t even try to tell me you ignore it, you don’t watch tv or go online. It doesn’t matter. You get gas for you car, you go grocery shop, you leave the fucking house. It surrounds us, it’s in us. Some people are better at resisting the urges, but the pull’s always there, unless of course you live in a small town, a really small town. Forgot to mention sure there’s places you probably can escape. But it’s really not going to happen in any average to large size city. Yep products of our environment. Good to recognize, keep it in check, don’t feel so guilty but don’t get so fully sucked into it. When I do I buy something I can’t afford. Like my $200 Habitual jeans. Because I had to have them, right then and there, instantly, because I wanted to feel good, because I was feeling let down by people, so the consumerist act cleansed me. Dangerous. But I am able to resist such urges very well most times. And now I have another pair of jeans that make me feel sexy sometimes. Man, where I am going with this???

War….I hate our foreign policy. But I don’t want to live anywhere else besides maybe a few cities in Europe or Sydney, NSW, Australia. I like my American conveniences damn it. I don’t want to run through rubble. I don’t want my lame building to be bombed. I’m too privileged. But what can I do? I don’t really have extra money to send to the Red Cross or anything right now, and I don’t know how trustworthy such organizations are, as they seemed to be engaged in some scamming after Katrina. I can self reflect I guess. I can educate myself. I don’t understand Hazzabullah (sp) and I need to find a resource to explain it to me. I have to combat my angst, anxiety, and lethargy. This whole past week has been boozing and socializing and TV watching. I was attempting to shut my brain up. America makes it easier to do nothing than something. That’s the part that’s hardest to resist.

Acting extra special extra extra American-like. I'm an impatient American most days but today, well, I reminded myself of Sam McPheeters in that one column he wrote for Punk Planet several years back. Working at home in an apartment that is cookie cutter claustrophobic is grueling most days. But working at home in an apartment that is cookie cutter claustrophobic on a day when it's over 90 degrees outside and your air conditioner is failing you is especially irritating. Sitting still and sweating inside with air conditioning running. Watching a soap opera while working. Leaving on Dr. Phil just to hear other peoples' voices (today a young woman confronted her mother on her crack use) and actually being enticed by Oprah's show about dressing to accentuate your body, with a particular focus on the right fitting bra. One lady was a 34A and had been wearing a 36D or something. I don't understand. But I'm in here in and it's sweltering and I am just determined to buy a new air conditioner AS SOON AS I GET DONE WORKING BECAUSE I NEED IT RIGHT NOW. I CAN NOT TOLERATE THIS HEAT ANYMORE. I AM JUST TOO SWEATY. THE FUCKING LAP TOP IS MAKING ME SWEAT MORE. MY DESKTOP IS FUCKED. I NEED A NEW A/C THIS FUCKING IMMEDIATE INSTANT. I am an AMERICAN! So first I head to the gross place because it's the closest, then I desperately try two other chain stores nearby even though I''m pretty convinced its a lost cause. I call my mom and ask her to call Target on Chase. They're out. I'm peevish. Very, very peevish. Why don't these stores have enough air conditioners for everyone!? They should.*I* need a fucking new air-conditioner. My last stop would be Sears, I promised myself, because I could not allow myself to completely succumb to impatience. They had a few left there but only 5300 BTUS and my step dad had just called from the Oak Creek Colders, where he could get one at 10000 BTUS for only about $40 more than the model at Sears. They had three total a/cs left there. I didnt bother with the mom and pop Ace I like to purchase things from. I called my step dad back and gave him the go, and turned around to hop on the freeway to drive down to pick it up. I just wanted to get it over with so my apartment that soaks in the sun so so much could perhaps cool down. And I want a house. My own house. A new house. Or a newer condo that's not a piece of shit. With some central air in it. I am 32 and days pass me by I feel nothing accomplishing nothing applying for jobs a lot lately but still there's no guarantees I just want to make like $30-40K per year. God that's so little and it still just eludes me. Tired of making do tired of relying on my parents tired of just about everything. Floating around in this unproductive abyss headaches all the time cant read cant write no insurance. WHINY FUCKING MESS! But if I can just get that a/c it willll alllll beee bbbetter. Yeah...
The box is bigger than I can handle but I insist on taking it to my apartment alone. I somehow manage to manuever it out of my car and into the back doorway of my building, and then I proceed to slide it around the corners until I am in front of the elevator. But then this stupid bitch walks in through the front door and beats me to elevator. We can't both fit in there with my huge box and so I sit and glower at her even though I can't see her because of the way she is standing. I don't have 3 minutes to wait because I AM SWEATY and I AM AN AMERICAN! The stupid bitch then peeks her head around and asks if I need help. A real bitch, huh?!? She's acting less like an American than me, but I tell her no. I am always determined to finish such arduous tasks alone. I'm single. I always do this shit. I ride my bike home with groceries in the basket and hanging from each one of my bikes handles. I've fucking carried a heavy desk home from the Office Max in Soho to my Brooklyn apartment. I have border line carpel tunnel but I will lift some shit when I need to.

I tear that box open and wrestle with the unit. It's way too large and heavy for me to lift. But I do. My back still aches. I have cut knuckles and a scratched up inner arm. I fuck around with the instructions for awhile, which just holds me back from completing my task. I finally heave the thing up in the space where the inefficient a/c used to rest, the one that leaked water over the place after I took it down. I excitedly plug in the a/c. I hear this loud sound, sort of like bbreakkka breakkc uuurhghghg breakka urugh. No a/c should sound like that. I turn it on and back off. My fan stops. The bathroom lights gone out. I've blown a fuse.

And I deserve to have to sit around in my underwear all night. I deserve the discomfort because I'm a FUCKING American. I call my step dad to tell him the thing doesn't work and he is up here in a half hour with a new one. It's on right now and its a little cooler, but not as cool as I would like it.

In Sam McPheeters' column, he'd recalled how after learning the Taco Bell item that he had ordered vegetarian had meat in it--he'd learned this by biting into the item--he drove back to the drive-through and screamed his head off at the Taco Bell employee. I think he also recalled snapping hard on a utilities representative on the phone. After describing these instances, he amusingly berated himself for flipping out over such trivial inconveniences. He berated himself for his Americanness. It was truly a great column, one of the only things I enjoyed in Punk Planet for months. I wish I had a copy of it now. I was so pushy at Sears. There was a crowd of people milling around the a/cs and I just pushed through them all and interupted people. Annoyed the sales clerks. But I had no time to be waiting while they helped other customers.

I truly disgust me. Oh well, though, at least I managed not to yell at any strangers.

Voter ID laws

Like many other states, WI conservative lawmakers have been trying to mandate that voters present a state-issed ID when they vote. At first I thought such a law was inoffensive and unproblematic. Who doesn't have a driver's license or state ID? I thought. Then my friend who is passionate about this issue explained that a lot of poor people who do not drive and rarely stray far outside their neighborhoods don't have IDs. I still couldn't quite understand not having some sort of ID because it's needed all over the place, but in this instance I needed to step out my own experiences for awhile, just like I encourage everyone else to do! I ended up agreeing with her that requiring an ID to vote seemed a bit biased against poor people.

On NPR today there was some talk of ensuring that acquiring an ID is free, but some said that processing paperwork could actually still remain pricey. No prices were quoted though. The commentator pointed out that neither side's argument can be substantially supported. There's been no widespread reports of "voter fraud" and there's not a lot to support that proponents of Voter ID want to oppress the poor. However, in Milwaukee last election, there were Republicans placing flyers in black, poor neighborhoods that said people can not vote if they have unpaid parking tickets. A stupid ploy, and yes, you have to be quite ill informed to believe that, but such a move does somewhat support those arguing against Voter ID. But then again, Democrats slashed Republican van tires so those people would have a harder time voting, so neither side is innocent.

I'm still a little unsure where I stand on this. Someone in favor of Voter ID tried to say on NPR that being required to show an ID brings a bit of "integrity" to the voting act that would entice more people to come out and vote. That made no fucking sense to me at all and of course he had nothing to back himself up. I just didn't buy it. And the general public aren't the ones engaging in voter fraud. Who the hell tries to vote more than once? It's the politicians that engage in the fraud. I say we just focus on paper trails and stop worrying about the IDs, I guess, even though I do think it's in anyone's best interest to have an official ID, just to have even in case the cops fuck with you. I mean a lot of poor people manage to wear designer clothes and stuff like that, so certainly getting an ID should be a priority. If this does go through, hopefully there will be groups educating the populations that would be most affected, and let them know there's another reason to get a damn ID!

Something I do to lessen my angst is to walk and bike at Estabrook Park. I ALWAYS have a few good wildlife encounters, whether it’s with a woodchuck, snapping turtle or just a baby bunny or chirping frog. Yesterday particularly rocked because I luckily viewed a great blue heron as it was fishing for minnows in the Milwaukee River. It was literally just a few yards away from me, and it never budged as I crept closer. Normally I trot down the rock stairs just to watch the people fishing and the water cascade, but watching the heron was much more engaging. Its legs are so super skinny and spindly; its beak is long and wide. I must have peered down at it for a good 20 minutes. It only flew away when an obtuse jogger ran by not even noticing it, but even then it only flew out to the middle of the river. I had to fight the urge to intentionally startle it--I love to watch them fly, because they are so awkward yet majestic with their huge wing span and prehistoric features. But I resisted my stupid, selfish human urge and just watched. No matter, because another heron sat underneath the low branches at the pond on the other side of the park, and as I was engaging in my routine of scaring frogs so they’ll chirp and leap (juvenile, yes, selfish, yes, but also very enjoyable), I excited it and it flew off, again, so close. I felt bad, but I didn’t see it there.

Of course I saw about fifteen rabbits like I always do, and a few were the tiny ones. They are so skittish and adorable! Lots of robins, a few kingfishers--I saw one dive straight down, head first into the pond but I don’t think it retrieved a fish--mallard ducks, crows, and seagulls. Plenty of squirrels, no woodchucks this time though. When I was lingering behind the pond, I heard a huge screeching noise. It wasn’t a squirrel or chipmunk (saw two of those); I thought maybe it was a bird but it sounded really peculiar. So I crept closer to the trees separating the pond from the bike trail and caught a glimpse of a red squirrel. CUUUUUUTE! Those things are smaller than half of a grey squirrel’s size, and they move much faster. This thing was just racing from branch to branch, wailing at the top of its lungs. I’m not quite sure what was provoking it, maybe it was me, but it was loud before I even came close. Discovering it was a nice surprise.

I really could just sit and observe wildlife all day. Someone should pay me to do it. I’d be a much more relaxed person! My original intent upon entering college was to major in environmental science, because I was very adamant about protecting the environment, but I scrapped it because I am dumb at science and math. It’s really unfortunate, as I could be doing something more active and less stressful right now. But I can still be an old lady bird watcher, and that works too.

My friends and I all vacillate between coping and not. One of them suggested that the rest of us move closer to her so that we can get to each other easier when we need help. Which is often, it seems. I like this idea in some ways; forming your own little community or family in addition to or perhaps in place of a biological family. Being cooperative and shit. We are all so neurotic. We are bothered by minute details and sometimes it feels like we have to pussyfoot around each other. Maybe that’s mostly me because I am so “sensitive.” Anyway…you don’t need to be married with kids to feel accepted in secure--it’s not the only way. I know this. Sometimes I feel towards some version of it. Not necessarily getting married, but partnering up with someone and maybe even being a step mom/adult role model. I can’t imagine a child coming out of me. Neurotic only child procreating? Doesn’t feel right to me. I think I’d just be nervous all of the time. And I wouldn’t want the responsibility all of the time. But getting to be around a kid or kids sometimes might be all right, I think, as I enjoy being around the 4 year old, 9 year old, and 13 year old who belong to other people. What am I talking about here? Oh, options. People marry and you don’t see them as much if you aren’t married. It’s happened to me a lot. I think I’d seclude myself a little bit if I finally partnered up with someone whose presence and support quieted my neuroses rather than riled them, but I hope I wouldn‘t become one of those people that dismisses their single friends’ problems as trivial, or someone who just could never “find the time” to socialize with those friends. But for now it might be nice to really take the initiative as friends to help one another. I can’t make someone who is “right for me” appear out of nowhere, and I really, really, really, really can NOT allow myself and go out and get drunk and fool around with guys I shouldn’t, anymore. If I want to get to know ago, no genital exposure the first time we hang. Kevin told me that, he is right! Ok I know I sound like a warped version of SATC’s Charlotte, but it’s something I think I might try…because the other way hasn’t worked out for me. And…oh yeah. So centering myself, hanging out, helping out friends, writing MORE substantial essays/stories, and challenging my comfort zone….this is what should be my focus now.

Ok now completely switching gears….So Friday I got my ugly tattoo covered up! My friend Verity kicks ass and you Milwaukeeians should give her some business. She’s on my friends page and I am gonna post the tat pics very soon. 3.5 hours! My first real tat, very very colorful. I like it a lot, but am anxious to work towards creating/finalizing an actual real piece. Afterward I battled the throngs of dumb, drunk, slow moving fucks at Summerfest. Allright, that’s harsh, as most of the people weren’t acting like assholes, there were just a lot of them, but still…MOVE! Get it NYC style people! SassyJ and I saw Cheap Trick--one of the few remaining real rock bands that can still rock it. I was really eager to see them before one of them gets all sick and croaks or something. Way in back we could see but the sound was shit, so we moved closer up on the side where it sounded really gooood. They played my favorite song, Taxman, Mr. Thief and it was not quite as good as on the Music for Hangovers CD, where they include “the bridge,” but it still sounded fantastic. After gobbling down a five dollar chicken pesto sandwich and washing it down with a small cup of Sprecher Micro Light or whatever it’s called, I felt pretty relaxed as opposed to near dizzy from lack of food and a bit of loss of blood. Of course they busted out with the crowd pleasers like The Flame, Dream Police, I Want You to Want Me, Surrender, and Dream Police. They played some stuff from their new album Rockford which sound pretty good, and they did their cover of Big Star’s song “In the Street,” aka the That ‘70s Show theme song. A few songs seemed too sped up, but overall they sounded good, to me. My fucking dumb ass wore this plasticy jacket from Old Navy that just facilitated the sweat, so the saran wrap covering my tat came off immediately. I was so paranoid someone was going to spill beer all over it. Probably wouldn’t have hurt it but I would’ve been upset. Some ugly spiky haired little dork spilled his shit on my on the way out and looked at me like it was my fault. So of course I had to tell him he was ugly. Ah, Summerfest, bringing out the best in us all! At least 2 of 3 times were more than tolerable. Oh! Also on the way out, I took pleasure seeing the cops escort out four bonehead frat boy types, you know, backward caps, baggie jerseys, jean shorts two sizes too big, sneakers…one’s drunken blond girlfriend was running alongside them yelling drunken at the cops, and what looked like one of their mothers, seriously, trailed behind them, looking equally drunk, but dazed. Classic Summerfest moment. Another good one was seeing one of the Milwaukee Characters my friends know come sauntering down the aisle, doing the drunk Summerfest groove dance, puffing on a cigarette and holding his cup of beer during The Flame, and then watching him choose which aisle of seats he was going to continue sauntering down in hopes of finding an open space so he could stand and actually see the band. Fucking funny. I couldn’t see shit, but managed to check out Zander in his cowboy hat and sunglasses, covering up that fried ass hair and face (I saw them REALLY close up in a Wal-mArt in Hales Corner awhile back--did I write about that?) and Rick Nielsen came to my side of the stage a few time. He’s a great front man, and he takes care of his home town.

Today I had the opportunity to hear Alison Bechdel, a very smart cartoonist, read from her new graphic novel, Fun Home, at Broad Vocabulary. She showed some slides and narrated them, and then she also explained the extensive process she uses to create each panel. It was really interesting to hear her talk about that. She’s just very nice and cool, and she even drew a little mini self portrait of herself (I think?!?) in my omnibus of her work I asked her to sign. Afterwards we went down to Palamino for very tasty bloody marys, and then over to a Polka Festival near my friend’s house. Holy Shit! They had a silent auction set up and it was the kitschiest, queerest, downright strangest and I hate to say it, lamest selection I’ve ever seen. Gift sets of Brut and Jovan Musk for Men! Toiletries that looked years old and like they came from the dollar store originally! Dozens of Christmas dolls and decorations. The gifts baskets for a cat and a dog were the best things I think I saw! Don’t mean to insult the people who donated the stuff; it was just bizarre! I think the bids were really low anyway, just to raise some money for the churches.

My friend was bummed the rib dinners--and that’s one pound of bbq ribs along with a baked potato, roll and corn on the cob--were sold out by the time he tried to order, but he seemed satisfied with the Klement’s Italian sausage. As we sat and ate, a grandpa squeezed past my other friend, and spilled a little Pepsi. He looked at her and exclaimed saucily, “Oh too bad! I missed ya!” Haha. Wrinkly old sassy old man. I love it. Then the Mexican preacher comes trolling past everyone, selling fiver raffle tickets for a dollar. The prize? A HUGE bottle of Jack Daniels. Yes. All of this, I saw it! Milwaukee’s South Side, it’s good for people watching. For some reason I thought it would be funny to drink a wine cooler, but it was just gross. Alcoholic jolly rancher.

So the finale of this grand event, for me at least, was when the “honkiest polka band around” began playing, and all of the old couples and little kids started busting their moves. This one guy was wearing these tight, dark jeans with white stitching and actual eagles embroidered on the flares, along with an eye catching belt and a tee shirt that read POLSKA tucked in. Another guy was wearing this too obvious hair piece. It seemed like he was trying to gain the look he had as a young man, which was sort of sad, but he was so cute dancing around, and once he walked past me and smiled at me. I love all of the grandpas! My last favorite was so confident and actually hardcore with his moves. He moves his granny all around and even did little kicks. Fierce! But watching this watered down revelry only proved interesting for a short amount of time. I liked it though. Got to try and respect how different people live and enjoy each other.

Shrill drunk 5 inch wide chick at the bar trying to push her way in between a 3 inch space between me and the boy who must have just turned 21--he really looks 16.

Reminds me of the time I pushed my way into a crowded subway car in Chicago--a Green Line train I think, no--Brown line. Because it was after work and I wouldn’t be headed west on the Green line after work. I shoved everyone with too much force. I thought I’d seen others behave similarly. I thought it was acceptable to push your way. No, I was wrong. I think you can nudge people, not push them. But for some reason I got really pissed off when the men inside shot me disapproving stares, said some shit like Calm Down. FUCK YOU! I trilled, projecting stress cued up from another 8 hours of unfulfilling work in a city that didn‘t envelop me easily.

This narrow, inebriated girl tried 2, 3 times to wedge herself in a space that would not fit even a nymph-like 9-year-old girl. I felt that specific form of irritation provoked when someone invades my personal space, the kind where my whole body goes on the defense and if I were a cat my hackles would be raised, a feeling that didn’t even emerge at Summerfest an hour previous. But I didn’t act. I knew she was all lit up, no point to succumb to irritation. I felt validated though, when the teenage looking 21 year old cried out, “Whooooaaa!!!” in a tone that did not suggest anger or irritation as much “It’s time to go!” Leave he did, with his equally fresh-faced friend. And the whiny, shrieky girl repeated to her friend, over and over, “THEY WERE LEAVING ANYWAY!”