Struggling Anarcho-mom

A dumping place for my feelings of inadequacy

Writer's Block: Random acts of kindness
What is the nicest thing you've ever done for a stranger? What is the nicest thing a stranger has ever done for you?

I gave someone a car once. But that was more because I couldn't sell it. The same with a motor home. I hate selling things. Probably the nicest thing I have done I cannot think of at the moment. Maybe it wasn't a big deal to me, but they really dug on it. I have no idea.

Two things that strangers have done for me have saved my life. The first one was a fellow from a chatroom. I was taking pills to commit suicide and posting to the chatroom. He private messaged me and ended up calling me on the phone. He talked to me enough to make me feel better and told me to quit taking the pills. I hadn't taken enough to do noticeable damage. So somewhere out there, Hack Benjamin probably doesn't realize how much that meant to me.

The second fella (always guys) found me and my soon-to-be husband on a mountain. We had tried to leave a certain 'illegal' gathering by walking from one state to another over a mountain and through utter wilderness. Definitely not the smartest move. We were headed on our way back from the mountain and eating roadside strawberry plants when this guy pulls up. We get to talking and he gives us bottles of water and bags of trail mix. It was amazing. He also gave us a lift into the next state. He may have talked a bit about aliens and alien detectors, but he was a good guy who saved a couple of stupid kids. Thanks guys. You both rock.

Oh how I love my walks
 In this issue of my ranting you will find about the controversy between the Russian olive and the cottonwood, the awesomeness that is the hidden city in my park, and even a special bonus, my recipe for washing clothes in our bathtub. So if you are feeling up to a long winded post about everything and anything that comes to my mind while reflecting on our walk, have no fear, click on the cut.

Step right this way!Collapse )

Does this ever happen to you?
Have you ever been strongly affected by something that isn't that odd? That probably sounds weird, but I don't quite know how to phrase it. I will explain. One night we were watching a short film on youtube called Still Life.

It was about some kid that takes some sort of pills while driving, ends up hitting someone, and proceeds to travel through a town of mannequin dummies. The dummies only move when he isn't looking. In the end he ends up smashing a mannequin family up with a baseball bat before realizing they were real people. The movie is rather freaky and I was watching it while coming down, so I had to pause it for a minute before finishing. We watched other movies and I forgot about it. Until I was in bed at night. I got so freaked out I had to call my husband into the room. It really got to me that things closed in while he wasn't looking. If you could look at your threat, it wouldn't move, but the minute you turned your head anything could happen. I felt an imminent sense of danger, like something was coming to get me that I couldn't see. It was always behind me. I didn't dare turn my head to look behind me. It was quite overwhelming.

Another time, at Christmas, I watched my brother eating some Hillshire Farms gift package my mom had given him. My brother is a big guy and constantly complains about gifts my mom gives him. So she admitted to me once, in exasperation, that she usually got him food as presents. For some reason that sparked tremendous guilt that I still feel kind of funny talking about to this day. Even though the event happened years ago.

Those are just a few examples. Sometimes things make me really sad. I may make fun of an ugly (fake) fur coat in a thrift store and then look over to see a woman petting the same coat lovingly. I felt so bad I ended up buying a stupid yellow hat that looked like a golden retriever. I kind of think I wore that awful hat as a sort of penance. But that doesn't really fit in with my philosophy of kharma and putting good into the world. Punishment doesn't mesh with kharma.

Anyway, thanks for reading my drabble. And feel free to comment. I love comments. They make me smile.

the uncanniest of instigators

Writer's Block: If I were president ...
What would you do if you were president or prime minister for a day?

Legalize it.

Meditations of a Blanket

I ended up staying up all night. The early morning light was streaming through the air, making everything look soft and wonderful. The world was beautiful. A new day was beginning. Infinite possibilities. I was considering putting on some pants and going outside to watch the day unfold. But I saw my blanket. It is a wonderful blanket. Blue and kinda dingy. It is just the right softness and has only one cigarette burn (no idea how that got there). It was laying there. Just laying there. I didn't need to unpack it or unroll it. It was as if my blanket was waiting for me.



Do you really want to read about my stinky blanket?Collapse )


Double Rainbows and Mystery Change
So, today we went to a family reunion with some half-family members. It was awkward. So as we were getting in the car to leave and we saw a dollar and three quarters on the messy passenger floorboards. The windows were opened someone must have dropped it in there. I KNOW we didn't have a buck twenty-five before we got there. And I doubt it was a relative since they didn't know what our car looked like. As far as I can tell, a complete stranger dropped it in our window. Which is awesome, because this is a tight month and we ran our of garbage bags a couple days ago. So things worked out. Perhaps a little sign from a higher-up to keep up whatever we have been doing. Though I am not sure what exactly that is. Holding our tongues with relatives, talking gibberish with random kids in parks, or just being at odds with the world in general.

Who's to know? Also, when we got back from buying our garbage bags we saw a double rainbow. We watched this video on youtube a couple weeks ago, so we couldn't resist running around the yard singing the double rainbow song. It was pretty fun. People in cars probably thought we were nuts. I realized something, I won't know those people in 20 years. I will know my son, and we will have  better relationship because of things like this. So too bad for everybody else. It was fun. Azimuth even tried to say "Double rainbow". It sounded more like "Da-ra-ra-ra". We knew what he meant.

We took pictures. I wish I could figure out my husband's camera. Maybe I will add the pic later.

So the Question Is...
 Ho can I live? I have identified two lifestyles that do not work for me. The suburbanite lifestyle and the dirt poor in wyoming lifestyle. I am tired of being here. I am tired of not having the money to do anything or participate in social engagements. I always figured I was poor by choice and I could get out if I really wanted to. But the commencement of the job hunt leaves me wondering if I have been fooling myself. Am I trapped in this lifestyle? Can an Associates of Arts degree change that?

I am so exhausted of having to choose which bills to pay each month. I am tired of arguing every time something gets lost in our messy apartment. I am tired of feeling embarrassed when paying for groceries with food stamps. And I am tired of amerika.

Sorry if anyone is reading this. This post is just a boo-friggin-hoo post.

Family Reunions - A Glimpse Into the Future?
I am not a big fan of family reunions. My husband's family have big ones and we find ourselves going to see his parents who moved to different country. We also have no money and end up staying at someone else's house, meaning we are in the middle of the action at all hours of the reunion. We also have differing values. We believe capitalism is a corrupt system, and it is immoral to possess wealth. Also, houses are spiritually draining and we do not extol the virtues of organic food to all who will listen. Did I mention we are the only agnostics in site, certainly the only antimonetarinaist anarchocommunists. And I definitely weigh the most.

That aside, family reunions are a wonderful way to see how you want to end up when you are old. The grandparents and great grandparents tend to become their habits. Usually, the female member of the marriage takes control and decides where to go and what to do. The male's decisions are taken into account, but the matter is settled in the kitchen, where the men dare not tread. 

Now anyone who has seen my house know that I am not confined to the kitchen and thus I do not rule from there. In fact, my family has to forage for their own food. And the parents split the occasional meal. I do take care of the dishes 100% of the time. But they do tend to hang out and get acquainted before being scrubbed and put away.

I guess the thing I have learned the most is that I don't want to spend my life worrying. I don't want to be the mother that has a perfect house and does everything right if that means I will be absent from my son's life or become a nervous nilly in my old age. For example, one of the grandparents experienced car trouble. It was a pretty stressful situation since it had broke down in the middle of a large street. But the way a couple of the people carried on, you would have thought somebody died. They were preoccupied the next day while waiting for the mechanic to call back, and were upset about having to be driven around. What's the big deal? Worst case scenario: They can't leave as scheduled. They have an RV and draw a healthy retirement. They do not loose their jobs, lose their house. Oh perhaps they will miss the next potluck at the next RV camp. But they sure do love the song with the line in it about gypsies traveling down the highway.

Anyway. That is just my gripes. These reunions are stressful. I had better go, they are all probably wondering where I snuck off to. Farewell for now.

Writer's Block: Back off!
Have you ever witnessed someone being bullied and just walked away? Have you ever gone out of your way to help someone who was being bullied? How do you think it impacted you and the person being bullied?

I will never forget the day I was swinging with a girl in our trailer court and one of the bigger kids was making a lot of noise about how pissed he was at some kid. I can't remember if they tricked him into coming or if he just happened by, but Wes came walking up the road. I didn't know him. I had only overheard his name. My friend told me to just keep swinging. I watched out of the corner of my eye while the boy charged him and pulled some crazy wrestling move. Wes eventually got up and ran away. When everyone else left we quit swinging and went home.

To this day I feel terrible and my throat feels all tight when I think about it. The worst part is, I don't know what I would do differently today. So there is my dirty secret and my first response to a writer's block.

Suffering from a lack of Robotripping
There are two men and no women who understand the way I think. One I am married to and the other one is dead. He has been dead since I was a baby. I have never met him and he never knew I existed. But I read his book during the formative years of my life and this has shaped the way I live and love today. Abbie Hoffman was a man of passion and a man of daring.

I have tripped that my husband was a reincarnation of Abbie. I have tripped that I am a reincarnation of Abbie and of Anita (his wife). I have not tripped for a long time. I have had to forgo smoke and DXM due to the birth of my child. Which is a pain (the lack of trip not so much the child) but we manage. Dex stopped working for us anyway. We would trip, but not get the earth shattering insights that we used to.

Lately we have been wondering if what we believe is actually possible or if we have just deluded ourselves for the last six years. I thought I had something beautiful to share with my child, but I am not sure if it can survive another winter in enemy territory. Oh spring, please come soon.

I yearn to be outside. In my garden, running around barefoot, watching my kid play in the park, and all around laughing. Spring brings hope and laughter and rebirth. I wish the cold dead hands of winter would release me and allow me to feel more than the the white plaster of academia. I can no longer trip, but I can still explore.

How should I ask a professor that works in my office if he was a hippie in the 60's?

And how do you cope when there is something worse than death? I fear everyday that they will take my child.


Log in