on being solar powered

so technically my room has a window. it's just that it faces nik's room, rather than outside. we've had countless conversations through that wonderful window. i mean, it's a full-on window-in-the-sill-in-the-middle-of-my-purple-wall window. and although nik's smile brightens any room, she's not that big, beautiful ball of gas in the sky.

winter in Chicago hasn't been too cold, but it's been bleak. days of glorious sun have been sparing, to say the least. it's been a winter of joy regarding mitchell, but utter depression regarding this sunshine-deficient sky.

i remember feeling absolutely teased last winter. i would look out my fifth story wall-sized matching windows and see brilliant blue skies. i would walk outside in a vest and then RUN back in to put on about six more layers of warming mechanisms. not so this winter. no bright blue skies. just dreary gray ones. i know because i've glimpsed them through nikki's windows as i lie on my bed, curled in a little ball.

i used to see SAD in books and giggle a little. it's no less than a little ironic [or maybe the opposite of ironic?] that seasonal affective disorder makes people SAD. having spent most of my life in the sunniest place on earth [exaggerating? yes...] i never thought for a second that i would take issue with endless days of no sun. i actually bought a high-wattage lamp. and you know what? the lamp burned out after 5 days. who knew you're not supposed to run them non-stop.

lack of sunlight. it makes me do weird things. like, get really, really pale. i mean, like anemic pale. dr. hurricane actually asked me "what's wrong with you? you look sick" a few weeks ago. i mean, that's saying something.

the sun was shining the other day. positively streaming in the front window of the bus, reflecting off of glass storefronts. i just started at the sun. i know that's like, supposed to burn your corneas or something [or is it your retinas?] but it felt deliciously wonderful to lap up golden sunshine. i could literally feel my serotonin levels rising like a flood.

so, i think i'm solar powered. at least, i know my emotions are. in the last few days of sun i have felt free from burdens. i have felt full of energy. i have actually wanted to take long walks outside.

i wonder if this is what bears feel like coming out of hibernation. do bears get depressed?

hrmmm. so, the good news is that even though my room only has one non-outside facing window, my heart is filled with light again. just thought you'd like to know.

monday moment

it's taken 6 months. i've lived here for 6 months and been treated with a surprising amount of respect by most of the men in the neighborhood. awkward smiles, waves, kind hellos. not the kind of thing i expected when thinking about moving into this neighborhood.

what i was expecting was a little more like...today.

today's monday moment is brought to you by dumb white people. it involves two white guys and two black guys, walking around together. i was returning from a brisk walk on this warm day [about 32 i think?]. i had gone to the letter bin to drop off some mail for a break from studying theology of the Church.

so i'm about 20 feet from the lock on my gate, key ready, excited to get back to studying. and food. excited to get inside and eat some warm, homemade soup, really. and then i saw them.

no offense white people, but for who knows what reason, i just knew they would say something to me. and by something i don't mean a polite "hello miss, have a wonderful day!" i mean, i just felt like they were going to say something to me. you know?

so they're like, a hundred feet away, moseying down the sidewalk and i'm thinking about how glad i am that my key is already out.

"hey look, dirty white b*tch."
"yeah, casper the friendly ghost!"

oooooooh, super original guys. you know what the neighborhood men call me? señora. hispanic men twice my age are polite enough to extend a formal greeting. but not white guys my own age. now don't get me wrong, i get the occasional "hey baby" from black or hispanic guys my age, but "dirty white b*tch" ?? really? were they hoping i would respond with exuberance to their purposeless idiocy?

40 feet and counting...as i adeptly slipped into my gate (now suddenly thankful that i have to unlock and re-lock 3 deadbolts to get into my house) they continued their clever verbal assault. really clever, they repeated the same things until i responded.

all i could come up with was, "hello gentlemen, have a wonderful afternoon." they kept calling out "casper" like it was the funniest thing in the world. the two black guys with them didn't say anything.

ethnic and cultural identity still confuses me. if i was a young black woman, would black men feel comfortable giving me grief? if i was puerto rican, would men ask me if i was "working? you working?" [as a prostitute...] more often? i think i felt my roommie's pain for the first time today. she's always getting hassled by young black men. and yet, to me, they say a shy, polite hello with their heads down.

what do i represent to them that they are unwilling to treat me with disrespect? i don't get it.

what do i represent to the white guys this afternoon that they were willing to treat me with nothing but disrespect? i don't get it.

i wish i would have asked them something about knowing the redeeming love of Jesus Christ instead of wishing them a wonderful afternoon. but i didn't...

hrmmm...back to theology of the Church.