A friendly blog where feminists and their male allies can come together and discuss methods, tactics, and strategies for use in toppling White Supremacist Capitalist Patriarchy.

2.26.2007

BOO!

That's the sound a ghost makes, right?

Just another one of my, "Hey, I ain't dead I'm just busy with life" blogposts.
Since last I posted I have moved into my own apartment in sunny Kissimmee, FL and procured a used loveseat as well as a bed and some other sparse stuff for the place. Which doesn't sound like too much but I've been pulling rather over-the-top workweeks as the campaign I'm on rolls towards closure.

Other shit, like one of my biggest heroes (whether or not he shoulda been) leaving the organized left ('cause the unorganized are already organized, dontcha know- if that happy horseshit ain't blogfodder I don't know WHAT is)and ceasing to answer my emails or phone calls; the dissappearance of the Biting Beaver (though she has since popped up to say SHE'S been having fucked-upedness in her life); the lack of a social network of any kind other than people who are organizing me or people whom I am organizing; the fact that I have to register my car in TWO DAYS in FL in the midst of house visiting with committee people and... and... I mean, I'm kinda glad I can't stop because that means that I can't lose momentum. Right???

And I have grown rather detached from intelligentsi-left, as I've been slogging through the trenches in the right-to-work south, at the mouth of the lair of one of the biggest monster mice the world has ever seen.





Yolanda. I'm totally feelin' it.

Today Yola posted a rather succinct analysis of a frequent malaise of young, oppressed radicals- the one that makes us isolate from one another.

Too much stuff to do. Too little time. Overwhelming.

When I get home from work all I usually want to do is bathe, eat chocolate, and then listen to salsa or go right to sleep. I can't even make myself read nowadays. All of my creative juice is sucked away by my job. ALL of it. I eat and sleep and breath this work; I dream that I'm in the hotel cafeteria, that whether or not someone carries through with some key, crucial task is all up to ME.

I need a kick in the ass from my friends at this point; thing is all my friends are faaaar away.

That's all I can muster tonight. I have stomach cramps to attend to. And I really do have to go on house visits with a committee person tomorrow. (Just one of those little things that makes it all worth it, while swimming and milling around with all these "already-organized" people.)