i was gonna go to the grand ceremony at city hall this afternoon, the changing of the guard, the swearing in of the new mayor and council, but i just couldn't stomach it.
the changing of the guard hasn't impressed me since that time when i was six years old, and in london for the first time with my mum, on our way north to meet my grandma and grandpa who lived until they died in the small council (government sponsored) housing block. in london mum and i visited madame tussards, and i was allowed to buy one toy from harrod's, and then it was mum's turn and she insisted that we witness the changing of the guards at windsor palace. her enthusiasm was contagious, and i watched wide-eyed for this miraculous metamorphosis. in my six year old imagination i envisioned these fuzzy hatted, solemn faced men would actually transform .... into what, i didn't know. when the event was over, i was confused. i hadn't noticed any change. i tugged at mom's skirt and asked her to explain. (okay, i don't actually remember that i tugged at her skirt specifically, but it seems likely and it conjures up a cute little image). mom chuckled, (i'm guessing she did), and explained that it was a shift change, not an actual transmogrification.
i'm not sure i ever got over it. even now, today, i was all the way downtown but after i had a conversation about how evil the multi-million dollar starvation army are (apparently they refused to open their accounting books to bill gates and he declined support for them), and after i learned that both the sally ann and our place are no longer allowing for volunteers at their establishments, something about being listed as businesses rather than charities, then i had another innane conversation about whether we ought to have a tent city or not (let's just freakin' try it and see whether or not it works rather than all this ridiculous speculation while women get raped outside) my stomach started to turn, literally, so i decided instead to spend way too much on comfort foods (all vegan, of course) and lucky for my sanity i ran into kym, at the food store, who is also feeling the strangeness of these times. we talked about the dominant culture as a wounded dying bear, lashing out in freakish ways as it draws its last breath, the worst is yet to come with jamie graham about to take over the police department. we talked about the importance of looking after yourself first - not at the expense of others, or in a selfish way, but in an i'll put the oxygen mask on myself first so i can help the others kind of way.
i felt a bit better, but nonetheless i went home and stuffed my face and watched today's amazing race rerun.
when i checked my email, i discovered that newly elected lynn hunter is not interested in receiving my anti-poverty posts. got the vote, thank you very much, now fuck off. nothing ever changes.
the entire day has been wierd. whoever it is that arrives at 3:45 every single friggin' morning, to pick someone up from the building across the way (i know because last week i peaked out my window to see what the heck was going on), really needs to get that power steering fixed. for about two weeks now i've been awoken, nearly every single morning, just before 4 am, while some goofball pulls a u-turn in front of my bedroom window in a car that's desperately in need of repair. this morning it sounded like he was doing donuts, the horrid high pitched ssssqqqqqqquuuuuuuuuueeeeeee (i'm guessing it's a power steering problem) of his near dead vehicle actually incorporated itself into my dream. strangely, the dream ended with me waving a white flag and i couldn't get the sound out of my head after they'd left. it's akin to torture, this sleep deprivation, and i surrender! i actually wrote a note and tromped across the street at 5 am and posted a note on the building, asking puhleeease can something be done to change this ?!!!!?!! i don't know what else to do. if i wasn't a single middle-aged woman who's learned to be afraid of things like dark streets in the middle of the night, i might set my alarm and confront the dude, or take his license number and report it as noise pollution ... though i'm sure the police would prefer to lock me up rather than help me out.
i spent an hour in the wee hours watching frasier reruns and practicing some yoga and finally the screeching sound was gone from my brain and i went back to sleep.
then, this morning, i returned a phone call from the street newz message service. some guy named greg. i figured it was greg hartnell, phoning to talk about the tent city mess, but it definitely was not. this greg wanted to tell me what a disgusting piece of trash he thinks the street newz to be, we don't live in a dictatorship you know, how'd you like to live under communism .... blah blah blah. i managed to shut him up long enough to explain that the street newz is comprised of writings from people of various socio-economic standings, and he's most welcome to submit his opinion. after some more blah blah blah about how he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and those whiners should do the same, as if we're all given equal opportunities, i told him i don't have time for this and hung the phone up. it's a good thing i don't currently have any significant funders, they might request a more diplomatic approach. but i was being abused, and i just don't need that shit.
so i passed on the changing of the guard thing at city hall today. as i learned many years ago, there really is no such thing. we live in a patriarchy, a hierarchy, where decisions are made by a select elite few, who attempt to impose them on the rest of us whether we like it or not, or use expensive manipulative media to attempt to assimilate us all into their way of thinking. there will be no real change in my lifetime, though i remain optimistic about alternate universes, and i hope i can get to the end of this life without too much more suffering. ssssqqqqqqquuuuuuuuuueeeeeee ..........
