Neil Abercrombie, governor of Hawaii, signed a bill yesterday legalizing civil unions in the state. As we’ve been discussing, this bill has been long awaited but was vetoed by then-governor Linda Lingle.
Civil unions are expected to go into effect on January 1, 2012. The Advocate reports:
“This signing today of this measure says to all in the world that all are welcome – that everyone is a brother and a sister in paradise,” Abercrombie said at the bill’s signing.
“For me, this bill represents equal rights for everyone in Hawaii and everyone who comes here. This is for me the essence of the aloha spirit.”
Anyone know how to convert a .mp4 file into a .wav file….or anything compatible with bandcamp?
I recorded my radio show on Saturday using Garage Band and bandcamp.com won’t recognize the file as an .mp4…but I would very much like to upload my show as a podcast so friends who missed it can listen!
Much to my dual bemusement and chagrin, we have a snow day today here in my Western Massachusetts college. I really did not think colleges had snow days, but apparently when there’s three feet of blasphemous white flakes outside and we’re anticipating a another two to three, classes are called off campus-wide.
I’m learning all these new things everyday!
This all being said, I realized I haven’t written a real blog post in quite some time, so I thought this an apt time to spill my guts to the internet….kind of. So, what exactly have I been up to lately?
COLLEGE. It’s so great. Classes have begun and I am, once again, lost in awe of how much I love where I go to school, my professors, my roommates, my friends, and how many blessings I’ve been given every single day! In a list:
$250 spent on books, everything from the Bhagavad Gita (for my nonviolence versus violence seminar) to the Astérix comic book (on Cléopâtre) to a book of collected, translated Russian poetry. Worth it.
A new pair of jeans. Exactly like my old pair, but now I own four pair of pants instead of three. EXCELLENT.
A page-long essay completed.
A room moved into and redecorated.
Lots of planning for my radio show which (fingers crossed) I’ll be able to announce more details about next week!! And the special guests I’ve been lining up!
A bag of Red Vines, gone. Two bags of Milanos, gone. Two classes of Musical Theatre Jazz taken to make up for my southern sweet tooth.
An addiction to DOCTOR WHO developped. I will soon need rehab to catch up on the rest of my life.
A monologue memorized! Mostly. For the performance of The Vagina Monologues in just over a week!
Okay, that is all for now. Maybe I’ll post pretty pictures?
You’re beautiful. What’s the best thing going on in your life right now?
Current Jam: “Burning Down the House” Talking Heads. A Dad Classic.
Best thing going on in my life right now: Being INSIDE while the snow is NOT.
While, in a turn of events, I won’t be taking English this semester I did sit in on the class today. We read this; I was moved, therefore it is here now.
Here, above, cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight. The whole shadow of Man is only as big as his hat. It lies at his feet like a circle for a doll to stand on, and he makes an inverted pin, the point magnetized to the moon. He does not see the moon; he observes only her vast properties, feeling the queer light on his hands, neither warm nor cold, of a temperature impossible to records in thermometers.
But when the Man-Moth pays his rare, although occasional, visits to the surface, the moon looks rather different to him. He emerges from an opening under the edge of one of the sidewalks and nervously begins to scale the faces of the buildings. He thinks the moon is a small hole at the top of the sky, proving the sky quite useless for protection. He trembles, but must investigate as high as he can climb.
Up the façades, his shadow dragging like a photographer’s cloth behind him he climbs fearfully, thinking that this time he will manage to push his small head through that round clean opening and be forced through, as from a tube, in black scrolls on the light. (Man, standing below him, has no such illusions.) But what the Man-Moth fears most he must do, although he fails, of course, and falls back scared but quite unhurt.
Then he returns to the pale subways of cement he calls his home. He flits, he flutters, and cannot get aboard the silent trains fast enough to suit him. The doors close swiftly. The Man-Moth always seats himself facing the wrong way and the train starts at once at its full, terrible speed, without a shift in gears or a gradation of any sort. He cannot tell the rate at which he travels backwards.
Each night he must be carried through artificial tunnels and dream recurrent dreams. Just as the ties recur beneath his train, these underlie his rushing brain. He does not dare look out the window, for the third rail, the unbroken draught of poison, runs there beside him. He regards it as a disease he has inherited the susceptibility to. He has to keep his hands in his pockets, as others must wear mufflers.
If you catch him, hold up a flashlight to his eye. It’s all dark pupil, an entire night itself, whose haired horizon tightens as he stares back, and closes up the eye. Then from the lids one tear, his only possession, like the bee’s sting, slips. Slyly he palms it, and if you’re not paying attention he’ll swallow it. However, if you watch, he’ll hand it over, cool as from underground springs and pure enough to drink.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”—C.S. Lewis (The Four Loves)