Anyways, I am experiencing mover's block. I am surrounded by boxes, bubble wrap, and tons of stuff I need to pack and yet I am writing this blog. I concede that I am a tad overwhelmed. With less than a week left in Boston, I am feeling a little emotional and boy, does it show in fun ways. After a particularly stupid Friday night, I woke on Saturday to get my hair did and mosey over to the hardware store for stuff that rugged people like. You see, for awhile I was all into the idea of buying all new furniture when I got to Chitown. Then something got into me where I was sitting in my apartment one night, listening to the jazz station on cable, and feeling nostalgic about my art deco dresser and my desk. I had this grand idea that I would refurbish them and they'd come out looking great. So, last night I painted the desk a lovely dark cobalt blue and gave it a new drawer pull, while my dresser got new drawer pulls and a nice sand and stain session. Great. Ya know what, they look better, but I can't see either of them in my new place. They're either too big, too small, or just not right. So, all that work and $45 later and I will likely be listing them as free on CL tomorrow. Sheesh. Not to mention, my nails, face, arms, etc are still covered in blue paint splatters and little drips of furniture stain and polish.
As I was loading stuff in the basement to take to Goodwill today, I noticed a dead ratty on one of the glue traps. Oh grosscity. Oh, how I cannot wait to live in a place where I will never have to set foot in a basement, let alone have to dispose of a decomposing animal right next to my apartment. While I will miss the good times I've had in my little apartment, making meals and hosting friends, I will not miss my neighbors, the basement, the laundry room (where people are inconsiderate and steal dryer time and/or throw away their laundry detergent bottles when there is a recycle bin right outside the door), or the rodent infestation. While high rise places may lack soul, I feel I've earned my new elevator taking/no more dish washing by hand/washing my clothes in my own apartment existence. It's going to be rad.
And as much as I know that Chicago is going to be rad, I am starting to feel sad/very nervous. I'm sure this is normal (though the last time I had a comparable experience, I couldn't fucking wait to head to...you heard me right...Boston), but it's perhaps responsible for my stalling packing. There's nothing here I'm staying for, I guess I am just still overwhelmed that just a month ago, this was a dream and now it's happening and I have to have all hands on deck. It's wonderful, but frightening at the same time. I love and highly value the feeling and knowledge that I can pretty much do anything, weather any situation, but at the same time, it can drive you crazy with wondering if I'm too nomadic? My gut feeling is no - the world is a very big place and I knew long ago that I wanted to experience as much of life as I could. Does this mean that I am going to join the Peace Corps and be living in huts in Rwanda until I'm too old to walk? Nope. Does it mean I feel like spending time in a city that I'm not crazy about? Nope. Life, while actually quite long, is simply too short to spend time in a place that doesn't make you happy. It's like marrying someone you're just lukewarm about or working a job for 20 years that sends you home crying every night. Commitment and stability are excellent virtues and ideas - they feel good in practice. But only if they're rooted in something valuable to you. Keeping things the same (when they're not all that) because you fear the repercussions of change is silly in my opinion. Hence the foolish consistency being the hobgoblin of little minds shit. I'll miss people and things and places here, no doubt. But there's no cap on how much or how many things I can love. There's plenty of room for Boston to coexist with my fervor for Chicago. So, yeah. I'm scared (mostly of driving that truck). But I have to believe that life rewards risks - or, at the very least, that these moments build character. Or, at the very least, that Hays and I are going to have a hell of a time getting there and might meet a dog that needs rescuing along the way.
I'm still eating everything in sight, although I now blame this on my incredible emotional excitement over Obama's victory. Not only is it monumental for all of the obvious reasons, but it makes going to Chicago all the sweeter. The sweetness of victory is tinged with sadness for our LGBT pals, though. WTF - Arizona, Cali, and Arkansas? This gay marriage/adoption stuff really gets me fired up. If your life is so small and you feel marriage is the apex of everything, sure, I can see why you'd be threatened by other folks so unlike you wanting to get married. If you're so self-righteous to see marriage as something caressed by the Lord only for heteros, then yes, I can see why you'd be a perturbed. I can also see why you're fucking stupid and need to get your head out of your ass. See, last time I checked, marriage was about love. On Wednesday morning, I awoke to Facebook status updates from dumbasses that I grew up with saying, "we may have lost the war, but we won the battles to preserve the sanctity of marriage." OMG. Really? Because I'm pretty sure your husband - yeah, the one you met Freshman year at that Baptist college you went to for like a second to find a husband - is beating off to gay porn on the Rent-A-Center computer you kids have right now. I'm being fresh. I believe in marriage and think it's incredible. But I would never want to deny an entire group of people the opportunity to marry. And heteros haven't been doing so great at marriage anyways - hi, let's look at the Duggars, for God's sake. By the time you're done reading this message, they will have had another child. That's not a marriage, that's a breeding assembly line.
Which brings me to my more heated argument - adoption. Adoption is fucking incredible. It really is. Arkansas prohibiting gay couples or single folks from adopting is despicable. Yes, because letting kids languish in group homes as opposed to going home with someone who really gives a shit about them is good policy. I visited the Arkansas website for the Prop on Facebook and it was really awesome. By awesome, I mean someone with a very low IQ and logical reasoning skills put it together. "In MA, where they allow gay adoptions, gay parents are now received preferential treatment over straight couples." Really? Not really? That's a flat out lie. Perhaps they neglected the fact that gay couples are more likely to be open to adopting children of color; siblings together; older kids; kids with special needs. Last time I checked, most heterosexual couples were not banging down the doors of local social services for a crack addicted hispanic 8 year old with Autism. Right, because for those folks they want a little white infant, which is rare in social services. Which is why most couples (aside from those who, in my opinion, are fucking awesome) go through IVF bullshit and adoption abroad/adoption through private organizations long before they reach the last resort of going to social services. I'm not saying that I feel that social services should be seen as a last resort - no way - I plan on adopting from social services. There are great kids there. I'm just saying that it's statistically proven that most people want a BABY and that gay couples are statistically more likely to adopt children who are no less wonderful, but just might happen to have a few more behaviors/situations that others find challenging. So shame on you, Cali, Arizona, and Arkansas.
Now I must go and scrape the wood glue off my floor. Sticky stuff. Don't ask.
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