Remember that round that goes...
"Make new friends
but keep the old
one is silver and
the other gold"
I had a beautiful day with both a silver friend and a gold one.
Of the silver: she's an amazing woman, a loving mom, a creative person, with a home in Brooklyn that's so welcoming & comfortable it makes you wanna move in; she has a sweet 10-month-old son and a husband who makes her laugh, and she knows everyone at the neighborhood coffee shop; with her warm smile and honest nature, I look forward to our budding friendship.
Of the gold: he's a hilarious story-teller (and has lived a life full of funny stories, which supplies him with much material), a beautifully spiritual & self-aware human being, a kind soul and an encouraging, supportive person; he inspires me with his perseverance of his creative passions, and we always have good food together; I look forward to many more years of this dear friendship.
Sometimes I forget that forging new relationships (and learning new things about old ones) is such an enjoyable & fulfilling experience.
Wife. Mother. Lover of the arts. Libra to the core. Constantly trying to find balance.
31 May, 2008
30 May, 2008
AVATAR
Here's my cartoon version of myself.
Thanks to SS for introducing me to the fun of creating your own image.
And go play on her blog, too: University of Sarah.
Check out her beautiful photography. She's rad.
12:00 PM
Anyone out there in cyberspace?
Send good thoughts to me around noon today.
More on this later...
Send good thoughts to me around noon today.
More on this later...
29 May, 2008
TO BE KIND
It's amazing how little kindness you actually need to extend to sincerely have a positive impact on someone else's day. Sometimes all it takes is a good listening ear & some spicy cauliflower & a bit of patience.
"When you have a choice between being right or being kind, choose to be kind."
I'm glad I did today.
"When you have a choice between being right or being kind, choose to be kind."
I'm glad I did today.
28 May, 2008
GRATITUDE (re-post)
I had a blog once before (not nearly as successful as this one!) and I'm thinking of deleting it, removing it from cyberspace. Therefore, every once in a while, I'm going to re-post the old posts from there to here.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Today there was a pause in my life.
There was lightness in my chest.
Today there was gratitude.
An overwhelming sense of gratitude, gratefulness for all in my life.
For all the friends.
For all the love.
For all the pain.
For all the challenges.
For all the battles.
For all the victories.
For all the laughter.
For all the sadness.
For all the changes.
For all the unknowns.
For all the constants.
And I almost fell to my knees in supplication, right on the street, when this feeling unexpectedly expanded in my chest to the point of bursting. And it took everything in me to keep my muscles from dissolving, to keep my lips sealed - instead of melting to the ground and shouting out and weeping with gratefulness. And part of me wishes that I was brave (or crazy) enough to give in to that moment, and not be worried about the people surrounding me, and not think about what must be on those streets of New York, and just sink to the ground.
But don't think for a moment that my soul was not dancing, or my heart not lifted up in praise and thanksgiving.
27 May, 2008
AUNT-HOOD
After spending a long weekend with two amazing kids, my niece & nephew, I'm reminded of how precious and wonderful life is. Even with all the pains and troubles, even with all the rough edges and frustrations - life is so good. There is an endless list of things for which I am grateful. There are joys beyond measure and smiles that come from tears. There are simple pleasures that can make you laugh for hours.
And there are blessings, and blessings, and more blessings.
25 May, 2008
TOO MUCH
A long hiatus (well, 5 days seems long to me) from blogging gives me much to think about and much to write about.
But... "it's all too much sometimes" (Julyceum - go).
How I could ever put the events of these past few days into the "little black characters" of these daily posts seems beyond me. Seems totally impossible. Entirely insufficient.
Let's just say that a lunch with old friends, a wedding with new ones, a 7-hour car ride from Chicago to Akron, and recognizing the deep importance of your family (even, and especially, your incredible niece and nephew) can seemingly change your whole world.
But... "it's all too much sometimes" (Julyceum - go).
How I could ever put the events of these past few days into the "little black characters" of these daily posts seems beyond me. Seems totally impossible. Entirely insufficient.
Let's just say that a lunch with old friends, a wedding with new ones, a 7-hour car ride from Chicago to Akron, and recognizing the deep importance of your family (even, and especially, your incredible niece and nephew) can seemingly change your whole world.
20 May, 2008
PUMP
It's quite amazing how a good pair of black pumps can make you feel like a million bucks. And they're even better with a little peek-a-boo place to show off your totally cute manicured toenails.
19 May, 2008
LAST SHOW
The last show of any project you've worked on is always bittersweet. The audience is packed, everyone who worked on the show is there, the actors are particularly emotional... it couldn't be a more supportive environment - and yet it's the last time you'll ever do that show, with those people, in those surroundings. It's unique. And I'm looking forward to tonight's last show with a smile... knowing that this won't be the last time I get to work with this group of beautiful people.
18 May, 2008
TRINITY SUNDAY
Today is Trinity Sunday. I'm not sure exactly what that means, only that I'm playing the piano for my church and the church calendar tells me it's Trinity Sunday - all of the hymns have to do with the 3-in-1. One of them's even called "The Holy Trinity".
Today is also the day that Mother Johanna (the priest at my church who's been on sabatical) is coming back. She's only been gone for 50 of her originally planned 90 days... but she wanted so badly to "be back home" that she decided to simply leave the West early and spent last week driving East.
It seems appropriate to me that both of those things are happening today. The homecoming of Mo Jo and the celebration of Trinity Sunday. Particularly since the church she is coming home to, her church, is called Holy Trinity Inwood.
Happy coincidence.
Today is also the day that Mother Johanna (the priest at my church who's been on sabatical) is coming back. She's only been gone for 50 of her originally planned 90 days... but she wanted so badly to "be back home" that she decided to simply leave the West early and spent last week driving East.
It seems appropriate to me that both of those things are happening today. The homecoming of Mo Jo and the celebration of Trinity Sunday. Particularly since the church she is coming home to, her church, is called Holy Trinity Inwood.
Happy coincidence.
17 May, 2008
WEEDS
Weeding has not always been an activity that I particularly enjoyed. As a kid, it was an annoying job that I certainly didn't want to do on a sunny summer day. But as an adult, it has become a simple task that I actually look forward to doing.
I'm off to do some weeding right now. With a group of people who will offer me coffee & donuts in exchange for my willingness to work with my hands for a few hours on a Saturday morning. When I am done pulling those pesky weeds from the earth; when the bank that right now is overgrown with vines and debris is clean and weed-free; when those few hours of clearing out the weeds has also (hopefully) cleared out some space in my head and my heart; I know I will feel the satisfaction that this simple task can bring.
Now if I only had a wide-brimmed hat and some gardening clogs so I could look the part...
I'm off to do some weeding right now. With a group of people who will offer me coffee & donuts in exchange for my willingness to work with my hands for a few hours on a Saturday morning. When I am done pulling those pesky weeds from the earth; when the bank that right now is overgrown with vines and debris is clean and weed-free; when those few hours of clearing out the weeds has also (hopefully) cleared out some space in my head and my heart; I know I will feel the satisfaction that this simple task can bring.
Now if I only had a wide-brimmed hat and some gardening clogs so I could look the part...
16 May, 2008
DECISION
It facinates me that there are so many factors that go into making a decision. Be it small or big, career or personal, simple or significant... there always seems to be yet another thing you haven't considered.
It's never simply "either / or".
It's "either / or" and the "pros / cons" that go along with choosing one over the other. It's where you are at this point in your life and choosing based on today. It's weighing your options and trying to look at the situation objectively. It's recognizing that ultimately the decision you make is the decision YOU make. And you can get all the opinions in the world, but you're the one who has to do the deciding.
It's never simply "either / or".
It's "either / or" and the "pros / cons" that go along with choosing one over the other. It's where you are at this point in your life and choosing based on today. It's weighing your options and trying to look at the situation objectively. It's recognizing that ultimately the decision you make is the decision YOU make. And you can get all the opinions in the world, but you're the one who has to do the deciding.
15 May, 2008
UP AND OUT
There are days when I actually enjoy housework. Strange, but true.
When I notice I've been feeling particularly funky for a few days, I can almost always look around at my home, my dwelling place, and notice that it's outta whack, too. Putting my place, my surroundings, back in order is an external activity that is somehow able to help straighten out my inner self.
A night of washing the dishes, dusting the shelves, making the bed; of cleaning out the fridge, putting away blankets, and clearing out half-used-never-gonna-use-again products from the bathroom is so theraputic for me.
Although I know I missed a few laughs (and some good music) by choosing to stay in tonight instead of going out with my friends... I think I really needed a good solo cleansing.
When I notice I've been feeling particularly funky for a few days, I can almost always look around at my home, my dwelling place, and notice that it's outta whack, too. Putting my place, my surroundings, back in order is an external activity that is somehow able to help straighten out my inner self.
A night of washing the dishes, dusting the shelves, making the bed; of cleaning out the fridge, putting away blankets, and clearing out half-used-never-gonna-use-again products from the bathroom is so theraputic for me.
Although I know I missed a few laughs (and some good music) by choosing to stay in tonight instead of going out with my friends... I think I really needed a good solo cleansing.
13 May, 2008
DILEMMA
When you're faced with a room full of people you haven't seen in a while - some acquaintences, some good friends, some in-between - and each person you encounter asks "How's _____?" And you're not with ____ anymore... what answer to you give? What answer, if any, do you owe them? How much of the truth? How many of the details? Or do you just say, "Oh, he's fine" and dodge the question altogether.
I suppose it depends on the intimacy level between you and the person who's asking. Because you know they're not really asking "How's _____ doing?" but "How's the relationship between you and ____ going?" And by giving in to the easy "He's fine" - aren't you then truly lying? Even if he is fine?
What's the easy one-liner way to say that you're not the same person you were a month ago...
I suppose it depends on the intimacy level between you and the person who's asking. Because you know they're not really asking "How's _____ doing?" but "How's the relationship between you and ____ going?" And by giving in to the easy "He's fine" - aren't you then truly lying? Even if he is fine?
What's the easy one-liner way to say that you're not the same person you were a month ago...
SPLITSVILLE
di-vorce. Origin 1350 - 1400.
Middle French, from Latin divortium, from divortere divertere to leave one's marriage partner, from di- away, apart + vertere to turn.
So strange to be not yet 30 and know both couples who are preparing for their marriage and couples who are finalizing their divorce. And to be single in the midst of those two extremes.
Divorce. To turn away from. To divide. To put on paper a list of things, stuff, items. And to have that list, (not the emotions or the love - or the lack of love - make the list... just the physical possessions) be the only remaining paperwork of what used to be a marriage.
mar-riage. Origin 1250 - 1300.
Middle French, from Latin divortium, from divortere divertere to leave one's marriage partner, from di- away, apart + vertere to turn.
So strange to be not yet 30 and know both couples who are preparing for their marriage and couples who are finalizing their divorce. And to be single in the midst of those two extremes.
Divorce. To turn away from. To divide. To put on paper a list of things, stuff, items. And to have that list, (not the emotions or the love - or the lack of love - make the list... just the physical possessions) be the only remaining paperwork of what used to be a marriage.
mar-riage. Origin 1250 - 1300.
11 May, 2008
MOTHER
How do you put your thoughts about your mother into words sufficient enough?
I'll try later on tonight...
I'll try later on tonight...
10 May, 2008
SUPERHERO
A shout out to someone I'm tickled to have as a new friend.
He's got a very positive new blog called A SUPERHERO EVERYDAY (partly inspired, so I'm told, by a very cool person).
His blog makes me smile. He's such a "glass half full" kinda person - it's infectious. And refreshing. He believes in the potential for everyday people to be heroic. He believes in his dreams. And true love. (He's got a great love story - maybe one of the best I've ever heard - perhaps a blog entry for another day.)
I look forward to many more writings. And many more smiles.
He's got a very positive new blog called A SUPERHERO EVERYDAY (partly inspired, so I'm told, by a very cool person).
His blog makes me smile. He's such a "glass half full" kinda person - it's infectious. And refreshing. He believes in the potential for everyday people to be heroic. He believes in his dreams. And true love. (He's got a great love story - maybe one of the best I've ever heard - perhaps a blog entry for another day.)
I look forward to many more writings. And many more smiles.
08 May, 2008
LIMITS
I don't often like to think of my "limits" - but we all have them. And we need to respect them, lest we get burned out or frustrated because we're doing things that are too far above and beyond them.
For the past month, I've basically been working 2 full-time jobs: one as a Stage Manager, one as an Executive Assistant. Individually - both are enjoyable, both make me feel capable and knowledgable. But existing simulaneously - both are leaving me feeling a bit frazzled.
I believe I've pushed my limits to the limit.
For the past month, I've basically been working 2 full-time jobs: one as a Stage Manager, one as an Executive Assistant. Individually - both are enjoyable, both make me feel capable and knowledgable. But existing simulaneously - both are leaving me feeling a bit frazzled.
I believe I've pushed my limits to the limit.
LOST KEYS
There are things that happen to us which can feel like curses at the time, but turn out to be blessings in disguise. One of them happened to me last night. A lost set of keys.
Now, I pride myself on the fact that I NEVER lose my keys. It's one thing that I really try to be particularly cautious about: always knowing where my keys are. And now that I live by myself, it's not like I can rely on a roomate to let me in.
Yesterday was a long day. An early morning, many frustrations throughout the afternoon, a "stumble through" of our play with all the technical elements involved (which is stressful for everyone), a late night... and all I wanted to do at the end of the day was get home, take off my very dirty, dusty, paint-filled clothes and go to sleep in my giant comfortable bed.
But when I got to the front door of my building: no keys. I searched. Frantically through my bag. Still no keys. Ah!, I thought - the Super has an extra set. I go to the long hallway outside leading to my Super's door. Gate. Locked. Can't even get to his door to knock. I go back to the front door, try the buzzer marked SUPE ... nothing... I open my phone to call a few friends that live nearby to see if I can crash at their place. Dead. Phone's dead. No battery.
So - I sit down on the steps and weigh the remaining 2 options. Get back on the subway and ride an hour and a half into Queens where I know there are some lovely people I can stay with (which is truly the most unappealing idea after I just spent an hour on the train getting home!) - or - walk a block and a 1/2 to the apartment where I used to live. Where I'm 99% sure a nice young man will be there who will let me sleep on his futon, no questions asked... even though it may be the more awkward and emotionally challenging of the 2 choices.
And that's what I do. And after a little crying, a small drink, and a hot shower - I feel better. And somehow, in that moment, by the grace of God alone - I am able to appreciate the goodness of friendship. And I laugh for the first time all day, with a dear soul who has always been able to make me laugh. And I fall asleep smiling to myself and thinking "if only these walls could talk - the stories they would tell!"
And there you have it: a blessing in disguise.
Now, I pride myself on the fact that I NEVER lose my keys. It's one thing that I really try to be particularly cautious about: always knowing where my keys are. And now that I live by myself, it's not like I can rely on a roomate to let me in.
Yesterday was a long day. An early morning, many frustrations throughout the afternoon, a "stumble through" of our play with all the technical elements involved (which is stressful for everyone), a late night... and all I wanted to do at the end of the day was get home, take off my very dirty, dusty, paint-filled clothes and go to sleep in my giant comfortable bed.
But when I got to the front door of my building: no keys. I searched. Frantically through my bag. Still no keys. Ah!, I thought - the Super has an extra set. I go to the long hallway outside leading to my Super's door. Gate. Locked. Can't even get to his door to knock. I go back to the front door, try the buzzer marked SUPE ... nothing... I open my phone to call a few friends that live nearby to see if I can crash at their place. Dead. Phone's dead. No battery.
So - I sit down on the steps and weigh the remaining 2 options. Get back on the subway and ride an hour and a half into Queens where I know there are some lovely people I can stay with (which is truly the most unappealing idea after I just spent an hour on the train getting home!) - or - walk a block and a 1/2 to the apartment where I used to live. Where I'm 99% sure a nice young man will be there who will let me sleep on his futon, no questions asked... even though it may be the more awkward and emotionally challenging of the 2 choices.
And that's what I do. And after a little crying, a small drink, and a hot shower - I feel better. And somehow, in that moment, by the grace of God alone - I am able to appreciate the goodness of friendship. And I laugh for the first time all day, with a dear soul who has always been able to make me laugh. And I fall asleep smiling to myself and thinking "if only these walls could talk - the stories they would tell!"
And there you have it: a blessing in disguise.
TECH
Wow. Tech rehearsals sure do take up a lot of one's time!
Particularly when you're doing them "the Jaradoa way" which includes everyone pitching in all day, every day, as many hours as you can or want, doing whatever it is that you feel you can do (build, paint, sand, wash, drill, nail)... it's like the old high school way of doing theatre - build your own set and then act on it. Except that the people are a little more experienced than your average 10th grader.
Particularly when you're doing them "the Jaradoa way" which includes everyone pitching in all day, every day, as many hours as you can or want, doing whatever it is that you feel you can do (build, paint, sand, wash, drill, nail)... it's like the old high school way of doing theatre - build your own set and then act on it. Except that the people are a little more experienced than your average 10th grader.
05 May, 2008
BEGGING
Sometimes when I pray (and oh, do I pray - more often now than ever before) I feel like a begging child. "Please God. Please can you just give me this one thing? Just this one. And I'll never ask for another thing ever again." Which of course, I don't mean. It's inevitable that I'll ask for other things - isn't that part of being human in the 21st century, always wanting more?
And what happens when God has plans for your life that are not matching up with the plans that you feel you've been laying for years - plans that you've tended to and cultivated; plans that you've daydreamed about and have been relying on; plans that truly, truly make you happy. What happens when those plans fail? I'd tell you, but you wouldn't believe me. I'd tell you, if I could - but I barely understand what's happening myself.
I suppose that's why it's so important to me - while bearing this, my cross at the moment - to believe in a God who passes understanding.
Now, if I could only trust that enough to stop begging.
And what happens when God has plans for your life that are not matching up with the plans that you feel you've been laying for years - plans that you've tended to and cultivated; plans that you've daydreamed about and have been relying on; plans that truly, truly make you happy. What happens when those plans fail? I'd tell you, but you wouldn't believe me. I'd tell you, if I could - but I barely understand what's happening myself.
I suppose that's why it's so important to me - while bearing this, my cross at the moment - to believe in a God who passes understanding.
Now, if I could only trust that enough to stop begging.
04 May, 2008
NOW & NOT YET
Lately, I've been wrestling with this concept of "living in the present". Not longing to be put back into the past when everything seemed better (even if it really wasn't) and not longing to rush toward the future (when hopefully everything will be better).
It's a tough concept. And I believe wrestling is the right word for what I'm doing with it. I'm struggling. Sometimes I feel pinned down. Sometimes I feel I'm going head-to-head with the present moment. Sometimes I'm angry at it - wanting it to be something that it's not. Sometimes I feel like I'm winning... 1... 2... and then the Present shoves her shoulder up off the ground right before the count of 3.
Today during the sermon at church, an appropriate statement was made to capture this way that I'm feeling: "We are all balancing between the Now and the Not Yet."
And I do feel like I'm balancing - perhaps precariously, and with a BIG long pole to help me not fall off the tightrope. But balancing, nonetheless.
It's a tough concept. And I believe wrestling is the right word for what I'm doing with it. I'm struggling. Sometimes I feel pinned down. Sometimes I feel I'm going head-to-head with the present moment. Sometimes I'm angry at it - wanting it to be something that it's not. Sometimes I feel like I'm winning... 1... 2... and then the Present shoves her shoulder up off the ground right before the count of 3.
Today during the sermon at church, an appropriate statement was made to capture this way that I'm feeling: "We are all balancing between the Now and the Not Yet."
And I do feel like I'm balancing - perhaps precariously, and with a BIG long pole to help me not fall off the tightrope. But balancing, nonetheless.
03 May, 2008
OVERHEARD
These are among the many things I overheard today, while walking around the streets of this bustling city...
From a 15-year-old-ish young man to his 2 friends: "If I ever end up homeless, I think I'll be okay - 'cause I can sing."
From a well-put-together mother to her shy, overweight daughter: "Just... just get away from me!!"
From a gal in her 20's to the guy walking with her: "He's not gay. He does like girls, okay."
From a man to the woman with him, (while they mindlessly walked past a guy playing Take 5 on the sax): "Do you think that living in New York makes you less aware of the sounds around you?" And the woman replied: "Why? Because there are so many?"
From a toddler to his mom, while riding on his dad's shoulders: "Mom! Its spitting on my face!" (It was misting, not even barely drizzling.) And then when the mom tried to put his hood up: "No! I like it."
I like it, too.
From a 15-year-old-ish young man to his 2 friends: "If I ever end up homeless, I think I'll be okay - 'cause I can sing."
From a well-put-together mother to her shy, overweight daughter: "Just... just get away from me!!"
From a gal in her 20's to the guy walking with her: "He's not gay. He does like girls, okay."
From a man to the woman with him, (while they mindlessly walked past a guy playing Take 5 on the sax): "Do you think that living in New York makes you less aware of the sounds around you?" And the woman replied: "Why? Because there are so many?"
From a toddler to his mom, while riding on his dad's shoulders: "Mom! Its spitting on my face!" (It was misting, not even barely drizzling.) And then when the mom tried to put his hood up: "No! I like it."
I like it, too.
02 May, 2008
LUMINOUS PARTICULAR
I've always wondered what it was - IS - about poetry that is comforting, even though it doesn't actually answer any of the questions or repair any of the heartache...
Here's what writer Russell Leigh Sharman offers up:
"One moment, one event crystallized, reduced and offered up in words so you can hold it in your hands, turn it over, feel its weight. Poetry doesn't solve anything. It just makes the questions deeper, makes the puzzle into a pattern that might not have a solution but at least you can see it better. See it clearer."
Here's what writer Russell Leigh Sharman offers up:
"One moment, one event crystallized, reduced and offered up in words so you can hold it in your hands, turn it over, feel its weight. Poetry doesn't solve anything. It just makes the questions deeper, makes the puzzle into a pattern that might not have a solution but at least you can see it better. See it clearer."
RESPONSE TO PROTEST
Great response to PROTEST by a good friend (and a smart lady, with a great perspective):
"I think the officers' behavior was right on... it sounds as though theprotestors were doing so in a peaceful manner, the officers were there justin case, for the safety of the protestors and for the public. Especially,if this was in response to the Sean Bell case, any show of angst, ortension on behalf of the NYPD would just add fuel to the fire. The behavioryou observed by the NYPD, I believe, was the absolute best possibleresponse they could have displayed. Had they shown up at the protest infull up riot gear or with weapons drawn... all hell would have broke loose-"police officers trying to silence the voices". By appearing relaxed andunconcerned- the officers provided a safe environment for the protestors toraise their voices and have their emotions, concerns, and freedom of speechhonored. As a woman who is preparing to marry a police officer, I can tellyou- those officers only appeared relaxed. Officers are, either by natureor training, constantly aware of their surroundings, and literally ready torespond on a split seconds notice. So while you think you saw officers"hanging out like it was no big deal"- what you really saw was officers,keeping the peace by actions- not words and threats of violence."
"I think the officers' behavior was right on... it sounds as though theprotestors were doing so in a peaceful manner, the officers were there justin case, for the safety of the protestors and for the public. Especially,if this was in response to the Sean Bell case, any show of angst, ortension on behalf of the NYPD would just add fuel to the fire. The behavioryou observed by the NYPD, I believe, was the absolute best possibleresponse they could have displayed. Had they shown up at the protest infull up riot gear or with weapons drawn... all hell would have broke loose-"police officers trying to silence the voices". By appearing relaxed andunconcerned- the officers provided a safe environment for the protestors toraise their voices and have their emotions, concerns, and freedom of speechhonored. As a woman who is preparing to marry a police officer, I can tellyou- those officers only appeared relaxed. Officers are, either by natureor training, constantly aware of their surroundings, and literally ready torespond on a split seconds notice. So while you think you saw officers"hanging out like it was no big deal"- what you really saw was officers,keeping the peace by actions- not words and threats of violence."
01 May, 2008
PROTEST
In Union Square Park today, there was a protest (for what I think was in response to the outcome of the Sean Bell trial). News vans and reporters flooded the area. Hundreds of protesters were there. Loud speakers that overwhelmed the square with chants of mumbled crowd pleasing ranting.
And on our way across the park, a friend and I passed about 20 police officers who were there obviously to "keep the peace"... but they were laughing and hanging out, some with cups of coffee, some with bags of chips, some sitting on the ground, some talking to people passing by.
Now, I'm not at all making judgements about the cops or the protesters - I don't feel particularly engaged on either side of the debate. But if I'm correct in thinking that it was about the Sean Bell trial - and there were those police officers there, hanging out like it was no big deal - something about that strikes me as a bit surreal.
Good material for an absurdist play?
And on our way across the park, a friend and I passed about 20 police officers who were there obviously to "keep the peace"... but they were laughing and hanging out, some with cups of coffee, some with bags of chips, some sitting on the ground, some talking to people passing by.
Now, I'm not at all making judgements about the cops or the protesters - I don't feel particularly engaged on either side of the debate. But if I'm correct in thinking that it was about the Sean Bell trial - and there were those police officers there, hanging out like it was no big deal - something about that strikes me as a bit surreal.
Good material for an absurdist play?
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