Four years ago tonight!

Four years ago tonight I was excited. Around this time, I was headed to the Javits Center with my favorite people Trent, Rebecca, and Travis (yes I have more favorite people than just them, I hear you Kristie and Laura) and was going to an event that was designed by my friend Greg. 

That day had been picture perfect! It was a lovely fall day in New York, the trees were showing off all gold, red, and autumn brown. We spent a lazy morning at Laura's apartment and then headed across the park to the Natural History Museum. We walked through the exhibits with a sense of peace and excitement knowing that we were going to see history in just few short hours. We had a late lunch and then headed back to Laura's to change. I wore my best pants suite with my Hillary t-shirt. The shirt I am wearing as I type this. I remember getting in the uber and thinking I can't believe I get to see this! 

When we arrived at the Javits center we found Rebecca, Emma, Tom and Travis and headed inside. It was like being at Disneyland and Christmas Morning all wrapped in one, but better and more exciting. The Javits Center was BEAUTIFUL! We were right in front of the stage. We knew we had some time to wait so we made spot on the floor and checked our phones every 5 seconds. We talked, laughed, and made friends with the people around us. We talked about how amazing it was that we were inside. We cried in anticipation and joy, knowing that tonight was going to be something that our children's children talked about. 

Time and space made no sense after awhile. We were all checking websites and saying, "Nate Silver said..." The huge screens were showing the news and we saw states turning red one after another. I know that it sounds dramatic but the only word I can describe how I felt is despair. Here we sat in this beautiful venue, looking up at a glass ceiling and it felt like it was falling in on us. One by one people started leaving. We waited. When it looked like their was no hope, we left. 

We walked outside to what was going to be a street festival and looked like a ghost town. We found cab and went back to mid-town to drop off Rebecca and Emma and find pizza. We forgot that the Trump party was in mid-town. If we left a ghost town, we walked into mardi gras. People celebrating and streets blocked off. We found shitty pizza and sat inside and ate in silence with an occasional,  "Fuck" and "What are we going to do" mumbled under our breath.

It has been four years and I have thought about that night every day. I was so hopeful. Hopeful that we were going to have a woman president. Hopeful that the work would continue. Hopeful that America and Americans would not vote for a misogynistic bully. Before we left Laura's for the Javits Center, I remember Logan, Laura's son, saying we can't have a bully president. Then 8 hours later we did. 

At some point we went to sleep, got up, got on an airplane and went home. And life has happened in four years. The world did not end, but it got a little worse. Refugee children were stolen from their families, more black people were murdered by law enforcement, walls were built, healthcare for women was not a priority and was defunded, education has been privatized at a higher rate, the LGBTQ community has lost more rights. And some good things have happened, Trent and I got engaged, friends and family have had babies, I have had some amazing trips with old and new friends. 

But the despair of that night on the Javits Center floor has not left, endlessly wondering what will happen to us? I used to feel safe all the time. I know that is a sign of my privilege. In the past four years I have felt less and less safe every day. I feel like every day is a fight for justice. I feel like I am swimming in a pool of lies and I am constantly surprised by those who believe them. 

So tonight I sit in my Hillary t-shirt, eat chicken pot pie, and watch the West Wing. I have lived in worry. I have lived in despair. I have lived in a world where more and more, women and people of color are treated like less and less. I am not brimming with hope and excitement tonight. I have a small ember of hope deep inside and I keep it safe. Tonight that ember is glowing and I am hoping against hope that justice will win, and bullies will step down. 

Meteor Shower

Summer in the desert is made for night time. When I was in high school my friends and I would sleep most of the day and then have adventures at night. It was the 90's and we lived in a poor small desert town where at midnight the temps would get down to 100 degrees. We drove cars from the 70's and early 80's with tape decks and 8-track players. There was a freedom of driving through the dark desert night with music playing while the windows were down, the hot air stinging your face was both assaulting and refreshing at the same time.

One night in the summer of '94 there was a meteor shower. I was 16 and I remember thinking that night, that this is something, something special. We all piled into our shitty cars and drove out to the new housing development on the hill. The houses were being built and the roads were all newly paved. I remember being nervous as we drove through the streets where no one lived. I was always a little nervous about everything, but this night was different. I was not nervous about what I was wearing, or if I was cool enough to hang out with these people, or if I would ever find a boyfriend. I was nervous that I would not see or feel what I was supposed to when the universe opened up and that stars fell. 

We all parked our cars. As I got out of the car with my friends there were already people lying in the middle of the road. It wasn't a large group, less than 20. It was dark. I found a clear spot and laid on my back. The asphalt was warm against my skin. I looked up and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust, and then the sky started to fall, slowly, piece by piece. I remember breathing consciously and wanting to remember the moment.

I have no idea how long we laid with the warm asphalt on our backs. I don't really remember getting back in the car or the drive home, that part gets blurred into a 100 of other nights we drove circles around town not trying to get anywhere, but to simply be somewhere. I do remember the moment we had on that hill when I felt small, and loved, and safe and scared of all of those feelings. When the heat of summer was cooled by the falling nights sky. When my biggest worries and fears were washed away by a meteor shower. 

Tonight I am feeling overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by fear. Overwhelmed by hate. Overwhelmed by death. Overwhelmed by work. Overwhelmed by poverty. Overwhelmed by sickness. Overwhelmed by change. Overwhelmed by a culture that does not value justice. Overwhelmed with no where to go. 

And as I breathe, and breathe, and breathe, there is no meteor shower tonight to wash this feeling away. It is just me. here. now. 

Meteor showers happen when the earth burns up the debris that enters it's atmosphere, at least that's what google just told me. It turns cosmic trash into celestial fireworks. There is something beautiful about that, something almost healing. So tonight I will breathe. Tomorrow I will wake up and I will be my own meteor shower, I will let the light and life inside of me burn all the injustice I can. I will spark and flair. I will speak up and speak out. I will try to feel the safety of the desert night as I light up the sky. I remember what it feels like to passively watch a meteor shower happen and I ache to make change that lights up the night's sky.