being sentimental sigh :-)

I confess, I had a very particular child in mind last night while colleagues spoke of giving kids the stink eye, detailing various and myriad reasons why none should ever be allowed out in public, and declaiming against pregnancy in the first place. I admit, it was too close to home for me to join in the banter, but I appreciated it nonetheless. (Although apparently not as much as our waiter, who overheard one of the birthday girls suggesting that it was just such talk that prevented me from hanging out with them more often: “You should hear what it sounds like from here.”)
I laughed hard throughout the evening. 🙂 It was good to see and be with the assorted “criminals” and “suspects” from the Communication Department, even if my energy was too low to contribute much beyond (my usual?!) rather staid facts and observations.
“Why would you travel to such a hostile region?” Art asked, and others joined in with some comments about my common sense. I did, in fact, actually draw up and sign a will (how’s that for placing someone’s age?) and the Legal Secretary (whom I’ve known for several years) did tease about wondering whether or not I was “really in my right mind” or not. 🙂
“It’s not hostile inside Iran,” I replied, to which there was a general murmur of acknowledgment. “Just the surrounding region,” Art clarified.
When I got in last night, Neil said, “It’s not looking good.” Huh? He’s been watching Fox. The Bush administration is blaming Iran for the violence among Israel-Gaza-Lebanon-Hezbollah. Damn. When I woke up this morning I realized that the Foreign Ministry in Iran probably considers my “late” application so suspicious because it’s probably precisely a time when the US might try to slip agitators and spies into the country. I remember talking with Arturo, who said if he was the paranoid type, my general openness about things would make him more suspicious of me, rather than less. Sigh.
I will be disappointed if I can’t go. I became quite excited about the adventure (experience, opportunity) as a reward for completing comps and myriad other similarly important life tasks in the past two months. I’ll be more disappointed, however, if the US continues down the path of war. What about the road less traveled? As I listened to the teasing among the partygoers last night I marveled at the practiced ease of ironic distance. Perhaps it is simply my own bias and projection, but I don’t believe people enter the field of communication without some desire to make things better. It’s the balance between being so keenly aware of life’s absurdity: seemingly trapped (?) within the (dialectical) power of history and yet soaking up every possible pleasure, creating our own bubbles of joy founded in/upon ‘another way.’
This morning I woke up from indeterminate dreams yet a solid idea about the power of the moment challenging the crisis of history. It occurs to me that my colleagues figured this out a long time ago. I am still playing catch-up.

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