All right, y'all. Time for some good ol' fashioned, home-cooked, grassroots advocacy. The following addendum is currently under consideration by the Virginia General Assembly:
HB 2372 - Mandatory Reporting for Child Abuse and Neglect
Requires any regular minister, priest, rabbi, or accredited practitioner, including a duly accredited Christian Science practitioner, to report suspected child abuse or neglect to a local department of social services or the Department of Social Services' toll-free child abuse and neglect hotline. The bill does not require the reporting of privileged communications between such individuals and the persons they counsel or advise.
This is what I've been fighting for. Please do a favor for me and all the children in Virginia by contacting your local representatives in the Virginia General Assembly and supporting this legislation. Contacting a couple of random ones wouldn't hurt either. Once we require priests and other religious to report child abuse and neglect, kids will have a higher chance of getting treatment and our ministers' boundaries of liability finally will be clear. A minister fits the bill of "human service professional" as well as any teacher, doctor, social worker, counselor, or school administrator that is already required to report abuse.
Thank you for your strength in numbers and in love.
( 1:20 AM ) Meghan
Monday, January 27, 2003
I should probably post some details on this weekend...at least for the purposes of posterity. Vague sentiments only hold value when the memories are fresh.
Blacksburg was especially wonderful this weekend, since I almost didn't make it. Cynthia and I started out with no trouble from NoVA, but around Lexington, the battery light in my car came on. Concerned, I called my dad and stopped at two gas stations--all of whom couldn't help me mechanically, but gave excellent advice (and prayers upon request). So we had no choice, but to keep truckin' down the highway, freezing in darkness to conserve as much battery power as possible. I was getting exhausted, but the adrenaline was keeping me nervous and awake...awake enough to notice that the dashboard had grown dimmer and our battery supply was almost gone. I needed an exit right then and there, and there it was. No cars blocked our passage, and I made it exactly one more mile to a Citgo station. All of a sudden, like a soul leaving a body, I felt the power steering go and the car died on the access ramp to the station. Catherine came to retrieve us about 18 miles from our destination, and we had my car towed to Duncan's Hokie Honda the next morning for (highly laudable) same-day repairs.
I received alot of love and comfort after that...far more than I probably needed. All of my friends (some ancient, some very new) played a supporting role--warm hugs, cathartic listening; a glass of wine, mediation; substantial rides, alot of waiting; calming me in crisis, and taking over when I was finally able to fall apart. I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself once the crisis was averted. I am forever thankful that everyone else did.
The "what-ifs" give me great pause. What if we hadn't hit that traffic in Manassass? What if I hadn't filled up in Harrisonburg? What if we hadn't stayed at those gas stations as long as we did? What if I hadn't noticed the dashboard? What if Exit 132 hadn't been exactly where it was? What if Cynthia hadn't experienced the same thing in her car two summers ago? What if I hadn't gone to Tech at all and this occurred somewhere more dangerous? But everything happened exactly the way it needed to happen...without exception. And it continues to amaze me. Now, while I normally try to be a very open-minded person, respecting the good aspects of most belief systems, I think this one has finally shut me down to atheism. Coincidence holds only so much water, and this story is filled with leaks. God was present this weekend.
Final words of weirdness:
-My dad had almost the exact same experience with a car dying and being able to coast into a gas station in the nick of time.
-This was the second time in one week that someone had trouble getting to Tech because of a malfunctioning alternator.
-Because my car was repaired on time, I made it back for my first class of the week--crisis intervention. Heh heh.
( 11:47 PM ) Meghan
Sunday, January 26, 2003
I'm freaking exhausted and a little bit stiff.
But a whole lot warmer.
( 11:18 PM ) Meghan
Thursday, January 23, 2003
It's been a really long time. As I hurried toward the house when I got home this evening (trying to avoid being smothered in the thick, cold air), I stopped for a moment. It had just begun to flurry, so I stood in the porchlight to look at the snowflakes that had caught on my gloves. I used to be able to do it--to see each individual point and discern the unique geometric patterns. Maybe it was just the poor reflection in my lenses, or the flakes were clumped too tightly. But I couldn't see. And it made me so sad...they're one of the most beautiful things I have ever looked over. That may now be forever hidden from my young, but aging eyes.
Once I was able to see. And I made sure that I took a good, long look. So at least I will always have the memory of that personal, empirical, magical evidence.
( 11:54 PM ) Meghan
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Some abortion advocates argue that the government should just stay out of it...that the state has no business in the personal affairs of a woman in such a difficult position.
Why?
Because they say that one body should never impose its choices on another.
(Another entry where Meghan is essentially talking to herself.)
I think it's time to get back into healthy-living mode. Now let's be honest here...what should I set up for myself that a) has worked before, and b) needs to affect change?
1) I used to drink water because it was free and I was bored (i.e., trying not to do homework or entertaining myself while the children watched TV). It had happy unintended consequences. Lately, I've been eating chocolate when bored since it intercepts me on the way to the kitchen. As I'm running out of chocolate but still need enough for a substantial emergency stash, I think I'm going to try weaning myself back onto the water.
2) I always feel better about myself physically and mentally when I play basketball. No other exercise has satiated me the way basketball does. Probably because there's a sense of victory with the game--a measurable way to know that I'm making progress. Although swimming is also enjoyable, ("Ooh, look I made it to the other end of the pool again!") it doesn't make feel like I'm working as hard. Henceforth, I will aim for getting off my ass twice a week to walk the half-mile to the neighborhood hoop.
3) My playlist is due for another trimming...back down to my meager supply of girl-power songs and at least a few of the songs that illustrate how falling in love/relationships suck and aren't worth it. Example--
Savage Garden - Truly, Madly, Deeply: Needs to be cut like George Clooney at "The Thin Red Line" audition.
Bon Jovi - It's My Life: If making multiple copies of it would be practical, it would happen.
4) My most depressing challenge...fewer long-distance phone calls are in order, or I won't be able to afford actually seeing you all in person. Thank goodness for AIM and e-mail. That's how you'll be hearing from me until I'm able to recover my lost phone card with 300 minutes on it. D'oh.
5) No more ordering dessert at restaurants. All the good ones are at least $5, and while tasty, are as gratuitous as it comes.
6) Buying alcohol? Not happening.
7) Actually reading my textbooks. A new and intimidating concept! Essential to keep in mind that the lives of others now depend on what I learn.
8) What I am most looking forward to is the creative project for my "Spirituality in Social Work" class. I've decided to paint, which would be glorious, since I haven't been able to indulge in the acrylics since senior year in high school. One of the most powerful feelings I've ever had is being so lost in the details that I didn't notice or care about the passage of time. I'm tempted to clean up one of my old paintings, but I think a fresh canvas is in order for this fresh start.
9) It remains my New Year's resolution to start being on time. While the effort hasn't been as effective as I'd prefer, at least I've been less late recently. You know such behavior really needs to change when you're exactly on time and consider yourself early.
10) More Brendan Fraser movies. Couldn't hurt.
Well, this seems to be a fairly comprehensive and holistic plan for self-improvement. I am pleased.
So...
Hmmm...
Oh, right. I guess I should pry myself from the keyboard and actually do something. Let's start out slow. Break out "The Mummy" on DVD.
( 3:38 PM ) Meghan
Saturday, January 18, 2003
I have got to stop having these dreams...they're not helping things any. The fact that they usually disappoint in the end should be sign enough for me to take the bloody hint.
( 12:47 PM ) Meghan
Friday, January 17, 2003
I began my first real needs assessment today. And nearly fell apart when the session ended. You would think I might have had some clue that working with people would be emotionally challenging. But until you're face-to-face with the sickness, the sadness, sometimes you forget how much you really have to give in this job.
( 12:34 AM ) Meghan
Monday, January 13, 2003
"There is a fine old story about a student who came to a wise old rabbi and said, 'Rabbi, in the olden days, there were men who saw the face of God. Why don’t we anymore?'
The rabbi replied: 'Because nowadays no one can stoop so low.'"
I couldn't have ended my winter sabbatical with a better celebration. My birthday began by saying, "Bite me" to suicide education and ended warm and loved back in bed (cautiously ignoring many empty liquor bottles, chopstick wrappers, and frosting smudges that could surely wait until later). For all of you who made the nondescript day of 23 so memorable by calling/writing/showing up/bearing gifts/offering to grope me, I love you. You make me feel so young.
Following the twenty-somethings' insanity, I went out to dinner with my parents and brother, which was excellent. Especially being able to do a beer sampling with my dad, comparing and contrasting the robustness and finishing factors among other things. It's a warm and new feeling being able to engage in adult activities with my parents--I like it. And I was succeeding at the adult factor until I decided to chug the last two pilsners. Whoops. Although I think it put my family in an odd, combined state of both horror and admiration. Awesome.
Apart from bragging about drinking and sleeping, I'm inclined again to reflect on the mysteriousness of the Greater Power. Almost a year ago, I asked and prayed to get into the accelerated program at VCU. It's absolutely what I should have had. I'd have trudged through one last year of social work education, and this May would finally have been shipped off into the realm of a "real" job. And I didn't get it. I asked myself, "Why not?" so many times. I had the GPA, the requisite experience, the recommendations...and I'd just worked so hard. And God saw all those things and gave me not what I asked for, but what I wanted--an incredible summer with my friends, the chance to learn a few more things about kids, an extra practicum to make me a stronger social worker, and a program in which I'd have some time to breathe.
Two days ago, I asked for a renewal of my faith...I guess, well, some bells and whistles to let me know that God really is still around. Excitement, motivation, some kind of push in the spiritual direction. And I got far more than what I asked for--God sent me angels, in my family and friends, rescuers and reminders. So why does He answer some prayers and not others? I can only conclude that God just wants us to ask. Because in the directions of our lives, like with birthdays, sometimes the planners don't want to ruin tomorrow's surprises.
Some may scoff and shout, "Cheeseball, coincidence, squishy, puppy nonsense!" Well, sorry to disappoint you. I was there--I saw the whole thing :) However, I take this moment to announce that the story isn't quite done. This is not the happy, castle ending. Oh, I've definitely got some growing to do in the supernatural sphere. But that will always be the case, whether the signs are in a movie, a dream, or Jesus Himself, laying out the blueprints in my living room.
I'm guessing the formers are more likely. Though in the event of the latter, I wait, ready and prepared. There's a few extra slices of cake in the fridge.
( 2:46 AM ) Meghan
Friday, January 10, 2003
Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it okay.
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day.
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release,
Memory seeps from my veins.
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight.
In the arms of the angel, fly away from here.
From this dark cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear.
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie.
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here.
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn,
There's vultures and thieves at your back.
And the storm keeps on twisting; you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack.
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time.
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness,
Oh this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees.
In the arms of the angel, fly away from here.
From this dark cold hotel room and the endlessness that you fear.
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie.
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here.
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here.
--Sarah McLaughlin, Angel ( 2:40 AM ) Meghan
Thursday, January 09, 2003
I am getting too old. Tomorrow is my birthday and where might I spend it? At a conference on suicidal ideation. Because of which I'm glad that I spent too much money at the liquor store this evening.
The past couple of months or so, I have felt a lacking. It's not a boyfriend, a puppy, or anything tangible that I regularly whine about. It's in my spiritual life, but that is as far as I can pinpoint it. As of late, I've barely felt any urge to talk to God, to do any spiritual reflection inside of myself. It's not that I don't want to--it's a depression in motivation that I need to rise above, one so deep that I've never before felt its magnitude.
It might have something to do with what I've learned this semester...seeing all the idiotic crap the Catholic Church has done recently regarding sexual abuse and homosexual ordination has enraged me to a point of exhaustion. While I realize intellectually that I am not hopeless or powerless against these injustices, I am helpless without employing the spiritual part of myself. I need my brain and heart to solve problems, but they are ultimately nothing more than tools of my soul. And that's where the shadows have lain.
So many factors could be involved...dwindling faith, loss of direction, questioning my own moral fiber, the inability to see the big picture for the last several months. It's not for a lack of friends or good experiences for which I am quite thankful. Which makes me sure that this is due to something far bigger than I have ever experienced.
All I really want is to be excited about God again. I wonder if it's too late to get that on my birthday list.
( 6:55 PM ) Meghan
Sometimes the snow comes down in June.
Sometimes the sun goes 'round the moon.
Just when I thought our chance had passed,
You went and saved the best for last.
--Vanessa Williams, Save the Best for Last ( 2:48 AM ) Meghan
Monday, January 06, 2003
I have done it. I have made the abysmal leap and acquired a LiveJournal account (Motto: "This page cannot be displayed."). Now, those of you who know me well are aware that I hate LiveJournal and would rather hang myself with my own tongue than subscribe. So what's the deal? Have I indeed slithered on my #FFFF00 belly into the Dark Side?
The answer, my friends, is no. There are three reasons that I dare to associate with this format and the first is that I am, admittedly, a gossip whore. In order to view the "friends-only" entries of my wonderful compadres, I had to give in and request the basic package deal. The second reason is that I also receive the added benefit of being able to comment to those other users who disabled anonymous posting, which is highly discriminatory, not to mention chicken-shit.
"Ooh, if they're an anonymous poster, it means they'll never see my quick-witted responses. If they don't use LiveJournal, they must not read it. I'll bet they don't even know how to use a computer."
Or the ever popular...
"Ooh, if they're an anonymous poster, they might not think like me and I prefer to stay in the Borg-like company of other users."
Wake up, people. Disabled anonymous posting should not be implemented unless you are actually being stalked. And if it's you, you're probably not.
More than selective posting, I can't stand the culture that LiveJournal creates--the cliquish attitude, the constant bickering, the mind-numbing, gut-heaving, ass-tastic level of detail. For example:
"Like, I so can't wait for tonight! I'm not sure if I'm hanging out with UMASTURB8 or LUVWEEWEE and her friends. We might go dancing or ice skating, or maybe even to Pancake Hut because I'm totally in the mood for a Waffle Wallbanger with original strawberry syrup and a side of poached...no, make that over-easy eggs. But I just can't decide! What do you guys think? Leave me comments!!! But whatever we do, I've just got to jet and pluck these four nasty eyebrow hairs if I want a perfect night out!"
I exaggerate of course. Most of the time, the grammar and spelling aren't this good. While my nearest and dearest are often exempt from these misbehaviors, you, the guilty, know who you are.
The final, and too-long-delayed reason for this decision is that I want a larger forum for my ideas. I may as well take advantage of the LiveJournal structure because my intellectual rants will reach others faster and generate more feedback, hopefully aiding others in at least considering the conservative social worker's opinions on the issues. All too often in short supply.
So that's the story, everyone. Yes, I am a LiveJournal user, but will continue to mock it openly onscreen. All that you see on The 42nd Kingdom will be posted in The Dungeon, and the "friends-only" posts will be rare, if at all. And thus, the saga begins and I leap in unafraid. For fear is the path to the dark side.
*For those of you offended by the above comments, I apologize, except not really, and can suggest only that you write differently or find a new hobby.
**While it is not to say that all Bloggers are dramatically set apart from the Livejournal atmosphere, The Resistance remains the few, the proud, the less inane.
( 8:00 PM ) Meghan
Helpless and hungry,
Lowly, afraid,
Wrapped in the chill of midwinter.
Comes now among us,
Born into poverty's embrace--
New life for the world.
Who is this who lives with the lowly,
Sharing their sorrows, knowing their hunger?
This is Christ, revealed to the world in the eyes of a child.
A child of the poor.
Merry Epiphany, everyone. May those of every kingdom feel the power.
( 1:07 AM ) Meghan
It snowed all day today. The ground is still covered in white, the streets streaked with evidence that our neighbors were determined to go about their lazy Sunday business. Aging Christmas lights are still glowing their way through the frost, asking if a white January 5th would be okay instead. And here I sit, thinking back to the same Sunday night last year...
...when once again snow fell out of nowhere, keeping me from my very first professional duties. It let me be a child for another day, prompting snowball fights, and requesting silhouettes of clumsy angels on the hills. And to see the falling flakes in the bath of the street lamps against the twilit sky was...simply and perfectly beautiful.
It's one year later. The snow is still falling. My professional practice is still dependent on the roads, but now I have a few $40,000 letters and a few months of wisdom to help me plow through. My roommates and I are still watching the skies, although there's a bit more of a lapse as to when each of us feels the wind.
And my dears, we're still goodbyin'.
But as long as you love me so,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. ( 12:25 AM ) Meghan
Friday, January 03, 2003
And now, from Her Majesty's screen to yours, we bring one more year to a close. Utilizing the ever-valued strengths perspective (with a dash of eccentricity), we present the Lesser-Known Best of 2002!
Best Name For A Snowman: “Snowsama Bin Laden.” This was the result of final-semester college craziness, and probably a few too many iceballs pelted to the head. But, fitting to the namesake, he eventually endured a slow, painful melt and ended up tracked along I-81 by way of my tire treads. Not dead--but properly vaporized.
Best Restaurant Experience: The Joshua Wilton House in Harrisonburg, VA. Apple-cheddar biscuits and crab salad, followed by lamb, gnocchi, and combination sauteed vegetables, finishing off with a fruit torte, topped with ginger ice cream. All perfect. Prompt service and spritely, "Midsummer's"-esque atmosphere. Two forks way up!
Best Irony: The Our Lady of Peace Act was a bill introduced to Congress, proposing a national registry for all people with mental illness as a tool to reduce the number of illegal firearm purchases. Bad idea, since it could discourage the ill from treatment and is a serious invasion of privacy. Sponsored by none other than one Representative McCarthy (D-NY).
Best Starbucks Coffee Flavor: Peppermint Mocha. Much like a liquid Peppermint Patty with a kick, and enough to keep me awake and alive on my first Beltway extravaganza.
Best New Word: "Fagmantic" adj. Describes an interaction between a gay male and his female friend that would otherwise be classified as "romantic," were both partners on the same orientation track. Warm and fuzzy, with a touch of comedic hopelessness.
Best Out-of-State Long-Distance Deal: 10-10-457. Bitchin' savings, I'm telling you.
Best Winery: Chateau Morrisette. Tours given with eloquence and class serve only to accentuate the unique palatal pleasures of their various blends. All other wineries? Hmm...need more dog.
Best Sleeper Flick: John Q. A father, victimized by employment and insurance systems, takes a hospital hostage until administrators meet his demand to give his dying son a fair chance at a heart transplant. We here at the Kingdom propose a change of the tagline to read, "Social workers eat this shit up, one frame at a time."
Best Evidence That 11 September 2001 Has Not Entirely Ravaged The Airlines of Their Magic: On a flight from Atlanta to Dulles back in June, our pilot commenced take-off proceedings with a tune on his harmonica on the P.A. system. He was pretty good too. Props to AirTran.
Best New Year’s Resolution: I resolve to quit being late. Heh heh...and the date of this 2002 lookback is?
