Occupy

And then there was the suggestion that meetings on Saturday be held earlier in the afternoon to accommodate some people who can't be out in the cold and dark of night this time of year.  I have heard lots of people express this concern.  All of a sudden there is an issue with the Jewish occupiers and the sabbath.  Why was this not a issue in the park back in Sept when it didn't get dark until 9:30 or ten at night.  I don't think it is much to ask to have one afternoon meeting in the week.  Ok, maybe Sunday then, oh no, no more meetings on Sunday. 

Eff you spellcheck

It wasn't so much an epiphany but more like giving birth to a nine pound stillborn emotibaby because it took me nine months to come to terms with the situation.  Peaceful acceptance and forgiveness are still on opposite sides of the Grand Canyon but at least the donkeys are packed.   I really didn't know how long it was going to take and I was beginning to wonder if it would ever change.  Life is change.  And I came up with a new word in my head too.  Emotibaby, an emotibaby is a whole bunch of emotions all wrapped up in a bundle.  Do with that what you will.

Ode to the Young

I curse you, 56 year old body
You betray me daily
Piles of pills
Herbs and supplements
Why did I not rebel
When I was young
It would have been so much easier

And so on....

So, late last night in a very cold park after a lot of people left, the GA passed a proposal that freezes all the money in Accounting for WGs...   Really?  Because y'all didn't monitor a couple of posers that stole money from the movement, now we all suffer?  Our working group never abused the system.  We were doing good things and only went to OWS for help when our donations of yarn dried up after the eviction.  We just want to keep working and representing the movement with a peaceful and welcoming face. 

All over again

Well the barricades are down but the tomfoolery continues.  I went down to the park Wednesday  with my cart full of knitting supplies and my chair ready to resume my activities in the park and I was told that there is a rule against chairs in the park.  Are you kidding me?  This has been settled.  The lawyers told me there is no such rule.  Well the "green shirts" persisted and after over an hour of talking and nagging, they finally convinced the police to try to get me to move out of the park.  What a scene.  There were occupiers, press, security and cops all over me. Me who was just sitting there knitting and teaching a young lady how to make an i-cord.  No one was able to show me the "rule" but under threat of being arrested for "trespassing"  I moved my chair a whole 12 feet onto the sidewalk and out of the "public" park.   I found this video on twitter this morning.  I hope there will be clarification on this matter very soon.  When I go downtown with my cart and chair, it takes me about an hour to get there because I have to find the very few subway stations that have elevators and then walk much longer to get to where I want to go.   Once again the lawyers have been called, waiting to see what happens now.

When life bites you in the ass

Life can take some strange turns.  I never thought that I would become an activist at the age of 56.  I found a simple place in the movement, sitting in the park and knitting.  Knitting things for the occupants of the park and talking to people that would pass by.  It was simple and peaceful.  Then all hell broke loose when the "powers that be" (at least for the moment) decided they didn't like what we were doing.  Now my park is gone and things have changed.  Now, for reasons that I don't really understand, people are looking to me to be in charge, to handle things, to lead.  That's not really what I signed up for.  I just want to sit and knit and chat. Simple.

A New Year, here it comes

Sometimes I wish I was still asleep.  Asleep in the sense that now I know what is going on in my country and in the world right now.  It is so disheartening to see what we have become.  Things started out in a way I admired, so peaceful, so welcoming.  Now, through what I suspect are infiltrators, all I see and hear is hate speech and anger.  What happened to the people who were so nice in the park?  What happened to my peaceful and nonviolent movement?  I want it back!

Writing this is one of the hardest thing I have ever done

To whom it may concern,

  I know that I have always put on a happy face and I say that everything is fine.  Guess what, it isn't.  I have been made to feel that when I had money, I was useful and now that I don't, I am not.  I always worked hard, lived frugally and I gave generously.  I have never been one to covet the latest gadgets or fashions.  The fact that I feel like I have been thrown aside may surprise some people but that is why I am writing this post.  I have looked for work but now I have given up on that.  I thought I had a lifemate but now I know that was all a lie as well. I am truly alone.

  Maybe I have too much pride, or maybe I am just to ashamed  to ask for help.  I know that if I don't tell anyone that I need something then I can't expect to get it.  You can't read my mind but you could open your eyes. 

  Here is what I can't put into words on the phone or in person.  I will use the written form to say what I can't say to your face.  I need help.  Plain and simple as that.  I am depressed and I find it hard to get out of bed everyday.  I am crying just trying to type this.  I won't be able to pay my rent next month.  I have trouble eating because 75% of my teeth are gone and I have one tooth that is infected and oozing green puss.  It has been like that for months and I had heard that such an infection can get in your blood stream and kill you. I have been waiting to die.  This seems like a better way than walking in front of a bus.  Since that has not happened I am starting to think maybe I am supposed to be here for a while longer for some reason even though I don't know what that is.

"You should apply for state/federal aid".  Yes, I know and everyday when I get dressed and think about going out and facing that bureaucratic staredown I go back to bed.  I just don't have the energy to try.

"What about your family?"  My family doesn't understand the depth of my depression.  All they saw was the physical mess in the house and not the mental/emotional mess I (I am a good actor and I do most of my crying in private) had become and they threw me out.  When they do reach out to me it feels like a hollow chore they must perform to make themselves feel better or a scolding about how I don't keep in touch.  Somewhere in the back corner of my brain I know they love me.  I just can't feel it right now.

Over the last three months I found something to do that did make me feel a bit better.  Knitting for Occupy Wall Street.  I felt I was making a contribution.  I met some nice people that seemed to like me.  I learned a lot about my country that surprised me and made me want to help change things.  The problem is, that until I get better, I don't think I can do much to help.  A 'cause' can't cure me.

Words hurt.  Actions even more.  I'm glad that you have a ...game/toy/coat/shoes/hairdo/house/job/car/vacation/dinner/dog/high score/opinion... but right now I just don't care.  Seeing all those things posted on facebook and twitter are just a slap in the face to me right now. 

I didn't write this to get attention.  I just needed to say things that were in my head the only way I knew how to get them out.  I suppose it should make me feel better.  I will wait and see.