From excellent to yicky in less than a week!

I haven't talked about the election returns yet, have I? Suffice to say that overall I'm extremely pleased.

Some specifics:
1) No more Liddy Dole. My mom and my friend Michele both called me* when that race was called. Not only did I (figuratively) wish to spit on the woman who took over the seat of another loathesome guy, but I was also very proud to vote for Kay Hagan. She has some sound ideas about sustainable ag and local foods, and I'll always love her for her support of raw milk. Have you tasted that goodness yet? It's a gorgeous sensation.
2) Obama. I doubt I have to say much about this to any of you, but I'm even more impressed that he's planning to recind many of the immoral policies Bush implemented. I volunteered on election day in a county that eventually went for McCain. I didn't do very much at all, but I was glad I took the day off.
3) Anti-choice initiatives failed. Thank goodness.
4) Can you say NC is blue? Yes! Me too!
5) Bad news: Proposition 8 in California passed, as did a number of other anti-gay initiatives. Gotta love people taking away civil rights, ya know?

I spent the night at my friend Ian's place, after going to the NC Dems victory celebration downtown. The energy there (as well as some champagne) gave me a fantastic buzz, and there were celebrations in the streets. So wonderful. Walking downtown the next morning I was so grateful to see people still beaming and making small talk in the street with strangers about how happy they were.

The next day I met with the group of teens I work with, and they were excited as well. They did share some unfortunate experiences documenting the racial tension that still exists even now. I'd expected as much, sadly, so I had prepared a "teachable moment" plan and showed them The Children's March. I was so proud to hear them talk about ways they have already and could continue to stand up to bigotry as it happens today.

So yeah, election week rocked.

But.

There always has to be a but, doesn't there?

Yesterday started out well. I was super productive and did dishes, cooked, and gardened. I'm landscaping most of the front yard, and I realized at Maria's birthday party the night before that I really had to get the irises in that Jamie and the s.o. gave me back over labor day weekend.

While I was doing this, though, I noticed an oddity on the street. Someone had pulled up in front of the house next door for a bit, and then turned around and parked again, this time directly across the street from me. I was a bit oblivious at first, though I did wonder briefly what this person was doing. Were they lost?

Nah. It was a young guy who decided to jerk off to my yardwork. Once I figured that out, I walked out in the street towards him a bit, but really more towards the back of the car. To get the plate number, see? And I did. I got the entire plate number, even before he peeled out. The police were very nice, and I felt strong, proud, and confident. I was happily surprised that my reaction was so matter-of-fact and oriented towards justice. I didn't show him any response beyond first being puzzled and then calmly (not even forced calm...I was zenned out) observing and memorizing as much info about the situation as I could. I emailed two neighborhood listservs with the details as well, and many residents cheered me.

Unfortunately, that pride and calm dissipated as the night wore on, taking me to a place of fear and worry. What if he retaliated? What if he broke in or vandalized my car? My god, he knows where I live, after all. What if Bubba's barking (Loud! Mean-sounding!) compelled this asswipe (and the friends I imagined would accompany him) to shoot Bubba?

I read By the Shores of Silver Lake last night, and didn't contain my tears when Jack died in his sleep.

I'm going to the police department in the morning to check on their progress. I've contacted local sexual violence crisis centers for advice and support. I can't imagine the horror that a more serious act of sexual violence would be like. I'm glad I haven't had to. This was gross enough.

Lotta tags for this post, hm?

*Michele actually texted me, and I then called her.