Sunday Night Post
Friday night I did a reading for Inprint’s First Friday series, and it came out pretty well. I had a good time, at any rate.
I have to say, at this point, that I’m very lucky to have a lot of friends who are willing to support me in these sorts of endeavors. I have friends who, even when I tell them, “Oh, y’all don’t have to show up at this one,” will show up, anyway. And for that, I love them. Thanks to everyone who went, everyone who ate dinner with me beforehand, everyone who kept me from losing my purse or my chapbooks, and everyone who helped me celebrate at the end of the night (and let me crash at their place after that). I love y’all.
One of my kids is freaking out a little because we got home from Austin just now and found a giant, weird bug in their bedroom. It’s dead now, but he imagines that there might very well be another, lurking. Waiting. I told him if there was more than one, they probably would have come in together. He says no, they would have split up to cover more territory. I disagreed. If more than one came in together, it’s because they were scared to come in alone. So why would they have split up?
Who knows, really? But I do know that whenever I see really weird bugs outside, they’re alone. Really weird bugs are loners, I notice.
My boyfriend just showed up and disposed of the bug carcass. He said it was just a roach. A specialty roach, I guess. Now I, too, am scared that there’s more than one of them around. I need to get this place exterminated. I never did, upon purchase.
I got a speeding ticket on the way home. Fuck you, Waller County.
Okay, that wasn’t very nice. I take it back, because Waller County has a really good BBQ place and the people there are friendly. But still. I don’t appreciate getting stopped for the same speed that everyone else does on that highway. Even if I was speeding like a maniac. Really, I do it every time. When you have to drive to Austin and back, every single first and third weekend of your life, you want it to be over with quickly. You don’t want to dilly-dally at 65 mph. It’s more than half my Sunday gone, as it is, so why wouldn’t I try to save myself a half hour? I get about one speeding ticket per year, making that trip. With those odds, why wouldn’t I speed? I have no one to blame but myself. But it still gets on my nerves.
I did some writing this morning, but have a lot left to do before tomorrow night. If I want to get a new book sold, I mean. People are waiting on me. But I don’t have to do any writing at all… It’s all up to me, if I want to write something to sell or not. But you know that I do, so I will. I’m gonna get it done. This blog entry is just a quick palate cleanser.
Yesterday I found out that something I always want to do (but never let myself do) is something about which my boyfriend has massive trauma. So we had a major discussion about adjusting our expectations of each other as far as this desire/trauma was concerned. I was louder, but he still won. We didn’t do the desirous/traumatic thing. Next time the opportunity arises, I will do the thing by myself, without nagging.
(My friend Ashley said, “That was a big argument? It didn’t last very long.” No, it didn’t. They never do, which is a very good thing, and part of the reason I love him so much.)
Meanwhile, I’ve been studying a certain “disability,” because it’s something that one of my kids has, and it’s finally gotten to the point that I have to formally inform this new school district of the fact, instead of expecting the adults who work in it to understand and tolerate the difference on their own.
This sounds cagey as hell, I know. But I’ve been trying to decide how much of this I want to talk about on this web site. Obviously, I’ve never felt the need to talk about it before today. But now I’m starting to think that I might have been taking the wrong approach. There’s a time to keep things private, for certain. But then, there’s also a time to speak up about difference and add your voice to the ones who are already asking (shouting, now) for acceptance. You know? I don’t want to be a crusader, especially over someone else’s personal life. But I see now that there are people who need my help accepting difference. They need me to stand up and say, “I can accept this and even value it (and I wasn’t even required by the state to go to a conference and learn about it). Therefore, you can accept it, too. Just try.” And maybe, other people who already accept and value this difference will read my words and share their acceptance and experience with me, and that will help me feel stronger. You know?
But I’m pretty effing strong as it is, and that’s all I’m ready to say for now. I might not even say anything else.
What if I just said, “Hey, everybody out there – why don’t you try tolerating some difference this week? Just try it and see how it goes. You might be surprised.”
Even better, what if I just said, “To everyone who tolerates difference: Y’all rock. Thank you for being alive.”
Maybe I don’t say that often enough.
Back to work. Talk to y’all later.
