Showing posts with label activism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label activism. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 14, 2025

after all that, last weekend

Friday morning I worked on an essay then covered my new producers' butts. Last week I had to do double the work because of their mistakes. I fretted over whether to--this once--help them out, to build trust and show I'm part of the team, or to send a cold overage fee email. Turned in my revisions just before I had to rush out for my activist meeting.

I'm heading a new environmental initiative. It's proving unpleasant as the group is all flakey 20somethings. I feel conflicted about how to elder them. Do I use tough love and teach them how to Do Things or do I get out now, to preserve my sanity? Is it more important I pull them along or let them realize failure will be the result of bailing? What did 30somethings do for me when I was 25? Of course, when I was 25 I would have never had the audacity to cancel twenty minutes before a session and text, "Can you set up a Zoom hybrid option?" Oh, this just occurred to me: is Gen Z so weirdly demanding/entitled because they've learned to be ruthless with corporations? Fair enough if so. I wish I'd been much more demanding with corporations and bosses when I was younger. ...Only Gen Z has trouble distinguishing what's a corporation and what isn't. Like, sure, if you get paid minimum wage, be late and disorganized for work. But maybe don't treat a fellow volunteer that way? Riffing.

I decided to wear a black leotard and "artists for ceasefire" pin to the comedy theatre. I felt so disappointed by my performance. Mainly because the show was actually perfect for me--I should have blown it out of the water. And I did just okay. To be fair, it was so hot in there. My brain can't rhyme as quickly in the heat. The audience suggestion was about nepo babies! I played Jeff Bezos's daughter! Who snuck off to do her first play! And only wanted her dad to be proud of her! Plenty of hijinks about my character taking a helicopter to rehearsal, bringing the cast Rolexes, eating filet mignon on snack breaks. It all culminated in a huge finale! The faux opening night! Z (as Jeff Bezos) sat in the front row! The lights dimmed! Hart--playing the director--pushed me to center stage! The piano vamped...! And I fumbled. I struggled with the lyrics and I barely danced and I really wanted my character to find herself instead of approval from her dad.... Next thing I knew, I was bowing and giving the "get home safe speech." The show must go on. Or the show must end. One of the two.

In the green room we all slumped onto the couches. The guys tossed out their favorite parts. I was feeling like a loser when the door creaked open...and the special guest for the next show walked in. A rising movie star. Everyone whipped their heads over to spy her. She looked at me and said, "Alice! AB just sent me your script today!" Wow. Had to be a top circumstances-are-making-me-look-cool moment of life. We hugged and gabbed and R snuck in to say "good show."

I walked out of the side exit where Z was standing against the brick wall. We small talked a little. We've been performing together every few months for six years, but we'd never talked more than ten minutes. We chatted for quite a while, lingering in that space of wondering if the other person is bored or not. About forty minutes later I asked, "what are you doing right now?" I pointed to the Mexican restaurant. We went in and sat at the bar. I asked if he was ambitious and he said he'd never been asked so directly, but yes!

I tromped home around 10, listening to TS of course. Saw a coyote by the park, a teen holding a big bag a few blocks later. I sidestepped him, a bit on edge with no one around. I skipped the song that was playing, looked up from my phone...and saw a man running AT me! I yelped and froze and then realized...it was Puhg. He's been upping his scares. This was a good one. "I really thought I might die!" I laughed as we trotted home.

On Saturday I slept in, made vicious to-do lists for the week ahead at the cafe, zipped home to transfer all my files onto my new computer. I hate such tasks, have been putting it off for months. But I did it, then rewarded myself with the first pool day of 2025! Sunscreen on, new Beach Bunny album in, taking notes for a new short story. The dip was excellent. Puhg suggested a date night around 7:30. I walked down to the gas station and bought a bag of jalapeƱo chips, got fresh mango from the cart out front, made my way to the knoll and my tree.

There's a tree with red bumps I've been spending a lot of time with. I like to lay under the shade and wave at her leaves. The traffic was atrocious so Puhg suggested the taco shop 1.5 miles away. A hefty walk, but a walk nonetheless. I had two vegan corn ones and we saw L____, who was picking up a to-go order. I saw JB's boyfriend at the next table over but couldn't remember his name even though we went to a haunted house together once. At the crosswalk, a car blasted its horn, screeching to a stop an inch in front of me. Puhg indignantly pointed at the flashing lights, at us, standing there. The car squealed around, honking more, making a big scene. A few people on the sidewalk witnessed all of it. One of them shouted out, "You're even wearing bright colors!" Indeed, Puhg was in orange shorts, me a neon pink shirt.

Sunday morning I woke up early to dance then gather some donuts. Puhg stepped out for a walk and cartons of iced coffee. We bopped over the movies, for the 9:35 AM showing of Friendship. We laughed a lot. "Not even noon!" Puhg said pulling into our parking spot. Called my mom for her holiday. After lunch I read on the balcony. Saw a huge spider on the wall, talked for a little bit. I took a selfie of us, texted it to Puhg, he came out to join. The spider got shy and hid under a corner of astroturf. I sent a ton of emails.

At least once an hour I felt the slime of shame slither through my body. Still thinking about that show. How I biffed it. I started to become superstitious even. Like what if my entire life was leading up to that moment, to inspire the children I saw in the audience to despise oligarchs and follow their hearts? I try to do a meditation but fall asleep on the floor.

Monday afternoon I am so upset with myself I decide to buy the livestream of the show for $10. I know it will be a painful watch, but I need to know exactly what happened. Come to find...I wasn't that bad at all. I wasn't off-key. And in the finale?! The context made everything work! My little dance moves were small and reliable enough that two guys were mirroring them behind me. A battle happened stage right! Perfectly timed with my chorus! I hadn't remembered a verse I sang about believing in myself more than my dad Jeff Bezos?! Everything rhymed?! The performance was...good?! Could I have written it slightly better? Maybe? But maybe not! Objectively, a 10/10! After all that!

Monday, January 6, 2014

Blackfish Is the Smartest Dumb Thing

Everyone loves Blackfish. Every. Single. Person. It's a well-made doc, it's streaming on Netflix, and it brings out everyone's inner activist. And our inner activist is a good person who we like! But also our inner activist is annoying because our inner activist makes us go out of our way to be that good person. It's always totally worth it, but we forget and stuff!

Blackfish's genius is twofold:

1. It's the least controversial concept ever. Literally no one is on the other side of "Hmm, should we made happy and free whales insane for our lame enjoyment?" You can argue animals don't deserve rights, but you're not gonna argue against flat out cruelty and shady biz. You're just not. So, unlike many powerful documentaries, everyone can agree on it's message. You can bring up Blackfish to any race, creed, politically affiliated person, and everyone's on the same page. And that feels nice. We like to agree!

2. In order to "support the cause" you literally don't have to do anything. To be on the "right" side of the issue you just have to not go to an expensive theme park.

So, like, this explains why people don't freak out with love about Food Inc.? Because doing things is, like, too much! BUT, I just want to say that ACTUALLY being a vegetarian is ALSO just a lack of doing something! Just don't eat meat, y'all. If you'd be bummed about a sad whale, imagine a piglet?

I swear the meat industry has hypnotized our entire culture to forget everything we ever learn about animal processing. I was on the PETA website yesterday to find a rude/true fact I could post under Shells' Instagram of a sausage pizza. Maybe with an emoji pig idk...and I got so sucked in. The hard cold facts are just so sad. Pigs are smarter than dogs. Many never stand in their lives--crammed into steel cages. They are born and murdered in fear. I decide to dedicate my life to the cause and then five minutes later I'm just Googling the cast of Full House. Again.

This is why I'm glad to be a veg. I do forget how bad it is, but when I remember I'm able to wipe my brow and be like, "Oh yeah, I'm not supporting it. Thank goodness." Of course, I'm still not a vegan. #Guilt But, I make steps. I think about it. When I remember to.

Last night, pretty shortly after I had just been sucked into PETA-land, Ro came home and announced a bird had fallen from a tree onto the hood of her car. The little thing was puffy and grey, heaving like mad, cold and impaired. It was heart-breaking. As it was Sunday night we figured the lil baby was going to die before we could get it to a wildlife refuge today. We decided the least we could do is keep it warm as it passed, so I got out a shoebox and some berries. I put on gloves to handle the bird, but when we went back outside it was on the ground. When we approached it shot up and flew in a circle--clearly still injured. But at that point we were just scaring it, so we wished it well as it nestled into a bush.

I don't love animals.* I really don't. It takes me a long time to form an appreciative bond with them. I don't just see humans and decide to be ga-ga over them. Same for kittens. But for how heavy my heart was in the ten minutes I thought about that bird withering away in the night alone, you'd think it was my human child. And that's just nature.

Ro and I sat at the kitchen table with bird care webpages open. I asked, "After something like that..how does anyone eat animals? Literally all animals in factories are tortured in some way." She kind of grimaced and said, "Well, that bird wasn't raised to be eaten. Those animals were." And I sort of laugh/shrugged. "Like slaves you mean? Like how slaves' purpose in the United States were just to serve, so they were treated terribly?" We laughed. Not because slavery is funny, and I'm not directly comparing animals to slaves. I understand one is human and one isn't...but I can't understand that there is much of a difference in matters of cruelty.

South Carolina swine.
Live like a Pharaoh, sing like a sparrow.

*Except I do lose my brains for bats. Man, bats are cool.