To My Dearest Sister on this most Auspicious Occasion:
This day marks the temporary Passing of the Pile. For generations, siblings have passed on their gently used vehicles to their next youngest of kin as it becomes less and less appealing to potential mates. Eventually this “well-loved” vehicle lands in the hands of the youngest in a state that only induces feelings of pity from dates and friends who have the privilege of riding in it. Some sociologists attribute this behavior to a certain ‘Modern Darwinism’.
Our Beloved Camry was built when our brother was first laying his foot upon an accelerator; permanently cementing the concept of driving was as a terrifying twinkle in my twelve year old eye. Now it is in your hands; you, who only knew the concept of “car” as the large machine that makes mommy and daddy yell at other large machines when it was conceived.
As with all well-loved vehicles, this particular pile comes with a few peccadilloes—ahem. Features, yes features.
1. Rust. Yes the undercarriage contains a bit of rust. This is a reminder not only of the interminable property of time, but also of the wonders of the air we breathe. Ferrous Oxide, the breath of metal. Isn’t it magical?
2. The Minimalist’s Door Handle. The state of this handle is, of course, not due to laziness on my part for not getting it fixed, but a tribute to frugality and adaptation. It also serves as a reminder that sometimes strangers are indeed strange, as I found out when the mechanic in Geneseo declared that his “dipshit son broke [my] door handle… c’mere porkchop!” (‘porkchop’ being his most affectionate nickname for his impish granddaughter).
3. The Dented Rear End. Sometimes we are not the most distracted person on the road. Sometimes that person is *behind* you. In all seriousness, this is why you should never crank your wheel while waiting in traffic for space to turn. Related to this is another feature:
4. The Midsummer Smell of a Spilled Soy Latté. Yes, I could have shampooed the carpet after that accident. Many people would’ve. But though my back pain subsided, this smell persists. Why? It is a reminder of human frailty and the crappiness of Caribou’s soymilk.
5. The Ripped-Out Speaker. Music has a transcendental property which occasionally alters our mood, renders us nostalgic, pensive, perhaps even transporting us to a different time and/or place. Imagine how much that property would be amplified if the music surrounded you. This lack of a drivers-side door speaker is clearly a safety feature.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to cover a deer turd in a thin candy shell (though I hear this is a delicacy served at most used car dealerships). I most definitely vacuumed the entire vehicle before handing you the key, even though this sent perhaps one of the Midwest’s most extensive collections of soil samples into the trash can.
Be good to her, and by “good” I mean better than the absolutely horrendous treatment given to her by your elder siblings. She may be a crapwagon, but by God, she’s our crapwagon.
With love,
Your Sister.
PS: Seriously though, I’ll be back for it next week.
(note: this was first posted to my Tumblr, where I realized that 500-word letters are best dealt with in Wordpress– oops!)
Filed under personal | Comment (0)on death and all of that
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still absolutely terrified, but the thing is that I’m starting to get it. I know a number of people who are dying right now of cancer. I’ve also had a number of friends in the past who have died of accidents or overdoses. The cancer is harder though. It’s hard to face someone who’s dying. Watch them look worse and worse. We like to deny death, it’s hard to look at it take over people we know and love. Sometimes we wonder if it’s an omen for our own life. Grief is so largely personal. So much about our own fear. I have a lot to learn about talking with people who are nearing death, and not dodge the issue when they talk. I think my relationship with God has helped a lot so far.
I just know there’s something after life. Something greater than ourselves. To deny that and leave our existence to chance is the highest display of hubris. I also know that life has to be lived in the most dynamic way possible so that when it’s our time, we can reflect on how much we have done and declare that we are ready for the next level. Until that point, we have to fight for life, treasure what we have. To not do that would be to disrespect all people as well as God.
I’m building a website for a friend who is deep in that fight for her life right now. She has extremely extensive cancer. Her legs keep giving out and she’s all swollen but when she writes, she has the most extraordinary sense of humor and is so full of life. It’s absolutely amazing. In the face of this all kinds of bills are coming that she can’t cover because her insurance is terrible and attributes everything to preexisting conditions. Anyway, hopefully a Chipin will be up soon and friends’ll rise up and throw in. I’ll link up here when it’s ready.
::UPDATE:: Netty died July 14, 2009 of a blockage. Her (now memorial) site is here if you would like to give to the family.
Filed under personal | Comment (1)¡¡BODA!!
Estoy haciendo un investigación sobre bodas en España. Mi novio y yo queremos casar en Barcelona. Esto no es un anuncio sobre nuestro compromiso (mamá!), solo es un investigación sobre si es possible. Si tienes sugerencias, recomendaciónes, comentarios, etc. ¡¡dígame por favor!!! 
The Post Where I Rant About The Murder Of Dr. Tiller
So, unless you live under a rock, you know that Dr. George Tiller, OBGYN was shot down in his church today by an anti-choice activist. For my cave-dwelling friends, here’s the story.
-a history of abortion-related murders of doctors
-a timeline of acts of terror wrought on Dr. Tiller
I’m still trying to sort out my feelings of anger on this one, so I’ll probably come back to it later, but one thing is certain: no matter how much we believe this country has progressed in the past year in terms of equality, responsibility, and being informed, there is ALWAYS part of society that lags behind. That part of society is fueled by hate, fear and ignorance and is very dangerous. It’s important that we always remember that we can’t dismiss them out of hand.
Filed under personal | Comment (0)Who to call when you have a funky disease…
Dear developmental psychology prof,
Thanks! You remember the other day when you were lecturing on ADD? You said something like this:
The best emergency room doctor you can have if you’ve got a weird problem is one with ADD.
You went on to talk about how an ADD ER doctor works best under high pressure and extraordinary situations where a lot of creativity and exploration into the issue is required. You also said that otherwise an ADD doctor would probably not be ideal.
So yeah, prof– I have ADD. Not in the whole “man I’m so scatterbrained today” kind of way. More like the whole “man that chick is smart but half the time she’s an idiot” sort of way. Or “I just spent 2 hours looking for my wallet that is in the freezer and am subsequently a half hour late for work ” sort of way.
But it’s also the “holy crap that was brilliant where did that come from” and “man that was fast! How’d she solve that ridiculously difficult problem in such a short time frame?” sort of way.
So yeah. Thanks for reminding me of the upshot. Here’s to hoping you and yours encounter an ADD doc when coming down with the new bubonic plague. Of course, you guys would probably come out fine, but my kind would most likely forget their facemasks.
-me
