Getting twitchy.
Jul. 22nd, 2002 11:07 amI don't have much longer here. Normally at the end of a trip, even a bad one, I don't want to go home. Going home means everything is normal again and ordinary and ties into the lesson in high school physics class that if an object goes 500 miles and then returns to where it started, it doesn't count as having traveled at all, 'cos there's not any net distance left. But this time, I really do want to go home.
I've gained weight here, mostly 'cos I don't like the hotel gym. I'm not happy about that. I've missed karate classes, too, which really doesn't make me happy. I'll be able to help people at home, just like I helped them here; the only difference is I won't be able to get away from the ones at home. Ah, well. At least I'll have Jockey Hollow and Great Swamp back, and my own Net connection, and telnet, and the ability to call friends.
Meanwhile, still got people to help here. 12,000 houses/apartments/mobile homes affected by the flood so far. People allll over the place that we're working with to get cleaned up before the Toxic Mold of Death sets in. (For once I'm not joking. They get killer toxic mold down here after floods. It really is the Toxic Mold of Death.) People we're feeding, sheltering, clothing, etc. All thanks to the generosity of the American people. I know that sounds trite, but it's true - see, Red Cross doesn't receive government money. We get all our $ from donations. No tax stuff, no budget stuff on Capitol Hill, no nothin'. People, corporations, United Ways (which is still people, just at a remove), and grant programs. That's it. All of what we're doing here, we're doing because Americans wanna help other Americans when things suck. And something like 90 percent of the people on this mission are volunteers, too. I'm a paid employee and I'm very much the exception. For the most part, this operation is folks who said 'sure, I'll go down to Texas and help', and whose only recompense is a $500 advance to pay for 21 days of food, laundry, and gasoline.
It's cool stuff. Helps me, remembering that when I get whiny.
Doesn't mean I don't still wanna go home, but at least it's cool stuff.
I've gained weight here, mostly 'cos I don't like the hotel gym. I'm not happy about that. I've missed karate classes, too, which really doesn't make me happy. I'll be able to help people at home, just like I helped them here; the only difference is I won't be able to get away from the ones at home. Ah, well. At least I'll have Jockey Hollow and Great Swamp back, and my own Net connection, and telnet, and the ability to call friends.
Meanwhile, still got people to help here. 12,000 houses/apartments/mobile homes affected by the flood so far. People allll over the place that we're working with to get cleaned up before the Toxic Mold of Death sets in. (For once I'm not joking. They get killer toxic mold down here after floods. It really is the Toxic Mold of Death.) People we're feeding, sheltering, clothing, etc. All thanks to the generosity of the American people. I know that sounds trite, but it's true - see, Red Cross doesn't receive government money. We get all our $ from donations. No tax stuff, no budget stuff on Capitol Hill, no nothin'. People, corporations, United Ways (which is still people, just at a remove), and grant programs. That's it. All of what we're doing here, we're doing because Americans wanna help other Americans when things suck. And something like 90 percent of the people on this mission are volunteers, too. I'm a paid employee and I'm very much the exception. For the most part, this operation is folks who said 'sure, I'll go down to Texas and help', and whose only recompense is a $500 advance to pay for 21 days of food, laundry, and gasoline.
It's cool stuff. Helps me, remembering that when I get whiny.
Doesn't mean I don't still wanna go home, but at least it's cool stuff.