Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

I'm too tired

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

It was a useful day, but danged I'm in pain. Even my arms, from holding them up to the keyboard.

I didn't get to lie down at all today, either.

I produced a commentary for Memorial Day weekend: an apology to Viet Nam Veterans.

I'm very proud of the way I produced it. It's in .wav format right now. So, tomorrow, I WILL transload it or FTP it to my domain, so WebTV users can hear it.

Eventually, I'll have to zip it, for storage. But someone makes "unzipping" tools for WebTVs, so I'll learn how to do that, so people can unzip them.

I've got to be careful about bandwidth! At the rate I'm writing stories, I could fill my domain VERY quickly with audio. Tristan told me a minute of .wav is about five KB of space? Maybe that's wrong, I don't know.

It was a traumatic day. With all my preparations for a long day, I never considered the possibility of getting my menses today...

As my genitals are scarred, I seldom wear under pants. So, I had nothing to which I could attach a sanitary pad.

I spent all my remaining change in the sanitary vending machines, in all women's bathrooms, on all three floors. They were all empty.

I was then reduced to going from office to office, panhandling Tampons.

They hurt me. My uterus is tipped and tampons touch my cervix, which causes pain and cramping.

But I couldn't sit down and work unless I had protection. I would have ruined my dress and humiliated myself.

Men made jokes. It was humiliating.

And I had to explain about not wearing underwear, which was embarrassing.

A woman in the Purchasing Dept. on the 1st floor needed to buy herself some. On her lunch hour, she went to the local drug store. They were on sale: 2 for 1. So she gave me a whole box.

Plus, a woman on the 2nd floor gave me her entire emergency stash: trust a Native American gal to have a huge, zip lock bag, full of just about every configuration of santitary product ever devised! LOL

My belly hurts from wearing the damn things. But I have no money for pads, so I will just live with it.

Laura bought me the BEST home made burrito today, made by a tiny, Guatamalan woman named Hilda, of all things, who sells them door to door from an ice chest. It was Carbon style, with jalepenos. and MAN was it GOOD!

There's nothing like home cooking.

Hilda gushed about my dress: yellow cotton, white lace, hand embroidered yarn flowers, with a handkerchief yolk and hem, from Mexico. She has a good eye. Of course: she's Guatamalan! LOL

I think I did a good job on my commentary.

My piece on domestic violence for NNN aired today. Tina asked me if I heard it...no, since I work at KUNM, I hardly EVER get to hear the radio any more! LOL

Katie made the BEST home made cookies for the KUNM general meeting tonight. I struggled through the first two agenda items, but bowed out of discussion of programming changes. It's just too intense, charged, emotional and dangerous. It's none of my business, either, yet. Some day, probably. But not yet.

Leslie gave me a ride home. We stopped at Smith's and I got cat food! One of the construction workers, who are remodelling KUNM, volunteered to loan me five bucks 'til my check comes. I didn't ask. He offered.

The cats were very happy to get it! Their old stuff is stale, I think. They eat it, but not happily.

I need to sleep soon, although it's not nine thirty yet.

I'm watching the thing on PBS about Samuri. What a hard culture! I wonde where the Japanese learned fascist cruelty?

feeling alone
like floating weeds
cut off at the root
I may just go
where the water takes me

a Haiku they just read.

I totally need to sleep.

Leslie's coming for me again in the morning, bless her heart.

The pain in my belly is now migrating to back pain: back labor. It's nasty.

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