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Mar. 2nd, 2005 12:02 amI feel like I've been getting too close to death and violence lately. Today I tried to wake up by drinking coffee and reading the paper, and I ended up reading about this federal judge that found her husband and mother killed, just a few blocks from Agnes' house. I keep thinking about her, and what she must be feeling today. If I lost those two people, at once, it would destroy me. That poor woman. I wish I could help her somehow, but I don't even have a context for that kind of pain.A few weeks ago, Carolyn got to witness this taxi-driver killing from out her living room window. If I didn't know better, I would start to believe all those scary urban legends my mother and grandmother propogate through chain emails about how dangerous the city is. It may or may not be dangerous for *me*, but there are certainly people getting hurt and killed every hour of the day and night, just because there are so damn many of us in such a little space. I begin to see the attraction of sterile suburbs--you know that you're not any safer, but you can pretend a lot easier because you can't hear or see what's going on with your neighbors.
Watching Six Feet Under, with all its mayhem and family misery and looming death, is probably not helping me much either. As LP says--I get enough reality in my reality, I don't need to watch it on TV. However, it's good to see a little overdramatization, so that I can be thankful for all the parts of my life that are actually together right now. (My one gripe about the show: the big second-season finale making an unrealistic plot line about Nate's own Raspberry of Doom? NOT a big seller over in my house. Don't like the doc; don't like the medical inaccuracies; don't like the assumption of impending death. Couldn't the writers have just given him cancer or something??)
Knitting is once again therapeutic for me. Despite feeling a little dissociated, it's good to get out of the house and talk to people who do not share any of my names. Stress on the home front is not likely to subside soon, however--not through any fault of Elwood's, but he got some hugely disturbing news today about our drink of choice. I suppose that I will have to show some solidarity with him and stop expecting him to pre-set the morning 12 cups of coffee every night. Hmph. I may be reduced to sneaking out to the corner cafe to get a fix. Or start brewing my own in small batches, just like mama used to make.
Watching Six Feet Under, with all its mayhem and family misery and looming death, is probably not helping me much either. As LP says--I get enough reality in my reality, I don't need to watch it on TV. However, it's good to see a little overdramatization, so that I can be thankful for all the parts of my life that are actually together right now. (My one gripe about the show: the big second-season finale making an unrealistic plot line about Nate's own Raspberry of Doom? NOT a big seller over in my house. Don't like the doc; don't like the medical inaccuracies; don't like the assumption of impending death. Couldn't the writers have just given him cancer or something??)
Knitting is once again therapeutic for me. Despite feeling a little dissociated, it's good to get out of the house and talk to people who do not share any of my names. Stress on the home front is not likely to subside soon, however--not through any fault of Elwood's, but he got some hugely disturbing news today about our drink of choice. I suppose that I will have to show some solidarity with him and stop expecting him to pre-set the morning 12 cups of coffee every night. Hmph. I may be reduced to sneaking out to the corner cafe to get a fix. Or start brewing my own in small batches, just like mama used to make.
