Thursday, March 29, 2007

l33t like me.

I use Firefox because I'm l33t like that.

My cool husband uses Internet Explorer because he's a n00b.

When he has computer problems he yells "Piece of shit" which makes me come running. 9 times out of 10, I tell him he has a PEBCAK.

Over the years he has conditioned me. He doesn't have to ask for my help any more. All I need hear is "Piece of shit!" and like Pavlov's dog I start drooling to fix whatever his PEBCAK is and be a hero.

It's good to be a l33t techie married to a n00b. You always feel useful.

Sometimes though it's not good to be a two-blogger household.

I use Firefox on his PC, and he uses Internet Explorer. He started using Firefox to be l33t like me, but he's still a n00b. He made a comment on someone's blog last night without dumping cookies first, so it came up under my ID. He told me about it this morning. He thought it was funny.

I didn't.

I'm real particular about the blogs I comment on. If I comment on non-adoption blogs, I don't use this ID. Cause I don't want grateful people coming here. They're adoption n00bs. When I comment on my husband's Wordpress blog, I use a different name each time. For the email address I put in something silly and obscene, like blow@me.com because I'm juvenile like that.

You know it wasn't the end of the world that he posted a comment on someone's blog under my cookies.

But I blew up. I wish I didn't blow up like that. I feel bad about it. It was just an honest mistake.

I just don't want people are who aren't down with my l33t points of view coming here. Also he's a political blogger, and those politico's love to argue.

I also wish I didn't get mad so easy. That's such a n00b thing to do.

If you're a two-blogger household and share PC's, here's a tip for you. Set up a separate profile for Firefox so you've got separate cache and cookie directories. Close Firefox and click on the Start button, then click on Run. In the open box, type this:


and set up a different profile. Be sure to uncheck the box that says don't prompt for profile. That way you won't leave blog comments under wrong IDs.

If I wasn't such a n00b at times, I would have done that from the start.

I'm very behind in my blog reading, and will be off for the weekend tomorrow afternoon. Have a great weekend everyone! Hopefully will catch up with all on Monday.

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Sunday, March 25, 2007

Husband hair

My sister yells at me. She says I have husband hair.

She says husband hair is when women my age still bother with the time and trouble of having long hair. She says the only reason why we do it is because men like it. She says men like seeing women with long hair spread out across pillows, and we with husband hair are going through a lot of pointless trouble just to make men happy. She says it’s too hard to have long hair, and I should just cut it short or at least shoulder length. She says don’t I do enough during the day; why do I have to spend so much time on long hair, just for a man?

I say when you are skinny and beautiful and have straight blond hair and boobs the size of my sister’s, it’s really easy to talk about not going out of your way for men.

I never thought of it as husband hair. I just thought of it as my hair. I like long hair. Also, when one tends to be pear shaped, one tends to shy away from short hair. It makes me look like a triangle. Triangles are bad.

There is a drawback to it though.

It gets really tangled in the back because it’s so curly. Then if I am short on time in the morning, it’s easy to put it up in a professional bun and hide a tangle or two and tell myself I’ll work on it that night. But if I wind up working late, by the time I get to bed I’m too tired to work on it, so the tangle gets just a little bigger. It becomes a cycle of buns and exhaustion, and the tangle grows.

Also too there are the periods of adoptive malaise. Adoptive malaise is a disease that comes when work is done and all the kids are gone, and I find myself not answering to calls of “Mom!” or “T!” all day. Adoptive malaise often happens on weekends and vacations. Without someone else’s needs to attend to, it is a requirement that I curl on the couch in a fetal position and sleep all day long. If you sleep all day long with your hair in a bun because you’ve been ignoring a tangle, that just makes things worse. The adoptive malaise lifts, but the tangle remains.

Sometimes the adoptive malaise is so heavy the only way I can tell I’m in it is by the tangle. I need to reach around the back of my head to tell if I’m depressed. Then the tangle depresses me more, because it’s so huge I can’t figure out how to get rid of it.

Occasionally the tangle is in a place where I can’t reach, and I need my husband to work on it for me. The tangle isn’t his fault or his responsibility, but sometimes he can get to the places I can’t. Other times I can’t find my way out of adoptive malaise, so I work on the tangle instead. Detangling usually takes a few nights. Then when I find the tangle is gone, the depression goes away with it.

All of this tangled hair talk is true but it’s also full of symbolism and metaphor because I’m just that deep.

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Saturday, March 24, 2007

You know I love posting YouTube Videos, but..

This video, needs to be viewed on the page of the woman who made it.

So you can tell her it's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.


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Newsflash: Don't let your babies grow up to be deported

What the hell is this? Oh this just pisses me off to no end.

Summary: Little Samuel was adopted at age 3 from India. Mom just forgot one wee little thing. To make him a freaking citizen! Oooooops! It was reported that she “lacked the money and knowledge of all the ramifications to complete the application process on his behalf.”

Could someone please explain to me how it is that you can adopt a child from another country, yet not know how important this is to make them a citizen? What agency did she work with? How come they left this little bit of info out?

I admit I am completely and totally ignorant of international adoption laws here, but how does this work? Isn't citizenship part of the process? I'm not ranting here; I'm seriously confused.

And if you can't afford it, where does the money just for airfare come from? Listen, I work in tech support. If there's anything I know well, it's the cost of airfare back and forth to India. I don't care even if it was 1985, that shit's expensive. I'm serious, somebody give me a hand here because I'm really struggling with this.

Mom adopted Sam, his two older brothers and an older sister from India in 1985. She also already had two prior adoptees from India. Then she married a man with two sons as well.

So, as a teen, Sam has “a juvenile record of theft offenses and engaged in altercations as a teen with his stepfather that occasionally required police intervention.”

Yeah.

Now at the ripe old age of 23, he’s got two car theft felonies. Lest anyone think I have this bursting sympathy for car thieves think again. But what’s Sam’s punishment for stealing cars? Is it jail? Yeah, he served time after his second offense. So what after that? Is his debt to society paid? Does he get probation? Counseling?

Nope! Deportationbecause he’s not a citizen.

Nice, real nice.


Adoptee, felon fighting deportation to India
He has lived most of his life in the U.S., but criminal record makes him ineligible for asylum
By Pamela Manson
The Salt Lake Tribune
Salt Lake Tribune

Samuel Jonathan Schultz, a legal resident of the United States, fears the worst if he is sent back to India, a country he left at age 3 when he was adopted by a West Valley City woman.

The 25-year-old knows little about the nation of his birth, speaks only English and believes he would have to live on the streets there, according to court documents. As a Christian in general, and a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in particular, he believes he will be targeted for persecution.

But immigration authorities are unconvinced. Based on his two felony car-theft-related convictions, the federal government wants to send him packing to one of the world's poorest nations.

On Wednesday, the 10th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals upheld a decision by the Board of Immigration Appeals that ordered him removed from the country.

The Denver-based 10th Circuit agreed that Schultz's criminal record makes him ineligible for cancellation of the deportation order. In addition, the court said Schultz has failed to show a likelihood that he would be tortured in India based on his faith, a basis to get asylum.

Schultz, who was released from custody last year, and his mother could not be reached for comment. His lawyers declined to discuss the case.

The lawyers, J. Christopher Keen and Edward Carter, say in court documents that Schultz is being kicked out of the United States for crimes that essentially amounted to joy riding. Government attorneys, however, describe the offenses as much more serious.

If Schultz had pursued U.S. citizenship, the outcome might have been different. But 20 years ago, his adoptive mother, Patricia Schultz, lacked the money and knowledge of all the ramifications to complete the application process on his behalf.

Schultz came to the United States in July 1985 with his two older brothers and an older sister, all of whom had been adopted by the woman. The single mother, who already had two other adoptive Indian children, later married a man with two sons.

According to the government's court brief, Samuel Schultz has a juvenile record of theft offenses and engaged in altercations as a teen with his stepfather that occasionally required police intervention.

Then in 2000, he was arrested while driving home in a stolen vehicle. The then-18-year-old said the car had been stolen by an acquaintance and he was returning it to where the friend had left it, across the street from the Schultz house.

Schultz pleaded guilty to receiving or transferring a stolen vehicle, was given a suspended sentence of up to five years in prison and was placed on three years' probation.

Less than a year later, in January 2001, he was stopped for speeding and West Valley police officers discovered the vehicle he was driving had been stolen the previous day. He pleaded guilty to receiving a stolen vehicle and was sentenced to one to 15 years.

Schultz came to the attention of immigration authorities during a screening at Utah State Prison in Draper for noncitizen offenders. They initiated removal proceedings in March 2002.

Since then, Schultz has been fighting to stay in the United States but has lost at every level.

Immigration Judge James Vandello ruled in 2005 that there was nothing in the law allowing him to reverse the deportation order. In addition, the criminal convictions make Schultz ineligible for asylum, the judge said. Besides, Schultz has not shown a reasonable possibility of mistreatment or torture based on his religion, he said. "He has not shown that people of the Mormon faith are routinely persecuted by the government or people operating outside the government," Vandello stated in his ruling. "There are random acts of persecution of Christians and also of other religions, as far as that goes, even the majority religions on occasion."

Despite ruling against Schultz, Vandello expressed some concern about some aspects of the law that allows the government to deport legal residents.

In his ruling, he noted that cases of such residents being deported because of felony convictions are becoming more common. He said the only way for Schultz to stay would be to get permission to withdraw his guilty pleas so he could fight the criminal charges or to persuade Congress to pass a private bill on his behalf. Such a bill would be "a very difficult and arduous process," he said.

"It presents a very serious humanitarian situation when somebody has to be deported to a country he knows nothing about, which is quite the case here."



Deported for theft?

The situation: Samuel Schultz, who came to the United States as an adopted child in 1985, was convicted of two felony car-theft related crimes as a young adult. When the federal government learned he was not a citizen, they ordered him deported.
The appeal: Saying India is a foreign and hostile place to him, Schultz, now 25, has fought the order but lost every appeal, including a recent one before a federal appellate court.
What's next: Schultz's attorneys could ask the court to reconsider or petition the U.S. Supreme Court. They also could seek a political solution, such as intervention from the White House or Congress.

Too harsh?
* The situation: India native Samuel Schultz, adopted by a Utah woman in 1985, was twice convicted of felonies. The federal government ordered him deported.
* The appeal: Saying India is a foreign and hostile place to him, Schultz has fought the order but lost all appeals.
* What's next: Schultz's attorneys could ask the court to reconsider, petition the U.S. Supreme Court or seek help in Congress.

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Thursday, March 22, 2007

A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep

You know something; I just haven’t felt great since I had the flu in February. I’ve been dragging ever since. I don’t know if I’ve got something lingering here, or if it’s just my emotions coming out in my body because I’ve been putting adoption front and center for a while, instead of just compartmentalizing it. Maybe both, but I have the feeling it’s more of the latter.

Today I had the realization that everyone I work with, everyone who works for me, everyone I work for, takes sick days. Except me. I take sick hours. I was looking back over my hours logs and realized I don’t have any full sick days listed. I’ve got days that look like:

Hours worked: 6 Hours sick: 2
Hours worked: 4 Hours sick: 4.

Mostly I have days that look like this:

Hours worked: 8 Overtime hours: 3
Hours worked: 8 Overtime hours: 5
Hours worked: 8 Overtime hours: 2.5

I started work today, but was just so achy and malaisey I logged off and went straight to sleep. I think I’m going to take the day off tomorrow too. I can’t see anywhere back in my hours log where I’ve taken a full day sick day.

But anyway I had a great dream. I dreamt that I got this huge package from the county of all of the adoption records in 1963. I had gotten these two large ledgers. At first I was really annoyed that I needed to go through them both to find mine but then I realized that I had everyone’s records and that I could help all these 1963 folks too.

Then the scenes shifted and I was at someone’s backyard barbeque reading some adoption book. All of a sudden I had this huge feeling that the author was my mother. I started screaming at everyone that I had found her. Next scene I was on the phone with the author’s husband. He said she wasn’t my mother but there were three women at his house who could help me find her, if I wanted to come over there.

Then I was talking to three women who told me that we’d have to time travel but I could see her that way. I’d have to sneak into a prison as a kitchen worker to see her. All of the girls from 1963 needed to go to a prison to have their babies, but they could sneak me in as one of the cafeteria workers and I could see her when she was in prison.

The symbolism in my dreams is so obvious at times it’s downright embarrassing.

But then my cool husband came home from work and woke me up before I could get a chance to see her.

I’m going back to bed. I don’t feel good. I hope I dream again.

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Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Thank you, Live Journal folks

This really isn’t an ungrateful rant, but you LJ folks reading this know why I labeled it as such. I just wanted you to know I really appreciate you stopping by. I see you, and I see how long some of you are staying when you come. Some of you guys are true readers.

Those of you pausing for a spell: You’re really amazing, you know? So many people click on a link and then click off again 2 seconds later. Not you guys. You’re coming in, you’re setting up camp, and you’re in for the long haul reading through the old posts.

.... thanks....

Thank you, reading people. And I’d like to ask you a favor. Do you know someone who is adopted? Do you know someone who is a first mom? Do you know someone who has adopted a child?

Show them a little love today. As a very wise woman I know has posted on her blog, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle”



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Tuesday, March 20, 2007

MySpace / Quicktime exploit combo

If you have QuickTime on your computer, and frequent Myspace (or share a computer with kids who frequent Myspace), be sure you are running Version 7.1.5

You can check which version you are running by clicking Help, About Quicktime on the Quicktime menu bar

Don’t trust the auto-updater… on my own computer, I have the software configured to automatically check for and install updates, yet I was still at a lower level. Even after I manually ran the updater, I was still advised I was at the latest version. That could be caused by either a faulty installation or my own PC’s firewall settings.. I’m not sure and it’s not important enough for me to figure out why. It’s easy enough to install the new version from Apple.


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Monday, March 19, 2007

The Way I See It

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Yeah, I know, I suck at teh intraweb graphicz. I'm not l33t like Jenna iz..

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New blog I'm reading

I'd like to introduce Green Mountain Country Mama, a very nice blogger with a very tricky search situation... but then again, aren't they all?

Her search is broken into two separate posts:

Do I look familiar?

Do you recognize me (part 2)?

Don't you just looooveee adoption?

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Hip! Fragile! Plucky!

No way I'm making fun of this play. I wish I was in CA so I could go see it. I just got a laugh out of the descriptions. I also got a laugh that it was playing at the Moolelo Theater. I'm glad I got a laugh out of those things. Cause everything else about it just makes me want to cry. I really wish I could go see this.

I just put all the adjectives together. Hip, fragile, plucky. Determined, joyous. Coerced, reasonably happy. Haunted. Missing.

Yeah.

"The Adoption Project: Triad"
7:30 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays, through April 1
Mo'olelo Performing Arts at Centro Cultural de la Raza; 2125 Park Blvd., Balboa Park; $25; (619) 342-7395; www.moolelo.net




THEATER REVIEW
Emotions rule 'The Adoption Project'

By Anne Marie Welsh
UNION-TRIBUNE THEATER CRITIC

March 19, 2007

'The Adoption Project: Triad” has all the earmarks of a Mo'olelo Performing Arts production: a socially relevant, emotionally fraught story; a script laced with humor and nonrealistic elements; a strong, deeply committed cast.

Staged in the wide-open spaces of the Centro Cultural de la Raza in Balboa Park, the new play by Kimber Lee focuses on three women who form the primal triad of the title.

The adoptee is Aggie, a hip, thirty-something ad writer increasingly determined to find her birth mother.

The adoptive mother is Bernice, a fragile person, whose backstory includes many miscarriages followed by a privileged life devoted to Aggie; she and her husband joyously adopted the girl in a traditional legal process involving “closed” records.

The birth mother is Madeleine, a plucky Midwesterner coerced into giving up her baby when she was 19 and now a reasonably happy married woman haunted by that missing piece of her life.

Mo'olelo founder Seema Sueko directed the pitch-perfect cast – Jo Anne Glover as restless Aggie, Sandy Campbell as delicate Bernice, and Linda Libby as Madeleine.

Lee structures her play as a collage of voices with the three actors playing many other roles, some of them comic. Campbell, for instance, dons a bouffant blond wig and red power blazer to become Barbara Walters; these parody scenes about a reductive TV special on adoption inspire some of Lee's best writing. Libby plays a Marx Brothers-style judge and an Internet-savvy stoner guy pal of Aggie. And when Glover's not playing Aggie, she struts about as Bernice's husband.

Given the primal nature of so many emotions surrounding birth and adoption, Sueko wisely employed choreographer Erika Malone to create dance sequences to express unspoken feelings.

Malone's simple, gestural choreography teases out that unseen relationship between the birth mother and adoptive mother who – in this particular case, and most others – have never met one another.

Another dance sequence involves a diaphanous white dress with tendril-like arms that connect Bernice and her adopted daughter, Aggie, even as Madeleine “disappears” from the dress, leaving an empty space, a sort of question mark, between them. Sound designer Paul Peterson's well-chosen musical interludes underscore the movement without overwhelming it.

With the subject very much in the news these days because of the boom in Chinese and celebrity adoptions, “The Adoption Project” nonetheless roots itself in an earlier era when pregnant girls, especially in Catholic families, were exiled to homes for “unwed mothers” and babies were, as a matter of course, “given up” for adoption within days of birth.

The cruelty of that system, wrapped in coercive silence and shame, is one potent theme in Lee's script, and Libby movingly embodies the agony of so many young women up against a system that judged as selfish any wish to keep and raise a child outside of marriage. Social and moral conventions were protected, not the feelings of the mother.

Campbell, best known for her crystalline soprano in musical theater, displays an impressive range in her dramatic and comic roles here. And Glover, who's quickly become one of the city's most reliable and in-demand young actors, adds another sharply delineated portrayal to her credits. The three wring a great deal of feeling and perspective from the somewhat abstract characterizations in Lee's script.

This is a women's story, with the fathers – and possible siblings and half-siblings of adoptees – intentionally beyond its focus.

The presentational nature of the staging is a throwback to feminist work of the '70s and '80s: many monologues orbiting round or overlapping one another, slide projections and multilayered visual effects.

In keeping with Mo'olelo's social mission, “The Adoption Project: Triad” will serve as a conversation-starter. For those outside the “Triad,” the thoughtful piece brings home inevitable feelings of loss experienced by all three in what Lee so rightly names the “Triad.”

Perhaps more significantly, it's possible that uneasy adoptees may bring their adoptive families to the Centro, there to begin dialogue about finding the missing pieces that may upset everyone's equilibrium for a time, but can also make families feel whole again.

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Sunday, March 18, 2007

These fine Massachusetts folks want to hear from you

These folks here.

They want you to write to them. They want to hear your feelings on the bills they are voting on Wednesday.

I wrote them, and I done did it nicely.

I hope you'll consider writing them too.

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Saturday, March 17, 2007

When I'm staying up extra late waiting for someone who is past his curfew....

I'm very grateful for Matt Harding finally posting his outtakes video, that made me smile.



Matt is hitting the road again soon. If you'd like to be on his dance card, you can drop him a note here.

I love Matt because he's so LUCKY to travel around the world, he's so SPECIAL to be CHOSEN by a gum company to pay for him to do so, and yet he posts ungrateful things on his blog sometimes about the countries he visits.

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Friday, March 16, 2007

In Telecommuting land, no one can see you cry.

I was supposed to be on the road all this month, but thankfully we’ve had some budget cuts and travel has been postponed. It’s a mixed blessing. While I hate the travel, there is something so wonderfully sterile and emotionally numbing about being on the road that can be like an addiction. Work numbs the pain. Sitting here alone in my home office during the day, that’s when the tears really come.

I’m bummed today.

I knew the blues were going to come, but that never makes it any easier.

Sometimes happy reunions make me sad. I know that’s messed up but it is what it is.

I want a happy reunion. I want someone to be looking for me.

I want somebody to take pictures of me and brag about me.

I’m not trying to hijack any recent happiness or anything, because I honestly am so incredibly full of joy for those who have reunited, but this is just how I feel right now about me. Kind of irrational and emotional. It always happens when I hear about reunions. I run on this endorphin high living vicariously through the happiness of others, but then I just fall into this incredibly unpleasant vat of self-pity.

I’m irrational and emotional with each passing year that goes by where I don’t have any matches.

Believe me; I’m not naive enough to think every reunion is a happy ending. I’ve read enough stories to know there are plenty which are anything but. But God, I want that chance. Even if it means that what is on the other end is something that’s going to make me even more depressed than I am right now, I want that chance.

This blank emptiness of knowing nothing about my birth combined with the knowledge that people who don’t know me have access to know everything about my birth is enough to entitle me to a bad day or two. Or ten thousand.


You know, something is kind of eating at me too. A memory of the conversation I had last month with the woman at court. Just one line that in retrospect has me thinking. One of her comments to me was, “they can see what they can release to you, if anything is still in there after all these years.”

I’m irritated that it’s taken me this long for a dimly lit 2 watt light bulb to go off over my head, but doesn’t this:

§ 2905. Impounding of proceedings, and access to records
(a) General Rule.-- All petitions, exhibits, reports, notes of testimony, decrees, and other papers pertaining to any proceeding under this part or former statutes relating to adoption shall be kept in the files of the courts as a permanent record thereof

mean that everything should still be in there after all these years? Yanno I’m just a dumb bastard here, but in the state of Pennsylvania, exactly how permanent is permanent supposed to be?


I’m irrational and emotional that I have not heard back from Orphan’s Court, even though I know it can take anywhere from six months to a year to get a reply. Also I’m irrational and emotional over just the phrase ‘Orphan’s Court’. Is that the most preposterous thing you’ve ever heard? Every time I think it or write it or see it all I can think is this:




And the judge looks like Mr. Bumble in my imagination too. Here's the type of response I get in my head when I ask for my adoption records:



I don’t know. I’m just blah. This lovely ice and sleet storm we’re having doesn’t make matters any better.

I am not an orphan! Adoption sucks.

I’ve gotten a few really nice emails this past week – thank you very much. If any of these people are reading this please don’t think I’m ignoring you; I’m not. I’m just really wrapped up in myself right now, and I want to be in a space when I write back to you to be one where I can really focus. I’m just in a space right now where I want to read other people’s blogs and post little short comments here and there, or vent on my own blog and post a zillion times a day. But probably this weekend I’ll write back, mmm’kay?

I’m trying to look for fun things to look forward to in order to make myself feel better. Right now I’m looking for a good tattoo artist in Long Island. I’ve been surfing around the galleries of a few of them. My cool husband has a number of tattoos, but I can’t find the card of the guy who did them. I want to get kind of a smaller training wheels tattoo first to see how I hold up to the pain. I don’t have much of a pain threshold (read: none), but I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo on my son’s 18th birthday. I’m thinking of getting a tattoo on my back in the shape of the necklace he gave me. But that would be a big job. So I’m thinking of getting a wee itty bitty one first.

But for right now, work is over. At least until my pager goes off. So I'm going to run up to the store for some smokes, make a big pot of coffee, read a few blogs, and just cry a bit.

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Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Exodus 12:12 - The Angel of Confidentiality

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For on this same night I will go through Massachusetts on the stroke of midnight, promising confidentiality of every bastard born, and executing judgment on all their right to know, I, the COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS!

I heard about this nutso bill HB 2190 on Grannie Annie's blog. This just pissed me off. So if you're born at 11:59 you get your birth certificate, but if you're born at 12:01 tough luck, kid. I made a comment that there must have been this sweeping Angel of Confidentiality flying rampant though maternity wards that evening.

So what is up in Massachusetts? Anyone know? What's the deal with this seemingly arbitrary July 17, 1974 birthdate for the cutoff on records? Was some secret illegitimate love child born to some state big-wig that day? And do adoptees in Massachusetts get to celebrate a Confidentiality Passover on that date?

By the way, don't think I'm this walking encyclopedia of bible versus. I just know Exodus 12:12 'cause The Ten Commandments was an awesome movie. Didn't that green misty angel of death scare the bejesus out of you when you were a little kid?


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Oh, the irony

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Well whadda know? Jobs, cars, homes and stuff to buy, just for us. Everybody else, keep out.

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Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I do not apologize for how I have felt; now or in the future

I have spent far too many years of my life censoring myself to make everyone happy happy happy. I censored myself to the point that when my true feelings finally did come out, they came out in a vomitus spew of hate.

I was the hip hip happy happy grateful adoptee until the realization of the motherbond I missed hit me in the face. When I couldn’t get answers to my questions, I threw anger and frustration and rage until there was nothing left inside me. When the anger and frustration and rage were not received as the expressions of pain that they truly were, I shut up and kept it all back inside again.

Happy happy joy joy. I am so grateful to be adopted and have such a great life. I am so special and chosen and lucky. I am so grateful to my natural mother for making the ultimate saintly sacrifice for my better good. I do not want to find my natural mother. Or if I do, it’s only for that most benign of reasons that makes you feel comfortable – to get my medical records.

Yadda yadda fucking yadda.


And for years that shit kept up. I’m pissed about being adopted. I don’t care that I was adopted. Why the fuck was I adopted? I am so overjoyed to be adopted.

Rage, invalidation, retreat, denial.
Lather, rinse, repeat.

It was that tattooed gangsta chick with the bullet hole scar Judy who got me started on this rant. It actually started as a response about being careful to avoid landmines but then it took a life of its own. I won’t apologize for that.

And you know, sometime, if I haven’t done so already, something I write is going to piss you the hell off. But I need for me to not censor myself anymore.

If I love my first mom, that doesn’t mean I don’t love my adoptive mom.

If I get mad at my adoptive mom, that doesn’t mean that I am somehow elevating my first mom.

If I get pissed at first moms who refuse contact, that doesn’t mean I’m pissed at all first moms.

If I get pissed at adoptive parents who post invalidating shit on the internet, that doesn’t mean I think all adoptive parents are insane baby stealers.

If I try to invoke or remember feelings I’ve had over situations I’ve experienced, in an attempt to show empathy for another’s experience, that doesn’t mean I don’t get you. On the contrary, I know fully well I don’t get it, not having your experience I’ll never fully get it.

But what it means is that I care. Even if – especially if – it comes out the wrong way. Usually, when I say the dumbest shit, that’s the stuff from the heart.

I do try and see where other people are coming from. And usually I can co-exist in peace with the most opposite of folks. Like my cool husband. If the wildly liberal PA/MA democratic agnostic lapsed catholic pagan that I am can live in peace with a moderately conservative NY republican evangelical Christian, well, then this angry adoptee can have feelings of empathy and care and hurt for first moms and adoptive moms too. And I won’t apologize for feeling that way.

I won’t apologize for feeling I have two moms.

I won’t apologize for reclaiming the childhood phrase 'my real mom' because it makes me feel real.

I won’t apologize for feeling that my adoptive mom is the first one I’d call if I had a bad day.

I won’t apologize for feeling pissed that in spite of being one of the most well-read women I have ever met, my adoptive mom has not one single adoption issue book on her bookshelves.

I won’t apologize that it’s only in my blogging that I use the terms ‘my adoptive mom’ or or 'my first mom' simply to avoid confusion in readers; that when I write ‘my adoptive mom’, or when I write 'my first mom', I am thinking ‘my mom’.

I won’t apologize for feeling pissed that my adoption feelings are the one issue I can’t be honest with her about.

And I’ll never stop hoping that people are always capable of change, and one day she’ll change, and ask me with complete and total acceptance of whatever she hears: “What does it feel to be adopted?”

I won’t apologize for feeling hurt and crying sometimes that no one registered to match with me at ISSR.

I won’t apologize for feeling hurt and crying sometimes that there is no waiver of confidentiality filed in my adoption records.

I won’t apologize for feeling hurt and crying sometimes that there are no half-brothers or sisters out there who have just found out about me and are tearing up the internet trying to find me.

And I’ll never stop hoping that it’s never to late, and one day I’ll get that email or phone call or letter.

And last but not least, I won’t apologize for feeling that I hate being adopted.

I just won’t apologize for how I feel. So if I say something that pisses you off – or actually I should change that to WHEN I say something that pisses you off, let me know. If you think I maybe need my consciousness raised, I’m all about that. And you know, if I think you’re right, then I’ll apologize for what I said – but not for what I felt.

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Loggerheads on Sundance Channel this month

Schedule for March, from Sundance

March 16, 8:00AM
March 16, 7:15PM
March 20, 4:15PM
March 28, 10:45AM
March 31, 7:05AM
March 31, 7:15PM

Official site with additional videos is here and the movie has a Myspace page as well. Unfortunately though the Myspace page is full of the usual junk nonsense comments. I'm very much looking forward to this movie.


Loggerheads

Add to My Profile | More Videos

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Monday, March 12, 2007

Likely Suspect #7: Tom Jones



She’s a Lady was obviously yet another song written about my first mother. Remember Helen of Troy and that face that launched a thousand ships crap? Well my mom was such a hottie she launched hundreds of songs.



I think I was about 6 or 7 when She’s a Lady was a big hit. My mom and aunts all loved Tommy Boy. I figured he had to be my real dad because of the curly hair bit. And I liked She’s a Lady. It’s a catchy tune. But then I started to listen to the lyrics. And I decided that even though Tom was my real dad, he was a total douche.



I figured he wrote She’s a Lady and was so busy with his mountain that she helped him build out of a little pile of clay he didn’t even notice she had hit the road. What an ass this guy was. So self absorbed. Even little grade school me could see that. So she took off and put me up for adoption in fear of being stuck with an egomaniac like that creep she hooked up with. Shit, I would have gotten rid of me too. What the hell is with this guy anyway?

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Sunday, March 11, 2007

Real Kids

Real kids have always intrigued me.

Real kids are the ones who grew up with the people who created them. What a weird concept.

What is that like? I don’t know.

To live with people who look like you. Even if they are assholes, they still are yours. What a bizarre thing.

All my life I’ve been surrounded by real kids. I’ve got one. I'm a step-mom to a few of them. I’m married to one. I was adopted by two of them. I work with them. I live next door to them. Even though I don't remember her, a real kid gave birth to me. Another real kid made her pregnant.

I like real kids, even though the majority of them don’t know shit about being adopted. And why should they? They’ve never thought about it really. It’s only when a real kid winds up somehow knowing a fake kid like me that they start to think about it.

I read a book over the weekend by a real kid that knocked my socks off. Actually that is a lie. I read the book Saturday and into Sunday... I started it when I went to bed Saturday, and it kept me up all night. And then when it was over I spent the next two hours crying.

When I came back here tonight I meant to catch up on all the blogs I wasn’t able to read last week, but instead I read back through this real kid’s archives at her blog.

Julia Scheeres is one damn cool real kid. She’s got a great blog. She’s been blogging since 2005 actually; I just never knew about her until I came across her book at Barnes & Noble this weekend. Julia Scheeres also wrote a book that kept me up all Saturday night.

Jesus Land is her story of being a real kid with an adopted brother, David, just a few months younger than her. Julia’s white. Her adopted brother David was African American. They were 16 years old in the middle of the racist Midwest. Holy crap. This is an amazing story about abuse, racism, adoption and another multi-billion dollar industry just as corrupt as the adoption machine – the horrific and despicable practice of sending ‘troubled’ teens away to tough love for-profit boot camps.


I think what I loved most about this book, bizarrely enough, is that I couldn’t relate to either Julia or David. I could kinda relate to David, being adopted, but shit I couldn’t relate to being the only African American in town. And I could kinda relate to Julia, as she’s only a few years younger than I am and has a kick-ass memory of what it feels like to be 16, as well as providing a kick-ass musical soundtrack in my head as she brought back memories of all the cool hits from the ‘80’s. But I can’t relate to being a real kid. All I could do was let their stories wash over me and listen to what she had to say. And then marvel at her as Goddess-like, she descends into the underworld of Escuela Caribe like Isis searching for her lost brother/son.

Jesus Land is an incredibly powerful book. So powerful I wanted to share it with y’all if you haven’t read it already. I’m pretty grateful I found it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some blog reading I need to catch up on.

Buy this book, you bastards! Don't forget.



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Friday, March 09, 2007

Outta here!

Have a good weekend everyone! I leave you with some cool kid drumming action. This kid at two years old plays better than me at 43. Enough to make me want to hang up my djembe for good. Nah, not really. Drumming is good therapy.

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Thursday, March 08, 2007

Read this before you sign, mmmmkay?

This is a busy busy week and I don't have a whole lot of time, but I saw a good post that I wanted to share.

Off to the right there I do have a link to the list for an open records march. I'm not trying to be mean or anything here, but I think a lot of people signing this don't understand what it is. It's not a petition for open records, it's more to get a head count for people who would be interested and available to attend a march if one were announced.

So by all means if you fall into the interested and available category sign, but please understand the purpose of it. And if you do happen to fall into the interested and available category, there is a very powerful visual over at BB Church's blog that made an impact on me and made me think. Take a peek and a read. Also I liked the idea of bypassing WDC in favor of a state legislator's annual meeting. Five months be a little close to effectively plan a showing, but that just means more time 'till next year... or the year after... or the year after that. As an adoptee, I'm all too familiar with the damn waiting, but also I'd rather do something right than do something fast.

I'm not saying the idea to march at WDC is a bad idea, I'm just asking the people who sign to understand what it is they are signing. As of this morning there are 223 signatures. Does that really mean that there are 223 bodies available to hop on a plane or make a car ride to wherever if this shindig comes to being? I'd hope so, but I'd just like to be sure.

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Tuesday, March 06, 2007

SaskatoonDad.com

The case of Baby Ian, which I first read about from Lee and Erika, has been appealed as of 2/28. Ian's dad has a site at

http://www.saskatoondad.com/

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Evolution of thought, continued from prior post


On adoption, by 13 to 15 year old me

Dude it’s fucked it’s totally fucked I tell you. I am so never having sex I swear to god you go ahead but you watch out. I’m telling you, you don’t believe me, but I read dude, like, you should try it. There is like no birth control that works right and you’ll wind up pregnant and it will totally fuck you up. I’m going to like get sterilized or something before I have sex so I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant. I am so never having kids.

And I don’t want to hear that shit about all the shit I got and how rich we are because it’s still fucked, it’s fucked, it’s totally fucked and wait don’t bogart that joint dude pass it here but anyway listen no seriously listen my mom is -- I’m like this possession to her right? Like this doll she bought so she thinks she owns me man but I’m splitting I’m so splitting this place is fucked up I’m hitch hiking to California this summer I’m outta here.

I’m going to find my real mom I bet she’s like a professor at Berkley, like teaching anthropology or some shit and I bet she’s got like this apartment with like tribal masks and shit, whoa. Yeah, I’ll find her and I’ll live with her. She wouldn’t have this bullshit 9:00 curfew man. This shit is just oppression.


On adoption, by 20 year old me

As womyn continue to be considered the chattle of the dominant male force in this society we will have no real freedom or equality. Womyn are granted the illusion of voice while keeping in lines with the male oppressor. If a womyn is young and falls along the male ordained lines of beauty she will have a brief period where she is allowed to consider herself equal, yet in reality it is only her fuckability factor that alots her this. Once she reaches a certain age her power and visibility are cast aside. The only womyn who are allotted power at this point are ones who assume for themselves a male role and embrace male energy to the detriment of other womyn.

Adoption is the ultimate male act of oppression, often forced upon young or poor girls by womyn in a role of male energy oppressor. Womyn are forced to breed for the rich and the powerful. The pregnant womyn, if not legally owned by a male, is viewed as nothing more than an ambulatory and disposable uterus. When a womyn dares to break the ordained role and display her sexuality with a pregnancy outside the chains of marriage, this forces the pig patriarchal system to extract a swift and harsh judgment in (I’ll stop here, I think you get the point.)


On adoption, by 26 year old me in the 8th month of pregnancy

Where is she? Where is she? Oh god where is she? I’ll kill them… I’ll kill them…. I will hunt down whoever forced her to give me up and I swear I will kill them. How could they? How could they do that to her? Oh god I want my mommy.. how could she stand it? How could they? How could they do this to her? Oh god…..


On adoption, by 35 year old me

See mish-mash combination of prior two items above.


On adoption, by 43 year old me

If only I had one clue, one tiny little clue. The older I get, the more I realize how little I know. But I’m learning….

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Saturday, March 03, 2007

Vote for Jenny!

Alright this is a cool website. You know those philanthropic places where people ask for money, and you’ve thought, wow, I could use some money too but my need isn’t nearly as important as this person or that person.

Well this site lets you post a money wish for anything, I mean anything, even naughty selfish wishes, and they fork over money each week to the people with the most votes.

Wow. Random. Hey I like these random people.

Anyhoooo, Jenny has been looking for her sister for a long time. She’s gone to a private investigator with a ‘no fee if no find’ guarantee. Guess what? They found.

Unfortunately during this time Jen’s husband lost his job. With three little kids money is very tight. Jen keeps looking but right now only $2,500 stands in between her and the name, address and phone number of her sister. Her mother recently passed away during this search, and that makes it hit home all the more.

So clicky clicky, si vous plait, and help Jen’s wish.

Merci.

http://www.robinhoodfund.com/cast-your-votes/wish/id/2006

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Sorry I had to

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Thursday, March 01, 2007

Evil Nun Alert

Cold Case on CBS Sunday, March 4, 9pm et/pt

The Good-Bye Room

When an adopted woman, Barbara, comes to Lilly with information that her birth mother was murdered the day after she was born, the cold case team enters the world of unwed mothers and the maternity homes where they were hidden.

Bonus evil nun video promo included.

Because she's so good at reviews, I'm hoping that Mia will have a full review posted within 30 minutes after the show ends on Sunday.

Actually I'll have to tape this and watch it afterwards. I swore to myself not to forget that Suz will be on the adoption show on Sunday. So Mia has a 90 minute window of opportunity to get that review posted.

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