it's the 2nd anniversary of the iraq war (actually, i think it might be the 20th of march...) and i went to a protest in the city. it was in central park, at 97th st, but the cops blocked off the park at 97th st, and we went in around 103rd st (making it a MUCH longer and more confusing walk, and mostly, for a power trip; they loved saying "park's closed, you have to enter at 103rd st"--and only there in the park to attend this poorly attended protest.). i have a horrid cold, and am having trouble breathing, with sucks with the large number of activist smokers (why, dont you realize how those corporate cigarette companies are fucking you? they dont care if you get cancer, they try to prevent people from saying it's true!), and my voice is somewhat gone (a bad thing for a radical cheerleader). the crowd was kind of lazy, lying around, most of the speakers were uninspiring (although howard zinn and patti smith were there). we cheered throughout the crowd. they LOVED "my bush is better" and "supersonic" always get a laugh when we say, "george bush, clap, stomp, clap, you motherfucker!" then we had a protest in the streets, marching around and it felt almost pointless. like fun but when we left, we were supposed to march to bloomberg's house and nothing happened when we passed the block. oh well.
i think this is also because i'm depressed. i am confused about what is my life..an opportunity for a fulbright fellowship came in my mailbox today...and i am thinking, thinking a lot about applying. i LOVE new york city, but then i feel so empty. my job is not my life; my job is not my career. i think is partially b/c t is away and it makes me question everything. and also because i'm sick, and i have a huge paper due in 2 wks that i haven't started yet on a difficult topic. ugh.
i'm going to make vegetarian meatballs and angel hair pasta and try to perk up. i'm so exhausted. my large cat is also tired, as she is sleeping, as usual. i think her and trevor were separated at birth.
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