Dumb….like me!

Very few things in this world make me speechless and very, very few things leave me so angry and emotional that I am left not only speechless but immobile and almost incapable of reacting.

Last night I was on the T. I worked a bit late so I managed to avoid the after work rush and catch a nearly empty train home. I don’t live far from my office and am usually on the T for roughly 20 minutes as I have only 6 stops until my exit.

I left my book at home and had nothing to keep myself occupied for the short trip to my station. I was left with the option of either reading the ads on the train or just sort of “people watching” while pretending like I was just staring into space.

I chose the latter.

As I was looking around the train I caught sight of three teenagers in pure fits of laughter. One of them stood up for a second and pretended to sort of limp and drag his leg and then proceeded to fall back into the seat, holding his sides from the pain of his snickering. One of the other teens started to speak loudly, affecting the speech pattern of hearing impaired person. He then started drooling and giggling as he was egged-on by the other boys.

I stared at them for about thirty seconds before I realized what was happening.

Sitting directly across from these kids was a young boy. The boy in question had Down’s Syndrome and he sat there watching as these teens taunted and made fun of him.

I…..I…..I…..couldn’t say a word. I was so angry I was stunned into silence. The train lurched to a stop and the teens guffawed their way off.

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I have a brother. I love him with every ounce of my being (and probably more than he is aware).

My brother is mentally handicapped. He is a gentle giant of sorts and I have always likened him to a “Lenny” type from “Of Mice and Men”.

Years ago when I was in my early 20s, I picked my brother up from his job. It was a rare rainy day in L.A. and my mother asked if I would take him home so he didn’t have to take the bus in the torrential downpour.

We drove in silence for about 5 minutes until my brother started asking questions about various bits of my life. At that point in time we didn’t’ see each other very often. I was living with my then boyfriend and he asked “Does this mean you are getting married?”

“No”, I said, “we’re just sort of hanging out and spending time together.”

“Oh”, he said, a bit confused. “Ummmm, do you wanna get married?”

“Someday, I guess so.” was my reply.

This left the door open for some playful ribbing. So I sort of half smirked at him and started in with my line of questioning.

“Well what about you?” I said. “Do you want to get married?”

“YES!” my brother said. “That would be cool. I want that someday.”

I giggled.

“And kids?” I said. “Are you going to have kids?”

“NO! NO KIDS.” he said. “NO WAY!”

He was so emphatic about that. I was taken aback.

“Why not?” I asked, thinking he had something funny to say as a response.

“Because”, he said, “I don’t want them to be dumb like me.”

It was still pouring rain and I just looked at my brother in shock.

I pulled my car over to the side of the road and sobbed.

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I looked at the young boy on the train, the object of their chortles and jokes. He had obviously been affected by these cretins. I had been affected by these cretins!

I could feel the lump in my throat begin to grow.

Suddenly, the young boy looked in my direction and pointed at the empty space where the taunting teens had been sitting.

“They’re dumb”, he said and then smiled a big, beaming, toothy smile in my direction.

I nodded in agreement and exited the train at the next stop.

I walked slowly to my car, step by step, with too many thoughts in my head.

On the drive home I pulled my car over to the side and sobbed.

Representing the Lollipop Guild

Very rarely does one like to admit that aid is needed. Less so when the person in question has been independent and wholly self-reliant for close to 20 years.

Now don’t get me wrong, this is by no means an admission that past aid has not been offered and accepted. But generally the “aid” in question is of the “I am far too lazy to do this” variety and not of the “I am completely incapable of doing this” kind.

It is no secret that I am a staunch feminist and was raised in environment where the mantra “you can do anything you set your mind to” was repeated daily.

Unfortunately, I have now proven these words to be false because I have found the ONE task that I am completely incapable of accomplishing.

I absolutely cannot change the lightbulbs in my house!

Now before we all start with the “how many feminists does it take to screw in a light-bulb” or any other joke of the sort, I feel I should explain.

This is not an issue of my not knowing how to change a lightbulb nor is it an issue of not necessarily having the tools to do said task.

The issue is purely of the genetic variety.

You would think that in 1972, at my conception, a father who was 6′2″ and a mother who was 5′7″ would be able to create a child with the ability to change a light bulb. Apparently genetics played a cruel joke and reached far back to the previous “little” generations and proudly presented my parents with a daughter who is now, at age 35, a whopping 4′11″.

I stand on ladders, on step stools, on phone books, on any other bits that I can find. I stretch and strain and teeter dangerously close to becoming a 4′11″ bundle of broken bones on the floor!

I CAN’T REACH THE DAMN FIXTURES IN MY CEILING!

Help!!! Bring reinforcements!

I am living in darkness and I am too fucking short to change these damn bulbs!

I am begging and pleading…..anyone over 5′5″……please come…quickly. I am on my last candle and am mired in Munchkin Land!

Stop the world and let me off!

Have we all gone completely insane? Have I? Obviously the answer to the latter is a resounding “yes” as I am about to do something I never thought I would – defend Sarah Palin.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still think she is completely unqualified for the VP position. To be honest, I think she is greatly unqualified to be governor of Alaska, having only won that election because the incumbent was so unpopular.

I don’t agree with a her views on a single issue. Her religious views need to stay out of her politics but they are so intertwined that I doubt she knows the difference.

If we let Toto pull back the drape and reveal the men behind the curtain, we will find that Conservative Right Wing Republicans are the puppet-masters pulling her strings and writing her speeches. As a matter of fact, her acceptance speech at the RNC was written BEFORE she was even chosen as running mate. Naturally, the writers  made a few edits to fit her political record and information into the text.

Picking Palin was such a tactical and calculated move on McCain’s part. He did NOT pick this woman because she is capable or even ready for the job of VP. By choosing Palin, McCain successfully took focus away from Obama and his DNC acceptance speech.

He has gone against what he, himself, stated he was looking for….”someone who would be ready to take his place immediately” as Palin, herself, has stated that she isn’t even really sure what a VP’s job entails. One can only hope that people will begin to see through this charade and realize this wholly unqualified, Right Wing, Christian conservative woman is, if McCain is elected, a heart attack away from the presidency.

But I digress. My issue is that I have found myself, on more than one occasion, defending her. And that makes me angry.

I don’t believe in the conspiracy theories about her youngest child but that is not what I find myself in a quandary over.

What I am taking issue with is the myriads of people who feel she should not run for office when she has young children at home. I can’t believe that aside from the many reasons she is unqualified for this position, the biggest issue to most people is that she should stay home and “rear her children”! Are we serious?

Did I go to sleep up and wake up in 1957?

I was raised by a single working mother and had a mentally handicapped brother. My mother handled both work and family and neither one suffered. I think it is a male agenda that tells a woman she can’t do a job because she has family duties. We would never say this if it was Palin’s husband who was the VP choice.

 
Again, I state, WRONG WOMAN…but right time! We are ready for a woman in the White House…but NOT this one!

The F Word!

When did feminism become a dirty word? Why are we, as women, failing to admit that we are feminists and yet so willing to accept the Conservative ideal of feminism – Sarah Palin?

To say Palin is a champion for feminists is like saying Hitler was a champion for human rights.

Sarah Palin is an enemy of the rights of women. Reading the political blogs and forums and seeing women stating they will vote for Palin solely because she is a woman is frightening. It is a betrayal of all feminists….of all women….of all voters.

We SHOULD NOT elect a president or vice president simply because of what does or does not hang between their legs.

Palin is an opportunist NOT a feminist. She is reaping all the benefits of the women’s movement so she can step into office and strip away the hard won rights that put her there. All the shouts and murmurs you are reading about Palin’s feminism are well-placed blurbs from the Conservatives who are trying to use the language of feminists to push their anti-feminist candidate.

Feminism is about allowing women to make their own choices the way men do. Feminism is about empowerment. It is about giving women equality and ability. The ability to keep our own names, if we so desire, when we marry. The ability to control our own bodies and fertility. The ability to have equal access to employment and education. Feminism is about giving women the same rights as men so that we may live in this country as equals.

Sarah Palin is about taking these rights and choices away.

She is against abortion even in the case of rape or incest. She is against sex education and advocates abstinence only education.

To put it in simple terms, she wants to force women to carry unwanted children and yet wishes to deny us the knowledge of the tools we need in order to avoid this very situation.

The only problem with calling oneself a feminist these days is that we have become apathetic feminists. We have watched as the current administration has slowly stripped away our rights….not just as women but as human beings.

This is our wake-up call and if we do not move swiftly we will lose all progress we have made in the past 80 years.

The New England Summer Mascot

Being that I grew up in the concrete jungle of Los Angeles, I never had any problems with mosquitoes. I was in my late 20’s before I was ever bitten by one of these pesky little creatures.

I was 28 and my boyfriend at the time lived in South Florida. I flew out for a visit and returned with over 100 mosquito bites. I suppose the little buggers had a meeting about the “fresh meat” in town and I became a glorious buffet. Now, had I just had a normal, healthy, red-hive type of reaction to the bite all would be fine. But NO….I like to excel at all that I do. It was on this trip that I discovered a new and exciting fact about myself.

I am allergic to mosquito bites.

Now in some way, shape or form we are all obviously allergic as the little itchy red bump is a form of an allergic reaction. But for people who are actually severely allergic to these bites – a phenomenon known as “skeeter syndrome” – they react differently to a mosquito nibble.

First you realize almost immediately that you have been bitten. It starts out as in incredibly itchy tiny little red dot. You fight every urge to scratch but the itch makes you want to rip your appendages off. You try and ignore it and hope that you have hydrocortisone or Benadryl cream nearby. Unfortunately, all this will do is soothe the itch for brief periods of time.

After a while the area of the bite spreads and swells and bruises and gets, for lack for a better term, a fever. Your skin is blazing hot to the touch but only in the affected area. The redness now becomes like a rash and if you have any other bites in the area they sort of have a meet-and-greet and join up to spread the joy of the allergy as far as it may go.

I looked like a leper when I returned from that trip to Florida and I headed straight to the allergist.

I am actually allergic to the anticoagulant that the mosquito releases when it bites. Aside from the basic over the counter anti-itch remedies there is not much I can do about the reaction. The allergist recommended that I try to not to get bitten.

RIGHT!

Well that was pretty easy in L.A. The mosquitoes couldn’t penetrate the ever protective layer of smog. However, I had a moment of pure insanity and I packed up and moved to the northeast where the summers are wet and sticky and the mosquito should be the summer mascot.

I take all sorts of precautions. I cover up. I try and avoid heavily populated mosquito areas. My summer perfume is DEET.

It seems to have worked. I have been in New England for almost 4 years and have avoided the dreaded allergic reaction.

Until now……

I was in Rhode Island this past weekend and we were getting ready to catch the tail-end of a hurricane. The weather was hot, sticky and verging on unbearable. It was a dressy occasion, a wedding, and I decided against using my “l’eau de DEET”. Apparently, this type of weather is a breeding ground for these evil critters and in the 3.5 seconds that I was actually outside one of them got me on my leg – my shin, to be exact.

My little bite started to itch and burn in the middle of the reception. I did my best to ignore it but managed to help the allergy on its “spreading journey” by swing dancing and running all about. The next morning my leg was double the size.  It was swollen, hot, bruised and red. I drove back to Boston and did all my home remedies to try and calm the reaction. Nothing worked. The mosquito had won.

This bring us to today. Here I sit, at work, limping through my day. My leg is so swollen that I can’t put any pressure on it. I called the doctor and begged and pleaded for some sort of magic pill that will make this allergy go away.

She recommended, and I quote, verbatim – “Why don’t you try and get bitten more often and maybe you’ll develop an immunity to the bites”.

I am seriously considering having my leg removed – 1) to stop the insane amount of pain and annoyance associated with this allergy and 2) so I can wallop my doctor over her head with it!