Women Writing History: A Pandemic Journal

Preface: October 26, 2020
Hello and welcome to my 90-day pandemic journal! As a history student and lifelong journal -keeper, I knew that I had to get on board with this project. At the time that I started keeping a journal with the intention of submitting it to the National Women’s History Museum, I was twenty years old, working on my capstone project for my history major, and quarantining at home with my parents, three siblings, and an assortment of pets. I am now twenty-one and in my last semester of undergrad. For me, the future is just as uncertain as it was seven months ago, although I’d like to think that I’ve grown more at ease with uncertainty. I think 90 days was the perfect stopping point for this project because the pandemic was less of a shock to the system by late May, and in New York, restrictions were beginning to let up. The scope of my particular journal consists mainly of the days spent at home, and the ways in which I learned to cope with the larger world and the challenges of online learning. I put this away for several months before returning to edit and reread what I wrote. It has been fascinating to see what kind of person I was seven months ago, and how much I’ve changed, despite my anxieties about this long year of stagnation!
For context, I live in New York’s Mid-Hudson Valley and attend the State University of New York at New Paltz. My two younger sisters also attend SUNY schools, my brother is in high school, and my mom teaches first grade. We had to buy two new laptops and a new WiFi router to keep up with the traffic of so much online school! My family is fortunate enough to have remained financially stable throughout the pandemic because my parents were able to keep working safely. We have everything we need, and our biggest challenges have been with the mental and emotional aspects of the pandemic, learning how to deal with the uncertainty and separation from loved ones. It also helps that we get along with each other well!
I started counting from the day that my university, my brother’s school and my mother’s elementary school all shut down for the foreseeable future, which was Friday, March 13th. 90 days proved to be the perfect length, because by late May and early June, racial justice became a more prescient issue to me than the pandemic, and I was beginning to ease back into an altered social life.
March 13, 2020: Day 1
What a damn day. What a damn two days.
I am officially on spring break until March 30th, at which point remote classes begin. Today we discussed going ahead in both my medieval and World War II history classes. We’re going to video-conference every Friday in World War II to discuss the readings. Our professor showed us how to do it on Blackboard in class today. He also told us to journal everything that happens, for primary sources. He said we were living in history, and that it felt similar to going to school after 9-11.
This week they installed Purell pumps at every doorway and computer station. On the lecture center printer, they put a roll of paper towels, and a can of Lysol, directing us to wipe down the keyboards and mouses after every use. Because I didn’t want to waste my printing balance (it only rolls over between fall-spring semesters, not spring-fall), I attempted to print out as much as I could before leaving campus. I only used $6 worth, but that’s enough of a dent in my allotted printing balance to satisfy me. In one semester, I usually use $20-30.
Ulster County public schools are closed for the next 14 days. There are five cases of COVID-19 in Ulster County. Jack’s school was closed today because allegedly, a dad with kids in the school district came down with coronavirus. Mom’s students had a pre-existing half day, but at 2PM the county executive, Pat Ryan, got on a live-streamed press conference and declared that schools were closing. Local businesses, like Marshall & Sterling Insurance, are collaborating with schools and daycare centers to hold food drives and supply families who depend on the breakfast/lunch programs with food.
At 3:30 Trump went into the Rose Garden and declared a national state of emergency. He is allegedly working with medical leaders and CEOs to speed up testing and test kit production. It was mostly him patting himself on the back. He is allocating $50 billion to emergency funding, but not suspending bills or mortgage payments like Italy did. Cuomo did that for New York. He’s trying to look good so that he can get a cabinet position under Biden and run for president himself in 2024. All the SUNY kids, particularly athletes, tech and performance majors, and seniors, hate him right about now. We are all lingering in the socialist embrace of Grandpa Bernard, who will not drop out so long as there are primaries left to win.
This virus, if it does anything good, could tip the scales in Bernie’s favor. The kinds of problems we’re seeing now are policy issues that Bernie has pushed for decades now. It will be interesting to see what happens.
Last night we went to Target to look for stuff to help cheer Mom up and to survive “virus vacation.” Anna bought two gallon jugs of ice cream and UNO cards. The whole toilet paper aisle was cleaned out, and they had flyers up saying one per customer.
My three siblings are already bored. Bored! I just don’t know where or how to start on my work, or if I can afford to take a break. The elaborate homework schedule I had planned for the rest of the semester got shot to hell.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m staying calm. I have to keep going as normally as possible. I think I’ll start by reading the short book assigned for World War II.
More from life as a SUNY system refugee tomorrow,
Teresa.
March 14, 2020: Day 2
“Virus Vacation Day 2!” It’s just about 1pm now. I am eating a sandwich and doing some laundry. Listening to Radio Woodstock, 100.1. Will propose some fresh air to my family momentarily, though not sure the extent to which we’re allowed to be out in public. Or what they feel comfortable with. Dad, Mom, and Anna left for Potsdam at 8am to pack up her dorm and hopefully find toilet paper along the way.
Mom and Dad went to Hannaford last night. Everything was gone, not just toilet paper. Pasta. Regular boxed mac and cheese- all they had was “white bean macaroni,” and we don’t even buy boxed mac and cheese normally. They’re rationing bread, coffee, and peanut butter. 4 rolls of toilet paper per customer. I’m scared about the elderly not having enough, or people not being able to get formula for their babies. Stories like that are coming out on Facebook. And the rate at which my brain is normalizing the life ahead is strange. This is not normal.
To top it off, yesterday I got a form from the DMV in the mail saying that I need to pay $64.50 to renew my license because I’m turning 21. It feels weird that bureaucracy continues while the rest of the world is on fire. Fran and I made bracelets and went on a long ride. We walked across an old covered bridge in Rifton. People were all over the rail trails- not very quarantined at all.
I already finished the book I was reading for my World War II class. Now I am reading Mildred Pierce.
A New York woman died today, but she was 82. Still. That’s four years older than my grandparents.
We have such weird food in our house. A ham, but no vegetables. No salad. Five boxes of graham crackers. Cookies. Ice cream.
At least one of the articles I needed for my capstone paper came in through Interlibrary Loan last night. They’re tried and true at the library.
So we’ll see what happens. Day by day. Trump has been tested for the virus and is awaiting the results.
Teresa.
P.S. The Potsdam crew came in with 6 more rolls of TP :) March 15, 2020: Day 3
“Virus Day 3.”
As I just uncapped my pen, got a New York Times alert that no mass gatherings of 50 people or more should be held for the next 8 WEEKS, the CDC said. That means that public schools should be out for that long. That’s the semester. People are out here going to bars and wineries because they lack basic compassion for others, because St. Patrick’s Day and birthdays are more important than public health.
There’s a Dem debate on right now, but I have no patience for that. Bernie is playing it smart, pulling out the FDR rhetoric. He had a “Fireside Chat” last night, a Twitter livestream. Using a popular forum to reach his audience during a time of national crisis, true to form. This could be the thing that tips it in his favor, once people see all the holes in the system. If anything comes from this, it should be that.
Today I read a lot, took a shower, played with Pete in the backyard and scooped his poop, snacked, read some more, walked with Mom, Fran and Jack on the reservoir rail trail, took a big nap, woke up just in time for dinner, and played cards with the siblings. It almost feels like vacation, but I don’t want to fall into that trap. I have work to do- lots of it. I’m ahead on my World War II stuff, so that’s good.
Walking on the rail trail made me nervous that it was the wrong thing to do, that I was endangering others by being out in public. The parking lot was so packed, but people dispersed themselves. It was fine. I’m waiting for them to ban rail trails. Then what’ll I do? I don’t want to be that person, but I also don’t want to go insane.
The uncertainty is starting to gnaw at me. That’s why I need to make an adapted schedule. A wartime schedule. People are already making World War II comparisons, but it really feels like we’re living under the Blitz. Food is scarce. Each day is precarious. I don’t think this country has lived under such mass uncertainty in a long time, against an invisible enemy. I think it feels like the Blitz because we have to stay inside. What a time. Day by day.
Dad was able to get more regular food and vegetables today. Salad tasted delicious at dinnertime. We have all processed snacks, because that’s all that was there. We had lasagna noodles, but no sauce. Now we have sauce. The food instability makes me anxious for old people.
My grandparents are doing fine. Mom and I have decided that for exercise we’re going to walk to their house- they live about a mile and a half away.
People are being so stupid. I don’t know. Obama says that any act of prevention will look silly in the long run- that means it was effective. In Italy they had 10,000 people break quarantine- that’s why it’s so bad there. Almost 2,000 people died. If people do that here, we’ll have the same results- or worse. I pray that people are smart and safe.
Teresa.
March 16, 2020: Day 4
5:23 AM.
I am up because I had a series of dreams, which I only have if I’ve been reading before bed. Last night I was reading Carl Sagan and a New Agey book about compassion. At times they were at odds with one another, but it was kind of cool.
I dreamed that I was running, running on the rail trail through New Paltz, by myself, feeling exhilarated and strong. I’ve been thinking about starting to run for the past couple of weeks now. It will take concentrated effort, but all I have is time now. What I liked was the sense of strength and freedom, being able to move myself wherever I wanted to go. I was able to get out from under myself and go.
That’s all I got. Just had to process. More virus news later.
Teresa. 6:29 PM.
A good day, but parents are tense and anxious. Fran’s job at the movie theater got shut down indefinitely. NYS is raising restrictions on restaurants, bars, and gyms. Andy Cuomo is trying to make NY a national leader in combating coronavirus, though I wonder if it’s NY he cares about or his political reputation. Today the CDC announced that it highly advises against gatherings of 50 people until the end of May. Both Mom’s school and Jack’s school announced that they are having spring break now in order to meet the new conditions of the state emergency law, where you can go over your snow days if there’s a state emergency. They’re planning to do this because they know that they’re in for the long haul, and Jack’s school is going online on March 25th. Mom’s school has yet to make a decision.
Her district is on total lockdown- this means that she and Dad have to have the janitors let them in at 6 AM tomorrow in order to rescue the class turtle. The janitors will be there from 6 AM- 2 PM.
New Paltz announced that students will only be refunded for room and board, not tuition. That’s fair, I guess.
My hands are chapped from all the hot water. I had to put lotion on them.
God, this is so cryptic. I’m just trying to record things as they are.
I’m annoyed at people my age, among others, who think that this thing is out to
inconvenience them personally. We are all scared and all confused. Only looking out for your own personal interests is deadly. I am trying to minimize going out as much as I can. I have only gone to my dog-walking job, the rail trail, and Target today to get new underwear. We are only at the head of this thing, which is scary and uncertain. We might be facing a “shelter-at-home” next week, like 6 counties in California declared today. That means nobody goes in, and nobody goes out, except for groceries, the pharmacy, and the hospital.
We just passed South Korea in the number of fatalities, Dad said.
Here at home, we had a delicious dinner (with green vegetables) and went for an after- dinner walk. Now I’m sleepy. Mom bleached the shower and Fran dyed the ends of her hair purple. I won Monopoly for the first time ever, and Anna set a household record for debt: $3,445. I did my dog-walking job again today. Bubba and I saw kids playing outside, and old people with walkers. People like to go outside, I think, because we know that our days are numbered. We’re all waiting for the big plastic “Simpsons” dome to come down on us. We saw a little boy in a battery-operated Jeep who waved at us like the mayor from across the street, and a family picking up lunch at the elementary school.
That’s about all, I think. I am enjoying living one day at a time. We clean and eat and walk and read. It almost feels like vacation, though I know that I have work to do.
Teresa.
March 17, 2020: Day 5
Have been up since 6. Parents did turtle rescue this morning. I helped fill up the relocated tank. Mom was anxious about keeping the turtle warm on our screened-in porch, but soon enough steam billowed off the water from under the heat lamp.
Pat Ryan just gave a live update. Coronavirus is now in Saugerties (the neighboring town where my mother works). Not in the school district, but it’s there. All restaurants are converting to takeout and curbside delivery to stay afloat.
Today is a cold, rainy day. No dog-walking. I finished 2 books this morning and have not yet changed out of my PJs. We had Lucky Charms and 2 pots of coffee at breakfast.
8:44 PM
So much changes so fast. NYC declared a shelter-in-place, effective on Thursday, where nobody is allowed to leave except to go to the grocery store and the pharmacy. Andy C said that we wouldn’t do this, but de Blasio went ahead while the Cuomo brothers fought about who was Mom’s favorite on the evening news. WE LIVE IN HELL. This is not the time to be funny, Andrew! Dad says a shelter-in-place is headed our way within the next week. In the meantime, however, I just read that Andy waived all state park fees to keep people sane. It’s gonna be 70 degrees on Friday, so I want to see if the twins will go to Minnewaska with me before the Simpsons dome comes down on us. Nothing is certain.
My school issued a statement today saying that no one is allowed back on campus after break, when before they’d left it ambiguous and said people could come back if need be. Now you have to apply to come back.
I cleaned out my closet today. The twins are staying at a friend’s house. I changed the sheets, painted my nails, moisturized my face, and shaved my legs. A lady parked in our driveway from 3-4 PM to talk to an old man who was walking his dog. She waved at Dad as he was trying to come in from work- we had never seen her before and did not know who she was!
Pete and I have played “soccer”outside two days in a row. He just loves to fetch, but only if you kick the ball to him. It wears him out easily.
Prof. Evans gave us our first online assignment today: to write haikus about 2020. We’ve had a particularly rough semester, because we missed a week in February when the town water supply was contaminated and all students had to be evacuated. He wanted to give us an outlet for our humor and frustrations, and he’s going to collect them in a document. I’m going to practice a few here:
Have to stop scrolling
Twitter is not the real world
Bad new does no good
Had elaborate plans
The virus had other plans Nothing is given
March 18, 2020: Day 6
Virus in the air
At least the flowers emerge Spring stops for no one!
Nothing is certain
My spring break schedule, gone I live day by day.
Today we walked to Grandma’s house. I want to get stronger, better, healthier throughout all this.
But I’m starting to get scared, more anxious about the future. I have convinced myself that I have a handle on the right now, but I’m just waiting for the next change to come.
They shut down all the playgrounds in our town. All the parking meters in Saugerties have white garbage bags on them. People are playing outside and eating more takeout than ever, so that’s good. The restaurants won’t suffer as much. The economy’s in free fall. I’m scared about what’s going to become of us after this. What world will be left behind. This is not the end times, but it sure feels like it.
The girls have spent the last 2 nights at a friend’s house. They don’t go out during the day, but I worry about the shelter-in-place coming down while they’re away. I’m too entrenched on social media. I’m only happy when I’m doing other things, like being outside and reading and writing. I have a lot of creative ideas and hobbies and I know how to take care of myself, but I feel like I need to hear from a higher authority. Who, I don’t know. I’m finding that I really do feel safest in the classroom, and I thrive in that environment, with professors and kids and ideas and thoughts. I think what I need most right now are my journal, my books, my music, and a hike. I should treat this like spring break. Technically, I am on spring break right now. Nothing is certain. This is a good thing. This should make me feel like life is fluid, and ever-malleable. I can’t get past this future anxiety. I’m just going to keep my head down and try to sort through this in the only ways I know how.
Maybe more introspection tomorrow morning. Being a reliable primary source is dull bullshit. This was good, though. I’m gonna moisturize my face and read for now.
March 19, 2020: Day 7
12: 20 PM
Good news: the girls are home. Bad news: Mom has to go back into work on April 2nd. The current plan is for K-2 teachers to go in every other letter day and collaborate on instruction, then go work on their own in their classrooms for the afternoon. Everything changes so fast.
Today is a rainy, cold day. This time last week was the last time I saw my friends. Some are graduating, and I’d like to see them again, if possible. We didn’t get a proper goodbye.
Mom and Jack bought fries and pizza bites for lunch at the store. And orange juice for Mom and Dad to have cocktails.
It’s very possible that this thing could be here until May. We don’t know what’s going to happen. We just don’t know.
Cuomo ordered that 75% of all workers be sent home. That’s up from the 50% that he said yesterday. Dad might go on a semi-paid leave: he’d work from 6-2 PM, Monday-Wednesday, then have off, but he’d be covering a jurisdiction triple the size of the one he has now.
I did my dog-walking job on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday this week and walked to Grandma’s yesterday. My knees are sore, but it feels good to be young and strong. There are a lot of messy things going on, but at least my body is healthy.
Last night I dreamt that Anna built and painted a silo on Grandma D’s front lawn. Yesterday I had to explain to Jack what a silo was.
Today I am cold. I’m wearing a sweater that I almost put away for winter yesterday, and two pairs of socks. Tomorrow it will be over 70 degrees. The weather keeps yo-yoing back and forth. For every day of sun we get a day of cold and rain.
I am taking this time to go through my Spotify library and revist songs I love. We are living in a haunting dream. I walk outside and it’s silent except for the birds. I stay calm and pay attention to the small details. It feels like Christmas vacation. We eat snacks, take naps, and play games.
This is how I stay sane. It looks like it’s lightening up outside, so maybe I’ll go out there with Pete. One moment at a time. Right now I feel like a nap. I’m tired of trying to work out the knots in the world on walks. I just need to be.
Bernie’s tanking in the primaries. It boggles the mind how Americans will be experiencing a literal plague, then turn out in droves to vote for somebody who doesn’t believe in Medicare for All. How does that make sense? People are too comfortable with stasis, in general. They want things to stay the same, and they don’t care if other people outside the periphery of their world have to suffer in order for them to feel comfortable. If they’re not in the bubble, not in the Facebook feed, they don’t exist. It’s digital tribalism. What you don’t see, you can pretend isn’t real. That’s how people can still believe that the coronavirus is a hoax. They don’t believe it until it enters their community. Reality is reality. It’s our perceptions of it that are different. The loss of collectivism and compassion are dangers to us. Hopefully being forced to live in isolation will make us realize this as a civilization.
The people who do help are treated as heroes and exemptions. Why don’t we encourage small, quiet acts of goodness from everybody every day, instead of lionizing the people who help during disasters on social media for all to see? I’m not saying that these people don’t deserve their credit, but general goodness should be an expectation, not a luxury. It’s a life preserver. You don’t have to go big or go home. Just do something, even if it’s small.
Another uneasy day in virusville. I feel like taking a nap now. More later. 8:25 PM
Did a little reading for my anthropology class, showered, cleaned my glasses, and did laundry. We had frozen pizza for dinner. The twins are staying another night at a friend’s house. We drove over to my aunt’s house to wish my cousin Carissa a happy 28th birthday from a safe distance. My aunt slid a jigsaw puzzle to me across her lawn, and Carissa threw leftover chocolate gold coins from St. Patrick’s day at us. We chatted briefly from across the lawn, about twenty feet apart.
Dad is on leave paid leave until Wednesday. His office is working in split shifts. I’m glad that he’ll be home more often- the less traveling outside the house we do, the better.
Today the college president announced that they are postponing graduation indefinitely. It’s not that surprising, but I’m glad for my friends that they didn’t cancel it outright. The uncertainty is what’s getting to people. Not knowing. I’m trying to make peace with it, to exist in it, to keep doing things right now that help to clear my thinking and keep me going. This helps, and so does walking. I’m still thinking about running, but have yet to get started...
It’s the first day of spring. Cold and rainy and wet again.
This shit is real. This isn’t a TikTok or a game. It’s easy for those among us who live in monochrome mansions to think so. I’m no longer laughing at Ellen being bored in her massive Beverly Hills complex. I have lost the capacity to find that funny.
People in the middle class are snapping at each other, too, on Facebook. Some of us can’t afford to stay home, being the essential workers who make the world go round, retail and pharmacists, hospital staff and sanitation workers. We see who really moves the world today, and it isn’t rich people or politicians. Teachers are not on vacation. I see how they worry about their kids. Unpaid emotional laborers like moms and caretakers of small kids and old people are under a great deal of strain right now. There is no reason for moms to turn on each other or set the bar really high for this virus hiatus, yet they are. On Facebook the moms I know are being really nasty and competitive about who’s suffering the most. I hate that, I hate that, I hate that, you know that I hate that. I hated the Olympics of suffering among middle class white women well before this ordeal. I don’t feel that this is undue political anger, or laying blame where it shouldn’t be. The biggest threat to public health is always capitalism, and the government, by association. Government failure to produce and distribute test kits, as well as the failure to supply every American with access to food, shelter, and adequate healthcare will kill people. It already has. That’s worth getting mad about, and it’s all connected. The middle class women fighting with each other on Facebook are the same ones stockpiling toilet paper and resources, and voting for politicians who vote for policies that kill people, because they’re too complacent to think beyond listening to their utterly mediocre menfolk.
Okay. That’s enough. Before I get too mad, I’m going to try my hand at some haikus, and then I’m going to do my night-time routine and put on a movie.
Celebrities claiming
Boredom in palaces makes
Me angry, Ellen.
Pizza bites for lunch
All the rules out the window Pizza for dinner!
Moms and caretakers Unpaid emotional workers I see you. Thank you.
Teresa.
March 20, 2020: Day 8
Today marks one week since the announcement that all schools in Ulster County were shut down for two weeks. Everything changes so quickly. It feels like a million years. I haven’t been able to bring myself to do schoolwork, but know that I have to. I’ve done a little bit for WWII and anthro. It’s time to dig in, I know, but I needed time to rest and lay low and make myself feel safe. I’m good at keeping to a routine. I’m up by 8:30, drink coffee, socialize in the living room, dress and brush my teeth and moisturize by 10. If I’m not walking Bubba, then I’m doing schoolwork until lunch. Then I take a break to do maintenance stuff. Now I am journaling. When I get done here, in an hour or so, I’ll probably hop on the yoga mat and follow along with a video.
Americans don’t really like healing anything. We blaze forth in our own madness. This will just warp us, like a wartime experience. More collective trauma. I don’t know. The world feels eerie today. We were promised sunshine and 75 degrees. It is cold and rainy. When will the sun come back?
Dad is officially home. He’s enjoying it. The TV has been on all day. The girls are not home from their friend’s house, but Dad is ready to enforce total lockdown once they get home.
I had horrible dreams last night. I had the most vivid school shooting dream of my scholastic career at this strange time in my schooling. I was born three weeks after Columbine, and news of school shootings has plagued my entire education. I was in eighth grade when the Sandy Hook shooting occurred, and I was in my second semester of freshman year in college when the Marjorie Stoneman Douglas shooting happened. It’s the one fear I have no reason to have right now, yet here it is in my dreams. So it was a rough night. I am still sleepy.
The sun is just starting to come out. The weather is supposed to get crazy over the next few days: chances of thunderstorms and snow. “And locusts at three o’clock,” Dad likes to joke. It does feel like the end times, so I’m making good use of my propensity for humor as emotional escapism.
My cat, Sebbie, got into a fight with a little white and gray bird from behind the window before. He was boxing with the glass. Now he’s perched on top of my leg.
The governor has ordered a complete shutdown: no martial law or curfew yet, but he wants all nonessential workers at home and travel limited.
A professor on campus has coronavirus, so they shut down dorms and buildings where this professor had contact with students to disinfect them.
I opened my window to get fresh air. No cars go by. There’s just the Thruway, the birds chirping, and the smell of spring.
My friends are chattier than in normal times. I’ve been texting back and forth with a few. I’m going to try harder to reach out.
I love Stevie Nicks with all of my heart- she is probably my favorite singer ever, tied with Joni Mitchell and Lady Gaga- and the 5 hour-long Stevie Nicks Spotify playlist I made when I was sixteen years old has been a great comfort to me this week.
Am trying to make it to a full hour of writing. Six minutes left.
I feel tired. I hope that I get a better sleep tonight.
Nobody knows what the future holds. Maybe a nighttime update. Teresa.
March 21, 2020: Day 9
9:50 AM
Today is Saturday. We are looking at 3-5 inches of snow for Monday, which is my sisters’ birthday. Dad is out getting groceries now. The sun came out at 6 PM yesterday. Pete and I played in the backyard for quite some time. We went out and played this morning, too. I had horrible dreams again last night. Just emotional conflict this time around. I think I better stop reading Flannery O’Connor before bed.
It is a bright, blue crisp day. We have ducks in the pond out back, and the female keeps escaping her pen and laying eggs. She wants to go swim in the stream down at the end of our yard, which is clear and full of rushing water. She wants her freedom from childbearing. I respect it.
I’m not sure what my day looks like right now. First I have to get up and get dressed, help Dad bring the groceries in. Then I’ll probably do a little reading. Take a ride in the car. Wipe down the mirrors in my room with glass cleaner. Do some work on my capstone research paper (I am taking a seminar course in history this semester, required of all history majors, the end product of which is a 20-25 page research paper). Actually, my medieval class could probably use some more work. We’ll have to see. I’ll have to see. I think I’m cracking up.
I think the Flannery O’Connor stories (paired with the state of the world) are giving me bad dreams. I don’t want to stare down the barrel of death at the end and have the horrific realization that I did it all wrong. All of her lead characters only see the light when they die, after being horrible creatures. I don’t want that to happen to me.
Just helped Dad put the groceries away. We have more potatoes, oranges, and bread than we know what to do with. I think he might be panic-buying. No cat litter, though.
Jack read a New York Times article that said that best case scenario, this thing peaks in early May and is eradicated by June. Yikes.
Mom called me her best quarantine friend yesterday. That’s an honorable distinction. I got distracted. It’s 12:06 now.
Kenny Rogers died (I thought he was already dead).
Dad is out visiting Grandma from a safe distance. I feel sorry that we can’t all go see her. Just eleven days ago I thought the coronavirus was a thing that would pass us by, that
would merely skim the surface of my life. What a fool! At least I’m learning to pay more attention, to observe but not internalize, and to cope. I’m very good at self-soothing and keeping a routine throughout this.
7;51 PM
The twins are home now. NYS is shutting down tomorrow- no businesses or anything open, nobody working. 793 people died in Italy today. There are over 8,000 cases in NY right now.
I’m in the doldrums today. I don’t really know what to do. Tomorrow I’ll make a more organized plan. It was cold today. I don’t know. I just feel weird. I went for a drive with Fran. We drove from home, up to Woodstock, and down to New Paltz to stare down at my school from the Shawangunks and sigh. We drove up into the mountains to look down from a scenic ledge. Then we headed home, and I played with Pete and did some chores.
I feel a lot of fear and confusion. I don’t know how to go forward. I need this time to collect myself.
I finished my Flannery O’Connor anthology today. The death stuff that she stirs up in her stories has been bothering me all week.
Who do I want to be throughout this? Who do I want to be when this country comes out of this? There’s no way to control what happens, I know. I can only control what I say and do.
Anna is practicing her flute in the next room. Fran is doing homework. Everybody’s off in their own corner.
Daily Haikus:
My anxiety grows Anxiety of its own now I learn how to breathe.
Small purple flowers Sunlight on a flowing brook All the difference.
Teresa.
March 22, 2020: Day 10
9:53 AM
Had awful dreams again! The dreams have decreased in severity but are still bad.
Right now I’m just trying to be patient, and tend to myself in the moment, see where this
thing goes. The waiting is the hardest part, to quote Tom Petty.
To be alone with yourself is very scary, and not for the weak.
March 23, 2020: Day 11
Yesterday I did homework, went on a walk around the neighborhood, and cleaned out underneath my bed. It was still cold and sunny. Today it is cold and snowy! Yesterday afternoon Mom drove in a teacher parade around her school district to wave at the kids. When she came home, she had a good cry. It is very possible and likely that we will be in this thing until June. So my birthday and Jack’s birthday and maybe even Dad’s birthday will be like this. Maybe even a second wave in September, if this is like the Spanish flu of 1918.
I’m scared. I was really scared yesterday, but feel as if I’m living in a snowy dream today. Dad wants me to stop my dog-walking job, which I understand, but it still pisses me off. That was my last avenue out of the house. I have not left except for walks and short drives since Thursday.
Dad made a delicious ham dinner last night. We had cinnamon rolls for breakfast and takeout for lunch, in honor of the twins’ birthday. We will have 2 cakes tonight. So it’s not deprivation, just insanity.
The twins start virtual school this week. I start next week. I’m worried about the amount of work that I have to do, but really, I have more time. Now that I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything, I have more time to work. Research is independent stuff, and I’m keeping a steady work schedule this week. I feel good about that, at least. I don’t feel good about everything, but at least I have that.
I didn’t have any nightmares last night, so that’s good. An improvement.
I just took the twins’ yellow cakes out of the oven. Anna is doing homework in the kitchen. The dog is outside. The Attorney General says things are going to get a whole lot worse, especially in New York, where people are not following social distance rules. It’s probably for the best that I stop dog-walking.
Have taken a break from my tried and true Stevie Nicks playlist to relisten to Court and Spark by Joni Mitchell. “People’s Parties” is one of my favorite songs. Laughing and crying are the same release, even when we’d like to pretend that they’re not.
More later.
March 24, 2020: Day 12
Writing a little bit before I get to work. Anna is on a video call now in Mom’s room. Fran has one at 5. The nice thing about being a history major is that nobody knows how to use technology. They’re just leaving us to our own devices, which is cool and nerve wracking at the same time.
We had 2 cakes yesterday for the twins’ birthday. Then we played hangman and word games on a video call with our extended family. It was ridiculous- and lots of fun!
March 25, 2020: Day 13
Whoops. Got distracted (and a little depressed).
Jack and I have finished 2 jigsaw puzzles in 2 days. I measured our dog today. He is exactly 24 inches long. I’m going insane. I drove over to my grandparents’ house to bring their mail to the front stoop for them. It is cold and rainy and wet here so we can’t really go outside. Yesterday a student living on campus tested positive for coronavirus. People are dying in Italy at an astronomical rate. Almost a thousand per day. 150 have died here. In NY there are 25,000 cases, and Cuomo expects the number to triple every 2 days. There aren’t enough masks, ventilators, or nurses to treat people. They’re calling nurses out of retirement to help. It shouldn’t be presented as a feel good story. It’s horrific.
Prince Charles has coronavirus. Just got another email that another student tested positive. Jesus Christ. This semester has been so ominous.
Just went and wiped down commonly-touched surfaces: the toilet, the faucets, light switches, doorknobs, the kitchen garbage cans. I’m anxious and bored. I am going to survive this, I’ve decided. I refuse to be beaten down by this. I am going to have a full and long life. This is my chance to learn how to live a more intuitive, grounded life. Jack starts online school today. I start on Monday. I’ve made pretty good headway on my research so far. I think I’m a little behind on my capstone project, but I have time to catch up and I worked on it yesterday. I have to get up from my desk and move to keep my back from getting sore.
Have to go and do some work. More later. 11:05 PM
Am tired, but can’t sleep. Did some work, a walk, and some yoga. I want to strengthen my body and get out of my brain and cell phone during this time.
I want to bake tomorrow. And start running. I should make a list of things I want to do.
Throughout all this, women are still having babies, still getting pregnant. Years ago when I was a cynical teenager I would have sneered at their selfishness, but now I admire their courage. The pursuit of joy in the face of a global pandemic takes serious bravery and strength of character. Women still having babies is a sign that the world keeps turning. It has to be somewhat decent if someone thinks it’s safe enough to give birth, right?
I wonder what my takeaway will be from all this. How I’ll live my life afterward. Who I’ll be. Will I be able to make it out there? God. I have to grasp that growing up is a process, not an overnight event.
That’s all I got for tonight. Too sleepy.
March 26, 2020: Day 14
Woke up feeling okay and clear, now feeling emotional.
[ Note: personal, emotional tangent omitted for privacy]
Well. I’m gonna get up and have breakfast and do yoga now. Maybe go for a long walk alone.
Teresa.
March 27, 2020: Day 15
Yesterday turned out to be a really good day. I did a yoga video, went on 2 family walks (the second with my siblings only), did laundry, rode my bike, made cookies and worked on a jigsaw puzzle. I did no schoolwork, but it was still good.
Grr! Just spilled my coffee all over. Well, that’ll turn the pages all yellow and old timey for my kids. Like a real primary source.
Moving my body felt really good, so I have to make sure to incorporate more of that into my daily life.
10 PM
Worked hard on my jigsaw puzzle. It’s a collage of famous Van Gogh paintings. I just
have “Starry Night” left. We took 3 walks today.
The new Dua Lipa album is out. It is very good.
Chromatica got postponed indefinitely. Isn’t it ironic. 3 years waiting for this Lady Gaga
album, all the speculation and rumors and fake “leaked” songs, only for a global pandemic to hit once we finally get a confirmed release date, and everything is thrown out of balance. Tomorrow is Lady Gaga’s 34th birthday. While I love her very much, I’m not too big on celebrities at the moment.
About to get back online for classes, on Monday...
April 1, 2020: Day 20
Here we are in April and I’m a bad recordkeeper. All the days were gray and gloomy and ran right into the next. I’ve been feeling a lot of emotions lately, probably because of my period.
I drove to New Paltz yesterday, because I was bored and sad. Gas is only $2.19 a gallon right now. The week before everything shut down it was $2.43. Dad filled my tank and my tires and got me more puzzles from Aunt Maureen. I’ve been using them as a coping mechanism. April 5, 2020: Day 24
Today would have been the actress Bette Davis’ 115th birthday. She’s one of my favorite actresses, if not my favorite of all time.
This is reality now. Not anything special or worthy of writing about. At first I was stupid enough to think that it felt like summer vacation. Now it is life without the magic, without the possibility. You go out into the world every day and something new happens every day, even if you follow the same old routine. When we get out of this I will never again take for granted the freedom to be out in public and be with other people. Stuck here like this all my old fears about my life seem even worse. When you’re out in the world, seeing and meeting and listening to new people, anything can happen. You could fall in love. You could get that magical, crucial idea. I miss the magic of everyday life. That’s what I miss the most.
[long personal tangent omitted]
10:57 PM
I feel a little better- took it easy today. Did 2 yoga videos and went on 2 sibling walks. Read in my bed. Took good care of myself. The sadness lifted slightly, but it is still here in my belly. I think it is here to stay, something that comes as a condition of living now. I will do my best not to take real life for granted anymore, when this is over.
Being outside makes me feel so much better. I should try to get out every day.
April 6, 2020: Day 25
Anna came home from college for spring break a month ago today. Wednesday is one year since our first dog, Odie, died. So much changes so fast. I’m not wholly comfortable with accepting this as the normal conduct of life. I’m wary of getting complacent. I have to keep my eyes open because I’m tired of feeling “blindsided” by things like coronavirus and Trump. Americans don’t believe in things until somebody they know dies from it. I don’t want to be like that. But also, phones and media are a rabbithole. When I feel myself having an emotional reaction to something on my phone that is, nine times out of ten, bullshit, I have to put it down. It’s a pit of nothing and it makes you feel worse and worse. I’m trying to limit the number of times I open social media. It exacerbates loneliness and draws me away from what’s really important.
The sun woke me up this morning, pouring from the twins’ room across the hall at full blast before 7 AM. It’s beautiful. The end of last week was gray and gloomy. That made all the isolation worse.
This week, everything is yellow. Forsythia and daffodils are in full bloom. The little slope behind the duck pen in our backyard is covered in wildflowers. There’s a flowering little pink crabapple tree in the lower end of my neighborhood that is so pretty. It reminds me of the trees across from the fieldhouse at my old high school that would bloom bright pink every May. Girls used to take the blossoms and weave them into their hair or May Day crowns. I can still remember what the petals smelled like, how they felt getting stuck to the bottoms of my sneakers. Like pink confetti.
That’s all I got. It’s a little before 9 AM. I’ll probably do a night recap. My schedule consists of exercise and homework. What fun...
April 7, 2020: Day 26
It’s about 2:15. I’m sitting in the backyard with Pete to avoid doing my homework. I’m having serious perfection anxiety about my work that is worsened with the lack of human contact.
While I am opposed to picking flowers, I have pressed a few in here. Forsythia and wildflowers, some little bluebell-ish things, violets. The little mundane weeds are so pretty.
It is so still out here, no cars, no kids, no dogs barking. Even Pete is napping on the patio. There’s just the distant hum of the Thruway and the dishwasher.
I like listening to the birds out here, too. And the breeze. There are so many layers to something as average as a yard. There’s earth and sky and trees and flowers and the breeze and the song of birds. Running water, if you’re lucky. Who could want more than this?
Fresh air makes me so optimistic. It makes me fall in love with invisible people, makes me feel like anything can happen, even while confined to my own home.
Reality is magical, in its own subtle way. You just have to be paying attention. There’s a famous Mary Oliver quote about listening to the outside in order to open the doors of the soul. Y eah.
[Note: I looked it up! It is from the last stanza of the poem “Mockingbirds”: “I was standing
At the edge of the field-
I was hurrying
Through my own soul, Opening its dark doors- I was leaning out;
I was listening.”]
Attention is love. It’s a higher vibration. It’s devotion. When you decide to make time for something, to think about it and see it, of your own free will, that’s devotion. That’s love.
But how do you decide to make time for something? How do you know that it will be fruitful?
I don’t know. Intuition, maybe, but intuition can be clouded by so many things that you don’t even know. So many things are not you, but you think that they are. You have to get older to realize how many parts of you were made, molded by, stolen from and informed by other people. Sometimes you don’t even realize at all.
I hate using second person tense. It seems silly, and like the easy way out to universalize my own thoughts and experiences. I don’t think there’s any such thing as a universal experience- that’s what makes the shared ones so resonant and magical. We all experience the same facts put into motion in diverse ways. That’s an emotional interpretation of reality.
Look at me, waxing philosophical. Look at what silence and sunshine do for me. Maybe I need noise cancelling headphones. Music is nice, but it sets my brain on a certain track, gets me thinking. It’s like watching a movie. I don’t watch movies too often because they’re too emotionally potent. They sit with me, and I feel like I’ve been hit.
It is about 3:15 now. Pete is back outside with me after going in. He tries to be friends with our male duck by just letting him peck him through the fence, but the duck isn’t having it. Also, Pete pees on him at least once a day.
Now he’s back asleep on the patio, sunbathing.
It is so warm outside. So lovely and seductive. I never want to go back to my desk again. The sky is blue with some big fat gauzy clouds.
Pete has moved to another spot in the yard to sit and think.
It is a full moon, the only supermoon we’ll get this year, I think. It is the fourth one this year. A quarter of the year gone. I went out and saw it last night. It was certainly bright and clear.
Teresa.
April 8, 2020: Day 27
A weird night, but a better morning. Mixed reviews on the Schitt’s Creek finale last night from some of its biggest fans. I liked it just fine. How do you wrap up 6 years of work in 21 minutes? It’s an impossible task, but I thought Dan Levy did well with what he had available to him. Schitt’s isn’t a big, American network TV show- they are not afforded the timeslot and budget of Modern Family, which has gotten to be a show of much lower quality, but which gets a 2 hour finale tonight. Schitt’s doesn’t have the big network support, but it has a flamboyant wardrobe and a big heart.
I was growing intensely frustrated with my mom’s pessimism last night. Anytime I feel myself getting worked up, I have to go and sit in another room. I distance myself. It might not be the most emotionally healthy tactic, but it works. But then when we had to do our “mandated” daily sibling stretches at 10 PM because we forgot, Mom told Dad that they had the best kids ever. So maybe Schitt’s Creek just made her emotional.
[Note: for a 3 week period here, the 4 of us kids were doing 5 minutes of daily stretching in our living room because we were silly, bored, and wanted to emerge from quarantine with enhanced flexibility.]
I feel good. I have 5 more pages of my thesis due tomorrow morning- technically 4, since I’m at 6 and I have to be at 10. I’m trying not to be too anxious about it. It’s going to be okay.
Today is the second night of the pink supermoon. Or third- not sure. There is a bunny living in our yard who is incredibly friendly. I always have weird animal experiences during significant full moons. There was that night in September last year when Mom and I saw peacocks, deer, a horse, and two raccoons on one car ride.
BERNIE SANDERS JUST DROPPED OUT.
[Omission of several lines of expletives]
Oh God. I just don’t know how it’s going to go now. I’m tired of the whining and the hopelessness, but both are only going to get worse. I just don’t see the future moving forth in a sustainable way under Joe Biden. I see Americans continuing on the same old bullshit, until the union unravels. Of course there are always threads and elements that emerge that I don’t have the foresight to detect- anything can happen- but I don’t see any of that. Just the status quo, droning on in our cesspool of apathy and mediocrity until a larger force swoops down and bonks us on the head. Americans love to ignore problems until somebody dies. Then we cry innocence. Oh, God.
Anyways.
The bunny I saw was beautiful. He had big glassy brown eyes and skinny legs. The back of his neck was tawny red. His ears were brown, tinged with gray. He hopped all around the yard with the four of us and Pete in plain sight. Jack restrained Pete so that the bunny would feel safe, but Pete stayed still and calm until the bunny disappeared into the forsythia bushes. I saw him two days in a row, and I have never had a wild animal so close to me. Both times we were less than three feet apart. Weird full moon things.
I’m so hungry today. And procrastinating. Unfocused. I cracked this book open to write at 11:30 and it’s 1 now. The flowers I pressed in here yesterday are pretty.
Dad says the damage done by this thing will last years. Well, that’s fucking great. I am entering the world when the economy is trash and I have limited qualifications/experience (a degree in history) to begin with.
Well. Let’s not worry about that now.
Teresa.
April 9, 2020: Day 28
Today is Holy Thursday, though Easter is kind of an afterthought for us. Dad is out attempting to buy stuff for dinner on Sunday. We’ll see how it goes. He works tomorrow and Monday, I believe.
Our cat, Nelly, killed a mouse in the night. I submitted 10 pages of my research paper. It needs more work, but I think my draft is the strongest in our peer review group. I’ll be bold enough to say that. I’ve worked really hard on it. I just get so insecure about sharing and editing it.
Today is (my dear friend of 10 years) Katie’s 21st birthday. When I posted a photo of us on my Instagram story, my cousin Carissa couldn’t believe that I was also turning 21 in a few weeks. I don’t think I can, either. Well, I try not to think about it. Age is one of the many things that make me anxious. I don’t think I’ll ever be a fully-fledged adult.
It is a rainy, gloomy day. I have work to do, but I’m tired. All I want to do is read and play outside, but that’s not an option today.
I just finished the show Derry Girls on Netflix. No show has made me laugh out loud like that in a long time, not since I watched Fleabag in the fall. I am Clare Devlin. She’s my favorite TV show character in a while. I love how the show is like a regular teenage sitcom, with the Troubles as the backdrop for their hijinks. Like the girls sneak out to see a boy band concert in Belfast despite the fact that there’s bombs going off everywhere. When the dad, Gerry, catches them on the evening news, all he does is smile, because they got the chance to be real kids. Their daily lives are not impeded so much by the violence- they just need to be careful of crossing boundaries and switching currencies in certain places, and they have the option of escaping on holiday if things get too scary. It’s a comfortable kind of threat, sort of, like now, only the Irish Catholics faced a tangible, physical enemy. They could see the Prods, in their orange. And they could still go outside and hang out. And they had a stable economy. So things weren’t unbearable.
It kind of creeps me out to know that the cast is all in their twenties and thirties, but it’s still a good show. I wish they showed Clare having crushes like the other girls.
We all just want to be loved and told that it’s alright, that everything about us is just right. For some of us, that need is more heavy and prescient (yours truly) than it is for others. For some of us, the need keeps us up nights and consumes our thoughts. We sit and wait for the right one to come along, unaware that our approach is the completely wrong way to do so.
Is it obvious that I’m lonely?
Politically, without Bernie everything seems hopeless. This is overdramatic, I know, but his politics were the closest to my own that I saw in the public arena. His and Liz Warren. I think he didn’t want to endanger people by making them come out to vote in the primaries, and he knew Joe Biden was too stubborn to give in, so he fell on the sword for the greater good. Few men are willing to do that. So now I don’t get to vote in the primary. Just sit and wait and sleepwalk to the booth on November 3rd, sit and sleepwalk to our inevitable national demise.
I think it’s a privilege of the comfortable to fantasize about anarchy. People who have experienced real chaos and suffering don’t crave more. It’s the average Joe, for lack of a better term, bored into mindlessness by the bounty of capitalist America, who shouts for an anarchist country. Society is structure. The problem with ours is that it’s inherently racist, classist, and misogynistic. We don’t want the absence of order. We want a more inclusive, compassionate order. True liberty and justice for all. We seem farther away from that and deeper into our apathetic malaise than ever.
Teresa.
April 10, 2020: Day 29
I’m reading a silly fantasy book about Avalon, which allegedly existed on the Isle of Wight in the Roman Empire. Actually, there were 7 British islands that comprised Avalon. I don’t know. I’m not sure. Or maybe Avalon was one island. It’s not very well explained in the book, but it’s entertaining escapism. It’s Lady of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley, which is the middle part in a trilogy, hence why she didn’t feel the need to explain or give context to the complexities of her world. [Note: I was completely horrified, after finishing the book and Googling MZB, to find that she was accused of molesting two of her children, and helping her husband to molest other children. I threw the book away.]
Fantasy writers have this irritating habit of establishing a context of the first 10 pages of one book, then spiraling off into multiple verbose tomes in the hopes of enthralling a devoted fanbase, who in turn keeps fueling them to write more unnecessarily long books. This book is a modge podge of themes from ancient and early modern history. It has Druids and Nazarenes, Romans and Saxons, ley lines and reincarnation, fairies and sex rites. Granted, it’s very well possible that all of these groups interacted in real history, but whether they believed in all of that is dubious. And for a region of the world where the Celts and the Norse also traveled, she mentions their mythologies very little. She is stuck on the Britons. Their national identity shouldn’t have mattered that much at all, but there’s this odd paradox where the main characters are proud of their ethnicity, yet it’s emphasized by the characters that “the spirit” is more important than the earthly body, that the spirit is eternal, that Avalon is an energetic realm rather than a physical place. You can’t have both be true at once, and if you do, you have to pull it off really well. Marion Zimmer Bradley does not.
Fantasy books annoy me because the writers get to play God. Instead of crafting the experience of reality as seen through their characters, they get to make their own reality. Recreating real people and the way they interpret the world, through words, is a lot harder than just making some shit up. You can’t argue with a fantasy writer because they made the rules. It’s too totalitarian for me.
I had some more to say, but we just got the news that Fran’s ex-boyfriend’s mother passed away very suddenly. Fran’s upset. There’s a lot of complicated emotions there, but that family has always been nice to ours. It seems unfair that the sadness of every-day life should continue during a pandemic...
LA TER
Just buried a dead rabbit out in the backyard. Not the big one who’s been visiting us, but maybe her baby. It was the right thing to do, rather than leave it to let Pete get it. Too much death everywhere. It’s Good Friday. Damn.
I’m engrossed in this stupid book, but I don’t like it because it doesn’t quite feel right. I can’t quit, though. No ancient priestess would continue to have babies with the knowledge that she couldn’t raise them herself and continue to do her job in her society. If the writer is going to argue that women in their crafted society have reproductive freedom, the women in her book should take that into consideration when making their choices! And why would any British pagan woman want to enter a marriage alliance with a Roman soldier? That’s counterintuitive, and it’s not like the Druids had a shortage of available men. The Roman Empire was the most visible symbol of Western civilization before Britain. They raped and murdered Celtic and British pagan women. They’re not snuggly and romantic. They’re murderers.
It feels like bad storytelling. It grinds my historical gears. I have to find something to get intellectually fired up about because I’m not in real school.
Teresa.
April 13, 2020: Day 31
I have gotten very into Kate Bush lately, particularly her 1978 album The Kick Inside. It’s practically a perfect album, and she recorded it when she was 19 years old!
On Saturday we dyed eggs and yesterday was Easter. On Saturday our cat Sebbie brought me a dead mouse. He stole it from Nellie, killed it, and ran down the hall with it.
Yesterday we had our usual Easter morning, candy and eggs and cinnamon rolls. It was a beautiful sunny day. As always we failed to find one egg but we have all the time in the world to find it.
Mom got the idea to make an Easter parade. We had just started to make posters when my cousin Brianna pulled up to the house. She brought the twins a late birthday present, hand sanitizer (squirted into Ziploc bags, lol), Lysol, and chocolate bunnies. Just as soon as she pulled up, her sister Carissa pulled up in front of her, on her way to visit their dad, who lives in our neighborhood. It was a lot of fun and one for the books.
I filled plastic eggs with candy and put them in my purse. I grabbed a jigsaw puzzle that my aunt loaned me. Then we set off to make our rounds, loaded down with gifts. We brought an Easter lily and a chocolate bunny to our first stop at Grandma D’s house, which was the saddest one. That broke my heart because she just cried. She said,”Oh, just let me gaze at you all!” This thing hasn’t made me feel the grief yet until we saw Grandma. I’ve felt scared plenty of times, but not sorrow. I miss Grandma. I feel so sorry that she’s so alone and there’s not much we can do about it without risking her safety. What we did yesterday was all we could do.
Then we went to Grandma and Pop’s house. We waved from the driveway. We moved on to Brianna’s house and my aunt’s house, throwing plastic eggs on their lawns. I was surprised by how touched everyone was, and how sad they were to be apart on a holiday. Holidays are usually messy for us. There’s always something that goes wrong.
It is a dark, rainy day today. We’re supposed to get 1-3 inches of rain today and winds up to 50 mph. The power might go out. I have plenty of schoolwork to do and some work around my room.
My houseplant that I got when I turned 19 is huge now. Good for her. I keep watering my plants, cacti too, even though those don’t bloom until November.
I’m proud of my first houseplant. I barely thought that I could keep myself alive at nineteen. Having an external being that I was in charge of tending to made me feel a little bit better about myself. There was a time where I didn’t care for the plant for weeks and it almost died, because I could barely bring myself to care for myself, but I put a little water in it and she perked right up. She’s durable. So am I. That I made something grow, become a full thing with long vines, made me feel proud.
I’d like more plants, when this is all over. I want to grow a garden in the backyard. Dad says he has that on his list of things to do. He says we’re gonna grow as much as we can on our own.
I need to move on right now, but maybe more tonight.
Teresa.
April 14, 2020: Day 32
I am skipping my one video conference of the week. I just don’t have the patience for that today. I’ve done yoga, gotten dressed, had breakfast, cleaned my room, and read. I am tandem reading three Irish books. I finished one about ghost stories, and now I am reading a short story anthology and a nonfiction book about a woman who was forced into an asylum by her brothers because she ran away from her arranged marriage. The writing is clunky, but it’s compelling enough.
It poured buckets yesterday, like a full whiteout around 3. Then the sun came out after dinner. Dad is off W-Th-F this week. Everything should be green and lush now. Though it looks like it might rain again...
I just want to read. I don’t want to work, though I have so much of it to do...
I don;’t know why I’m so into Irish stories all of a sudden. I have never cared about my ethnicity before. Is this some kind of self-excavation, interpreting myself into my larger context? I identify more with the impoverished Irish American experience than I do the Irish experience, though my grandmother has made sure to bring the old world over here. The blue steamer trunk is a family relic. The banshee woman of Patch Road...what the hell is a banshee woman doing in America? Who put her there? My family or the Irish immigrant community in Saugerties? If I told an Irish person that we have a banshee in America, would they laugh at me (probably)? Why hasn’t the banshee been spotted since the ‘70s?
I keep having childhood ethnic memory flashes, like reading this book of Celtic legends for children on the playroom floor at Grandma’s house. I can’t remember what it was all about, but I remember the colors of the sunrise over the mountains. I remember the birds and the fairies, a slight mention of old goddesses. Or witches. There were redheaded women in there, beautiful women.
I don’t know why this is coming to me now. Because of what all I’m reading, I’m having Irish dreams. I dreamed I was there with my grandmother. Why is this important to me? I have never cared about my own past. I never believed that I had a past life. I don’t know how this is all connected to me. My spirituality? My interest in stories? The love I have for both? My sense of political rebellion?
So it’ll be interesting to see what comes of this.
I hope I can bring myself to do some work today. I am falling behind and I have so much due in 2 weeks...
It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be great. It’ll be great.
Teresa.
April 15, 2020: Day 33
Can you tell that I’m lonely? Can you tell that I want to change my life but have nowhere to go and nobody in love with me? I have no idea how to make somebody fall in love with me or who it would be. What do I do? Sit and wait? That’s all there is to do in quarantine. Now CNN is saying that some colleges won’t come back until Fall 2021.
My parents got a stimulus check. Dad has been at the grocery store for an hour.
My capstone paper got cut down to 20 pages from 25 because a bunch of boys complained. I have 11 pages done.
My car got a recall notice. I can’t sleep at night. I want my life to go on.
I am outside with Pete now. Nellie (the cat) is howling miserably from the porch. It’s a clear, crisp day outside. Cooler than it has been, but at least the sun is out and it’s not raining. I always feel better in fresh air. I love listening to the birds. It’s like a simple pleasure of mine now.
Teresa.
April 17, 2020: Day 35
I taped these flowers here 2 days ago. They’re very pretty. We’ve had Pete for one year today.
My left wrist hurts so bad, so maybe now is the time to learn how to do this [become ambidextrous- I switched hands here]. I am at 16 pages in my capstone paper. The full draft is due in 6 days. I am slowly losing it. Next semester will probably be online, at this point.
I have only heard one Fiona Apple song before today, but everybody in my Twitter feed is talking about her new album. The first song that appealed to me was “For Her.” That was bruising. She said, “You raped me in the same bed that your daughter was born in.” What a line.
“Cosmonauts” was good, too.
Some women just feel like relics of a bygone past, like Fiona Apple. You can’t imagine her using a cell phone or being on Twitter (you can’t imagine Joni Mitchell or Stevie Nicks doing either, so maybe that’s a positive trait). I was watching the new Hulu show, Mrs. America last night, about the ERA and Phyllis Schlafly in the ‘70s. There was Betty Friedan and Gloria and Bella Abzug and Shirley Chisolm, the usual cast of characters you’d imagine from the second wave. Watching the show made me realize that I have outgrown Gloria. I have outgrown the need for pretty faces and figureheads, and especially for affluent white women who live in furnished apartments in New York and write Very Important Essays. I used to be in awe of Gloria Steinem’s power and celebrity. Now it frustrates me. I found myself feeling more aligned with the women who took more direct action and received less press attention, like Shirley Chisolm and Bella Abzug and Betty Friedan. I could see why Betty was so frustrated with Gloria. Now Gloria seems like the least timeless of these women. That’s what happens when you become a symbol. You fade.
Also, Gloria’s listlessness has always pissed me off. She was the cool, slim supplier of deadpan soundbites- that’s it. She never appeared messy, unruly, emotional or multidimensional, as all women are, at one time or another. Of course, that might very well have been a concession she made in order to get airtime in a patriarchal press. I will always respect her- I read all of her books, including My Life on the Road, between the ages of 16 and 18- but she’s on the backburner for me now. And anyone who can be friends with Lena Dunham and Hillary Clinton is somebody I’m wary of. I’m not sixteen anymore, and I know that not all powerful, famous, self-proclaimed “liberal” women are really liberal at all. I expect more out of my icons.
I almost liked the TV version of Phyllis Schlafly better than TV Gloria. Of course, Phyllis had Cate Blanchett working in her favor. Schlafly was competent- she had a degree from Harvard and raised six kids. Though she was completely backwards, she worked hard. She just worked hard for evil. What Cate Blanchett and the series brought to light was the fact that the people Schlafly worked the hardest for, men, did not care at all how hard she worked or what she did. So who really won?
Just saw that I was listening to the Fiona Apple album on shuffle, not in order! Gr... She let her dog bark all over this album. Jury’s still out.
“Ladies” is great. So are “Fetch The Bolt-Cutters” and “Under the Table.”
“Evil is a real-life sport when the one who’s burnt turns to pass the torch.” That’s from
“Relay”- wow. Teresa.
April 18, 2020: Day 36
It is snowing today! As if everything else weren’t enough. There is less than a month until my twenty-first birthday. Oh God.
The ambidextrous endeavor continues. I do better when I give myself more space. This kind of hurts- I did not realize how strong my left wrist was until I started writing with this hand. Mom says if I do ten minutes a day for six months, I will become fully ambidextrous. That’s the benefit of living with somebody who teaches children how to write for a living. So, here goes nothing. I am trying to at least reach the bottom of the page. Ta-da!
Fetch the bolt cutters- I’ve been in here too long. A quarantine mood.
I’m just trying to live day by day. Activity by activity.
Am now listening to Tori Amos, who might be my favorite of that generation of female
songwriters...
That’s all I got for right now. Might go for a drive.
April 19, 2020: Day 37 Sunday morning, about 10:45. Took a long drive through Woodstock yesterday. Nobody out on the streets, which was crazy. On a springtime afternoon, the streets are usually full up and the intersection of Rock City Road and Tinker Street is a nightmare. There were maybe five masked people out.
When I came home, my sisters had given Jack a haircut in the bathroom. All three had dug up the old Wii remotes and the “Just Dance” games. They played for a couple hours.
Today I am listening to one of my favorite Brandi Carlile albums, The Story. It’s a classic. It’s perfect.
We’re gonna be here indefinitely. New York is on “pause” until May 15. But people are refusing to stay in, so it could be a lot longer. Time feels fake. The whole month of April is gone. How did that happen? How have we been in here for 37 days? I haven’t left the house in a month now.
I’m not focused. It’s almost noon now. I keep looking at my phone.
I put fresh sheets on my bed last night. Nice to lay in bed and listen to music and yearn. I feel like being lazy today, even though I have so much to do this week. I don’t feel like getting dressed. Maybe in a little bit I will, and do some yoga.
It’s a nice day outside. Yesterday it snowed, rained, and was sunny all in one day. The forsythia bushes on the side of the road lit everything up like fire, in the dark, wet woods around Woodstock, all glazed in water and sparkling.
My houseplant looks a little rough. I rotated her a few days ago to even out the growth on one side, but now there’s holes in the leaves. I think I’m overwatering it.
It’s 2 PM now. We just took a family walk. The girls were playing “Just Dance,” but I think they’re taking a break now. Hung out with Pete outside. Today is a very pleasant weather day. Why can’t I focus today? I keep going outside to play with the dog. It feels so nice out there.
My right-handed experiment is going okay. There is the making of a callus on my right middle finger, just like I have on the left.
I’m just sitting here in the sun, enjoying this tried and true Brandi album. I don’t have much to think about right now. Well, I do, but it’s all gone. I think a lot a lot a lot...
April 20, 2020: Day 38
IT IS TAURUS SEASON. I thought that I signed off yesterday- guess not. It was a weird day. I went for a long drive. Today I have been for a walk and did a 20 minute yoga video that made me sweat like no other. It was a tough one, but it made me feel good to stick with it.
I am watching a virtual tour of the Japanese Garden at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens right now. It is so peaceful to hear birds and see fresh sights: ponds, pagodas, cherry trees. It’s an 18-minute long tour. I miss being able to hike and see fresh sights.
When I get out of here I want to hike and buy an ice cream cone and see my grandparents and fall in love and kiss somebody.
I’m feeling reluctant and anxious about all the school stuff that I have to do this week, so I am just taking it slow and trying to keep myself moving with new activities that I want to do, so that I don’t waste the whole day in bed. It is slow going, but I’m still going.
Our sibling walks are cathartic. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to talk, just the four of us, without our parents. It’s our only freedom.
It’s about 8 PM now. I went for another walk by myself- the first one ever. I saw kids on bikes and a lot of rabbits. Then I came home to play with Pete in the backyard. Today I did two yoga videos, about forty minutes’ worth. I make sure to get physical activity in order to feel better. I think it might be working. Right now I’m tired, though. I did a lot of planking and wrist- related stuff today. I think I’m too tired for right-handed writing.
I also baked oatmeal raisin cookies today. We are eating a lot of cookies these days!
I’m just going to finish this page and go do something creative before I go take a shower. This garden video has led me down a path of soothing nature videos on YouTube. They
are quite relaxing, and actually make me sleepy. So I might have to switch on some music if I want to do a little creative writing.
That was Day 38. Happy Taurus season.
April 21, 2020: Day 39
Happy birthday Queen Elizabeth. Did not sleep well last night. Woke up with a scratchy throat. I feel off and emotional. My past is up and stirring around in my mind. Living around me. It’s all the walking- I run into childhood friends in the neighborhood, home from college. I have time to think about all this shit now.
It’s about 7 PM now. I did some school work today, and went to an online class. Prof. Evans’ ten-year-old son stopped in to say hello. He looks like a small version of his dad. My aunt came by with a puzzle. That’s about it.
April 22, 2020: Day 40
Today is Earth Day! It is cold and dreary here. The sun came out yesterday at 3 PM. I have so much work to do this week that I’m plugging through, slowly.
I keep getting distracted. I feel weird. Time doesn’t feel real lately. Everything feels
optional.
The National Women’s History Museum is taking journal submissions from women for
posterity. I think I might try it out, might excerpt my pre-existing entries to make a historically acceptable journal. So that’s censorship and editing: exactly what irritates me as a historian. As a human being, I need it to protect my vulnerabilities!
I went to sleep earlier than usual last night and turned off my phone early, but still woke up feeling as if I got hit by a bus. I slept maybe 8.5 hours. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to get up and get moving. It’s practically noon by the time I get into my flow. Right now I’m just trying to limit distraction and stay focused on the task at hand. I wrote the first paragraph of this entry at 8 and it’s almost 10 now.
I think I need to schedule a dance break into my day. I get distracted often to dance around my room to a good song, which is so silly, but it’s true. I need to move my body to get pent up energy out, and I love music too much.
Exercise is really important to me right now. I do what I can. I’m practicing modified push-ups to work up to real ones. I do yoga when I make time for it. I walk when it’s nice outside. It’s a way for me to feel strong and in control of my body. Not in control, actually, but as if I’m honoring it, working in tandem with my body, loving it. I want to build a better relationship with my own body.
Speaking of relationships, I just texted Layla [my best friend since middle school, home from Quinnipiac University]. The last time we messaged was the day before Easter, so eleven days ago. I talked to Maddy [my best friend since fifth grade, fellow SUNY New Paltz commuter] yesterday. I’m trying to be a better friend to my real friends, too. That’s a goal I have. I still have goals for myself, amidst all this. I am feeling a slow shift in priorities happening, a heightened sense of the eternal. Being confined to the same daily cycle for days on end has allowed me to consider what’s real and what’s not, what brings me joy. Going outside, reading, writing, music, and yoga bring me joy. So do baking and driving, puzzles, gardening, learning. Meditating, moving my body, movies, poetry, my pets, candy. That’s about all I got.
There’s this Instagram challenge going around where you have to pick 4 albums as your favorites. I could never keep it to just 4! Some of mine would be:
1) Bella Donna (1981)- Stevie Nicks
2) The Wild Heart (1983)- Stevie Nicks
3) Blue (1971)- Joni Mitchell
4) Court and Spark (1974)- Joni Mitchell
5) Miles of Aisles (1974)- Joni Mitchell
6) The Kick Inside (1978)- Kate Bush
7) Exile in Guyville (1993)- Liz Phair
8) The Voyager (2014)- Jenny Lewis
9) The Story (2007)- Brandi Carlile
10) Little Earthquakes (1992)- Tori Amos
11) Melodrama (2017)- Lorde
12) The Immaculate Collection (1990)- Madonna
*added May 6, 2020: 13) MY WOMAN (2016)- Angel Olsen
That’s about it, I think. These are all albums that I have been obsessed with. Some of my
favorite songs come on albums with other lackluster songs (i.e. my all-time favorite song, “Sara” by Fleetwood Mac, on Tusk), and some of my all-time favorite artists make great albums with one or two whoppers that don’t make for a fluid, perfect listening experience. Some only have good singles (Madonna), so their best albums are their greatest hits collections.
Nobody’s asked me to do this challenge, so it’s not an issue, but it was still a fun game to play.
April 24, 2020: Day 42
Yesterday was a busy day. I helped Dad drop Mom’s car at the mechanic for an inspection and an oil change. Then I finished my seminar rough draft. It ended up being 22 pages long. It’s really rough in some sections, but I’m excited to work on it, polish it up. I had to write about 7 pages yesterday. I finished an hour ahead of schedule. Then it was my uncle Jude’s birthday. We made a poster and drove over to stand on the front lawn to sing happy birthday. They gave us a pack of cloth masks. Bartering in the time of coronavirus.
I chatted with my friend Andrea from school yesterday. It felt good to talk to one of my school friends- as a commuter, you’re kind of isolated enough to begin with, but I am lucky enough to have found other commuting/community-college-transfer history majors in my classes to bond with. It felt nice to talk to somebody who knows exactly how much work the seminar project entails.
Mom has a union meeting on Zoom at 10 and Dad is doing work for his BOCES class at the dining room table (my dad teaches an adult education class on Tuesday and Thursday nights for electricians). That’s the communal workspace now, I guess, but I concentrate better plugging away at my desk alone.
Another gray, gloomy day here. It would be easier if the weather was consistently warm.
I’m starting to get back into yoga. I do about 3-5 videos a week. This week I’ve been on a hot streak. I’m starting to think about establishing fitness goals for myself, especially after the semester ends, just so that I have something to strive for. I also want to start running. I’ve been throwing that around for a while, but have yet to start. I think I should. It will give me a sense of strength and accomplishment.
The school is encouraging kids to register for next semester, but a lot of kids are taking off because it’s looking like next semester will be online, too. I think it would be best for me just to finish. I have 6 credits left. The likelihood that I’m going to finish my college education online is very high. So that’s scary. I’m trying to mentally prepare for it, but not enough that my mind starts to spiral out of control on anxiety tangents.
April 25, 2020: Day 43
Today would have been my grandpa’s 96th birthday. A Taurus, like me, and married to a Sagitarrius!
Dad’s been pretty emotional about this birthday in particular, but he’s been trying to hide it by working in the yard and spending 3 hours at Lowe’s.
Yesterday I did a little bit of schoolwork and rested. I’m trying to prioritize my mental health and wellbeing even though I have a lot to do. We took a walk after dinner, because, as usual, the sun only came out at 6 PM. Anna and Jack tried to make homemade ice cream in Ziploc bags yesterday. I’m not sure how exactly it worked, but all I know is that they were unimpressed with the results. Today is a beautiful, sunny day. My old elementary school is doing a parade for its current students at 3 PM. I repotted all my houseplants this morning and did laundry. It’s about 11 AM now. I am listening to an “acoustic classics” playlist. It’s all the ‘70s songs and so forth. “Landslide” and “Girl From the North Country,” two of my favorite songs (re. The latter: my favorite version is the Nashville Skyline recording with Johnny Cash).
Dad got the materials to build table gardens. I am very excited. Keeping plants alive makes me happy, makes me feel useful. It reminds me that progress requires patience.
Yesterday I did a 50 minute yoga video. It was killer, but it felt good to sweat. I want to do a video every day and get stronger every day.
Lately I’ve been feeling particularly bleak about the future. I think it’s because of the idea of having to finish college online. And I have no idea what I want afterwards, or what the world will be like when I’m done. I’m also tired of school, but I don’t know what job I would want afterwards. I want to write, but in a capacity that helps other people, that isn’t just cloistered away in academia or vapid blogging. I want to solve problems and make people (myself included) think. I want to work hard and get my hands dirty. I like community engagement. I don’t want a mindless 9 to 5. I want to be working in a capacity where I can move around a lot and be exposed to new things.
I want all this, but I’m also afraid to have it, because I think that I’m not smart enough or good enough, and I’m afraid of rejection.
I want to stay around here, but I also want to live somewhere else, just for a little bit. Just to have the experience. I could never live in a place without access to nature and hiking trails, but I think I would be okay in a rural area or a suburb of a big city. I can’t do city noise and isolation in a crowded environment. It’s worse than rural isolation, because at least then the loneliness has a peaceful tinge to it. Feeling alone in a crowded place is one of the worst feelings in the world. It reminds me of high school.
My father says the more you do, the more you can do. I used to roll my eyes at that, but it is true. I’m trying to do as much as I can in the confines of my own home, to keep myself flowing in a positive direction. If I stop, I’ll think myself into worry knots. I just need to keep going. This is hard when you can’t plan for the future.
April 26, 2020: Day 44
Yesterday was a good day. Mom made banana bread and tacos, then played Monopoly with us at night. It was the first time we ever played a board game as a WHOLE family, at Dad’s request. Mom is on an upswing now, and wants to make a schedule of activities, like summer camp...
I have a lot to do today that I am anxious about, so of course, I am putting it off. But I will get moving soon, and get out of my head, and it will be okay.
Yesterday we played Hungry Hungry Hippos on the front porch because it was beautiful outside and the sun was shining. It is cold and rainy today and we might even get snow.
My May goals include: finishing out the semester strong, keep journaling, develop an exercise routine, and grow a garden.
I just ate the last of the banana bread because I was hungry. Oops. My days consist of snacking and snacking. Nothing is real anymore. I eat when I’m hungry (which is often). Dad buys a coffee cake every Sunday morning. Today’s tasted like apple pie.
Feeling blue today, and anxious about school. I miss physically being there. I miss the vape smoke, the skateboarders, my friends and the Shawangunk skyline. Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.
I miss being out in the world. I miss hiking and being in my beautiful Hudson Valley. I miss driving to new trails, turning over new leaves, thinking. Too many people are out. It’s not safe to go on the rail trails. And besides, it’s been gray and gloomy every other day.
I’m going to get up and fold my laundry and get started on my To Do list. I can do this.
There’s a (pretty convincing) rumor going around that Kim Jong Un is dead, on top of all this...
April 27, 2020: Day 45
I came out of my funk. I registered for classes but forgot what I even registered for. All American history courses, I think. Go out with a bang. My first love. I narrated my presentation for my capstone project, cringed at the sound of my own voice, and submitted it. I got mostly positive feedback from the other kids in my class. I am always amazed at how some boys will never follow the directions and do the assignment correctly. This one kid didn’t include his thesis or conclusions in the presentation, and when he responded to a classmate in the conversation thread below, he called him by the wrong name. Another guy didn’t submit the assignment until 12, 3 hours after it was due, which gave everybody else a limited time window to submit their responses. I had logged out for the day- good thing I checked back in, just in time!
April 28, 2020: Day 46
Sorry about that. Got distracted last night. I got consumed in rereading The Color Purple. I read the first 140 pages in one night. Walker’s presentation of Celie’s voice is so strong that it just consumes you.
It was cold and blustery yesterday, bright and sunny today. This pattern is supposed to continue throughout the weekend. Then it should hit 70, allegedly.
Dad built beautiful table gardens in the yard yesterday. Our yard is plagued by bunnies and groundhogs and field mice, so the raised table will make things survive. I’ve been asking about gardening for several weeks now, so I’m excited to see this development. He got it done so fast. When he has his days off, he likes to do odd jobs around the house. You hear the table saw going in the basement at 10 AM and smell the woodsmoke from the burn barrel in the afternoon.
Yesterday I registered for classes, filled out my SEIs, did my seminar homework, and recorded my first week of journal entries for this project. That consumed my whole day, because I got so focused on it. I got 17 pages of content typed yesterday, which isn’t much in relation to what I have physically written. I hope the idea of writing for public consumption doesn’t change what I write here. I plan to just edit the messy parts out as I go.
It’s interesting to see what trends emerge and what things I remember. So much is lost already. I forgot that there was a brief window when we thought Trump might have the virus. I forgot the things we did each day, and how we thought about the virus as the days went on and changed. I was surprisingly naive and optimistic at the start of this.
Yesterday was an offbeat day. Anna practiced her flute in the laundry room for literally hours upon hours so nobody could go in there. I know it’s hard to get time and space alone, but for the love of God, for yourself and for everybody else, take a break! Fran was cranky. Mom ordered yarn from Michael’s, but it was the wrong color when she opened the package. I have to have evidence of a recent eye exam in order to renew my license, but the eye doctor’s office has been closed for days. Every time we’ve tried to call to get the information we need, there’s been no answer. So my adult license and legally being able to buy booze will have to wait. That’s okay. We will probably be paused through the end of the year. There’s no vaccine yet, and deaths are plateauing. Not decreasing, just leveling off. It’s only going to get worse in states that haven’t taken preventative action yet.
Yesterday the news came out that of 241 of the residents at the local nursing home, 3 miles from my house, 71 have COVID. How did that happen? It’s horrific, what’s happening in nursing homes. I thank God that Grandma is stubborn and in her own house, because if she had moved into a home in the last few years as her children have been pushing towards, we would be terrified right now. I read this story about a facility in New Jersey that was hiding bodies in order to make their death toll seem lower. They were hiding up to 70 bodies! This is a nightmare. I know that people die every day, but when 50,000 Americans have died because of inadequate preventative measures, knowledge, health care and government action, that makes me upset. Our government could have easily curbed the death toll if we had smarter, kinder, more decisive people in charge. If we had affordable health care and science education in this country, this nightmare would have at least been more manageable, and less of a nightmare. 50,000 people have died in our country, not because of any terrorist attack or foreign conflict, but because of a virus. If this country was intelligent, we would be up in arms right now. Instead, we have people protesting because they can’t be out in public. Imagine being so spoiled and so entitled that you’re willing to put other people’s lives in danger.
I can’t stand this hopeless anger with nothing to channel it into, so I’m going to do something else now. Read, then yoga, then schoolwork. Maybe an evening update.
Teresa.
April 29, 2020: Day 47
It’s about 11 AM. Yesterday was a beautiful day. I did no homework and worked on my journal. I am rereading Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe. I like how easy the love is between Ruth and Idgie, how pure and simple. Granted, there’s no sex or passion depicted between them- Flagg writes about her characters as if she’s their mother- but it’s obvious how they love each other. It doesn’t tear my heart open and make me cry like The Color Purple. It’s just easy to read, and I think that’s what Fannie Flagg’s writing is for.
Yesterday I painted some rocks on the porch. We have a limited supply of old acrylics, so they came out okay, I guess. You have to do multiple coats before the color shows up. Still, it’s a soothing activity.
Today started out sunny, but soon the clouds settled in, and it became gray. It’s not cold- just ominous. It’s supposed to rain for the next three days, then become beautiful for the weekend. I went outside just to forage around and explore. I like listening to the stream and looking at the little purple flowers.
Just went for a ride with Mom, Fran, and Jack around Blue Mountain. I like looking at everything in bloom.
I painted some more rocks on the porch. Mom made banana bread again and I’m addicted to it. It’s the perfect food. It’s literally perfect. Heavy and chocolatey with the homey taste of bananas. Dad won’t eat bananas, but he’ll eat banana bread.
It is gray again. I hate this.
Last night, our cat Nala was howling and carrying on like never before. When we finally figured out what was wrong, it was because she was nose to nose with a neighbor cat on the other side of our front window! She howled horribly, and the cat just stared into our house before meandering off. Nellie’s tail bushed out to twice its size. That was the big excitement of our day.
Last night I washed my hair, did a face mask, and lotioned up. I read before bed and got a full night’s sleep again- 11:30-7:30. That tells me to make relaxing a regular part of my day, so that I’ll get better sleep.
Jack seems convinced that a second wave of the virus will hit in the fall, so we’ll be stuck like this for the rest of the year. People aren’t staying in. One of my mother’s dumb Long Island cousins is still going outside and going hiking with her friends. Kids are still hanging out. Fran says people are unwilling to sacrifice their Instagram lifestyles to save lives. I think that’s an accurate assessment. On the other hand, I like to see how the people who are following the rules are getting creative within the confines of their own homes.
Yesterday was one of Anna’s friends’ 18th birthday. Her mother put a T-shirt and a cupcake in the mailbox for Anna to wear during an 8 PM Zoom birthday party. It was a cool idea, but I’m not sure how it worked out. Anna has a lot of work to do and literally practiced for 8 hours yesterday.
I plucked some white flowers from the hedge across the front yard yesterday, and put them in water in my room. They’re very beautiful, full little blossoms.
I notice that different wildflowers grow in the backyard than last month. Last month it was bluebell-ish things and long white flowers. April flowers are purple. There are violets and clovers covering the lawn, all purple.
The trees are getting their leaves. There are snow white and pink buds on the crabapple tree on the left side of our backyard, and leaves on the one on the right. But that one has dead apples on it. It’s eerie. When those blossom, it’s like snow or a ticker tape parade.
Today is the actresses Michelle Pfeiffer and Uma Thurman’s birthday. A great day to be a Taurus. It is also the 40th anniversary of Radio Woodstock.
I might plant seedlings today and help clear off the back porch. Paint more rocks. I like moving, doing homemaking, physical things and getting my hands in the earth. I am, after all, an earth sign.
I’m asking for socks and face masks ( the skin kind, not the PPE kind) for my birthday. Maybe my parents will buy me alcohol. Who knows? Anything can happen at home.
I like seeing women going gray and white without access to hairdressers, and proudly showing their natural colors in public. I almost think my mom would look good if she would let her hair go white. But then I think it would make me too sad.
Teresa.
April 30, 2020: Day 48
The last day of April. It rained, rained, rained and was dark all day, but it warmed up and became humid by nighttime. I had to play with Pete in the mud to keep him from barking during Dad’s class, but I like sitting outside, anyways. I sat up in the treehouse and just listened.
I did minimal schoolwork today, just responded to other people’s presentations. I only got positive feedback on mine! That made me feel good. Some of them today sucked. We had to keep it to 10 slides and 10 minutes of talking, which is exactly what we’d have if we were in real school. There was one today that was 22 slides long and over 40 minutes of audio! The requirements were made very clear- I don’t understand how the men in my class keep flouting the rules, or why they think they apply to everyone else but them. Last night I painted my nails green. Tomorrow the whole world will be lush green because of the rain. Today I made a color-coded weather chart tracking trends in the weather during quarantine. Some days I forgot, and I was using my own records as a resource. But I still think it came out okay, and looks cool.
I am listening to Tori Amos right now. I am very emotional lately. I slept horribly last night- the worst yet. My brain was all keyed up. I’m thinking about all kinds of things.
Something outside just jolted me out of my thoughts- a tree branch snapped that sounded like a gunshot.
It’s generally quiet tonight. Just the sound of rain, and pets snoring. The girls aren’t even talking. They’re in bed. I have the window open because it was too hot before. The wind just blew the neighbors’ windchimes.
I don’t think I’ve driven my car in two weeks. It’s locked, but I’m just remembering how we used to have prowlers and things. I think I need gas. I haven’t been in a store since March 16th or so. I sat in the car last week while Dad masked up and went into Stewart’s. Gas is $2.09 a gallon now.
Dad is off tomorrow. I notice that I write about him a lot in here. His job gives us our only real sense of time, and writing everything down, of course. He’s the only one left with a real schedule and access to the outside world.
Tired. Will sign off for now.
May 1, 2020: Day 49
I got very into Tori Amos last night, though I think I wrote that last night. Her writing and songwriting are layered full of references- she’s a real poet, devoted to capturing the wild female voice in song. She’s astounding. I’m working my way through her discography. I’m excited for Boys for Pele- that’s up next.
Today Cuomo announced that all New York schools are closed for the rest of the academic year. Mom cried. I’m not sure how people continue to be surprised by this. Half of the states in the country are re-opening this week. It’s going to get worse. So much worse. People will die.
I heard somewhere that anxiety in women is unmanifested rage. Imagine what the world would look like if women were permitted to feel and express all of their ugliest emotions. If we just let them grow wild, instead of pruning them back for aesthetic purposes. We would be full whole people, multidimensional.
Today was rainy, but in a peaceful way. It was pretty to watch. Everything was silver and green. In the night a tree branch pierced through the bottom of a plastic adirondack chair in the front yard- that’s what the sound I heard was. The rain stopped and the sun peeked through at 5. The backyard smells like flowers already, and the apple tree on the left has pink flowers on it. Absolutely beautiful.
This weekend will be beautiful- too bad I have 2 drafts to work on. We’ll see how everything will get done. I’ve been feeling so tired lately. I plan on going to bed early tonight in order to get an early start.
That’s about it for the day.
May 2, 2020: Day 50
I literally just woke up. I had a good full night’s sleep because I turned off my phone and read before bed. I slept 11:30 to 7:30 and only woke up once around 5.
(10:34 pm)
What a day. I have so much schoolwork to do and did not do any of it. It was a beautiful day. I did yoga and wrote a short story furiously. I don’t know. We’ll see where it goes. It’s just a matter of time and concentration.
Everything is green and blooming pink flowers.
I played outside with Pete. He sat in his muddy pool, so I have to give him a bath tomorrow, I think. He smells awful.
The twins visited Scarlett from opposite corners of her yard. They were there for like 6 hours and caught sunburns. Mom and Dad delivered groceries to the grandparents. They visited with Grandma for a while, and she was sad when they had to leave. Aunt Maureen and Uncle Tim have both been over there this week.
When they went to Grandma and Pop’s house, Pop had a friend from college visiting in the driveway.
Mom cleaned out the front closet today and pulled out some of her old paintings that she said she was going to throw out. I took one because I liked it and hung it up in my bedroom. I had a rough day in relation to her yesterday, but the painting touched something in me. It’s the sun setting over some dark hills- nondescript, but it looks like the big hill where she used to catch the bus for school. It really moved something in me, even though it was a simple landscape. It shows emotion, skill, and reverence for natural details. Creativity, passion. All the things that I forget my mother has, that she forgets that she has. It made her feel good that I hung it up, and for a little extra boost I posted it on Facebook.
We visited with my aunt, six feet apart, across her long porch. She sits there and comments on all of her neighbors. The middle aged white women all trickle down the road past her house at 4 PM every day carrying bottles and coolers. Every day they have drinks at a neighbor’s house, about 10 of them. It looks like Stepford Wives, to give an idea of what kind of neighborhood it is. It’s all the bleach-fried mothers of the mean girls I went to high school with, which made the idea of all these people breaking quarantine even more horrific. How can you be so much of an adult baby that you need to get drunk with your friends every day?
My 21st birthday is in 2 weeks, and I have to admit that I’ll be happy for legal reprieve. My parents are rule followers raising rule followers. They never bought us booze because they thought it was “safer” if they could “keep an eye on it,” and even if they did, I doubt that we would have imbibed. It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to.
May 3, 2020: Day 51
I have spent the last 24 hours intermittently weeping to the Tori Amos song “Hey Jupiter” from Boys for Pele. It’s just pure unrequited love and heartbreak and it hits me so bad. It strikes a nerve in me.
I have 2 papers, 18 pages, due in the next 48 hours. I have nothing written. I might write a little before bed. I just have to get started and get into what I need to do. That’s the hardest part.
Today was 80 degrees. We gave Pete a bath. Now he’s soft and smells good. We cleaned off the porch. We ate dinner out there. We took 2 family walks, the first with Mom. It was so hot outside that I caught a little tan. We’re going to have a cold snap this week.
I did a yoga video today and finished up my short story. It’s not very good, but it was an exercise in focus. I might make another one or go back and revise it. When school is finished.... I’m having anxiety about how much there is to do. It’s okay. I’m going to do great- I just
have to do it. Dig in and roll up my sleeves. I can’t imagine that grading will be too strenuous. It can’t be. That’s not fair.
We just lounged outside a lot today. Dad worked on the table gardens, Jack did homework on the porch. A lot of people went out to the rail trails and parks today without masks on- at least 5 people in my Instagram feed went to the Ashokan Reservoir without masks on. It’s not a requirement, but it’s common sense. People are going to die because of congregating in public parks.
My cousin Jocelyn asked for pictures from all the grandchildren to make a Mother’s Day photo album for Grandma, so I sent in the pictures from our delegation.
Jack’s birthday is on Tuesday. We’re going to have a barbecue. I hope they get him an ice cream cake- he really wants one, and Boice’s Dairy has always had a safe, distanced, takeout procedure.
I’m procrastinating badly. If I just sit down and work it won’t be so bad. I know it. I’m a good student.
I feel out of touch with myself right now. If it were earlier in the day, this would be a better entry.
It’s going to be okay. I’m going to work until 12, read, then sleep. It’s 10:40 now. I have 2 whole days to get everything done.
I might watch this movie, The Half of It, on Netflix. I’m scared it might make me cry.
One hour at a time. I can do this. I’ve got this.
May 4, 2020: Day 52
One of the papers I had to write was a draft that was optional- thank God!
Today I watched the last of the presentations for seminar. One girl from my writer’s workshop stole a very obscure source that I cited in my paper- it had little to do with her topic, and it was obvious that she was using it only to get to her required number of sources. She didn’t steal the exact quotes from me, but it was a weird feeling. Another boy included no text or images, just him talking over white slides. If we were in school, that would be unacceptable. 2 other kids had no audio in their presentations, when the rest of us were able to complete it just fine. It’s funny that everything went off the rails with the last group when they had the most time to prepare.
I just have one paper due tomorrow that’s 10 pages long, but I can squeeze that out easy. I wrote 7 pages last Thursday in 5 hours, and 10 in 8 last semester. I just have to have faith in myself and my skill level.
Dad got called in in the morning to do a small job. He was home by 10. I started painting with watercolors today. It’s very soothing. I just have a little Crayola 8- color set, but I asked for a real one for my birthday.That’ll be something fun and relaxing to do when school is through.
Last night I watched The Half of It and sure enough, it made me sob and sob. I knew it was over for me when Aster Flores started singing “Annie’s Song” 5 minutes into the movie. They don’t get together in the end, but I thought it was great how the director made Aster real and angry and multidimensional, not just the object of desire. It wouldn’t have been realistic for them to end up together in the end, after all the deceit and humiliation. It was more of a coming of age movie than a romance, but it was still fantastic. I even loved the Paul character.
The other song in The Half of It that broke me was “Seventeen,” by Sharon Van Etten. That song came on while Ellie and Aster were in the car.
I’ve been trying to think of what else is new. It was a busy day, so my head is hazy. Pete ate one of Jack’s birthday presents. Half of a new charger, gone.
I’m sleepy, so will call it quits early and get to work on my project tomorrow morning. I
was up and going at 9 today.
No exercise, but my hamstrings are sore- I wore sandals on our family walk yesterday,
which wasn’t cool.
This Angel Olsen album is cool.
May 6, 2020: Day 54
Too busy celebrating Jack’s 15th birthday and writing a paper yesterday to write. It’s bad, but it’s in.
Jack got his gifts in the morning. It was cold and sunny. I put on a blue dress to feel motivated to work. Our grandparents, aunt, and cousin Carissa came over at different times to say hello from the driveway. Dad worked on the gardens because he was home again. He had to wrap them in plastic BECAUSE IT IS GOING TO SNOW AGAIN THIS WEEKEND. Grrr. Here it was 80 degrees on Saturday.
One of Jack’s friends surprised him and put a bag of his favorite snacks in our mailbox, which was nice.
Elon Musk and Grimes’ baby was born on May 4. He has seven sons now and is a totalitarian emerald empire heir-technocrat creep. People are dying and he tweeted that this is all an overreaction. Fuck off, you murderer. If you want to talk about rights, let’s talk about apartheid first.
Jack has the same birthday as Karl Marx. Figures.
We had chips and snacks before dinner, and 2 cakes. Opportunities for cake are the highlights of the pandemic.
I’m tired. I just have 9 days of school left, but so much is due between then and now.
Pete killed a bunny right in front of me when I took him out to pee this morning. It was sad and disturbing. The bunny screamed. I thought he ate it, because all I saw was the bottom half hanging out of his mouth. Upon further inspection, I saw that he didn’t eat it, just gave it a squeeze in his jaws. There was no blood in his mouth, and the bunny’s body was still intact. It kicked its legs for a minute before dying. It was awful. Pete didn’t know what he was doing, and seemed to know that he did something wrong by my reaction. He probably killed that dead bunny I found last month, too. He isn’t vicious, just stupid. He probably wanted to hold it, like in Of Mice and Men.
I’m going to do work today and make time for creative things. Take it slow and easy. As easy as I can. I want to sit here and read for a little bit. Get myself out of brain machine mode and back into my body.
This Angel Olsen album, My Woman, is perfect. Full of yearning. (11 PM)
Pete also killed a bird today. WTF?
I got positive comments back on the paper I turned in, so I’m hoping that turns into a good grade.
Did schoolwork. It was cool and gray today, but not unpleasant. Outside smells like flowers, and the leaves are coming in and beginning to cast shadows. Very cool lighting effect. I played with Pete after dinner.
Yesterday a guy who works with Dad tested positive for COVID antibodies. Dad was masked the whole day, and not even in the building as the man at the same time, but until the guy gets tested for the virus and the results come back negative, Dad is on paid leave. This is the longest stretch that we will all be in the house together. He’s home for the next week, at least. This could be very good or rough. Tough to say. At least he has projects to work on, but it’s supposed to snow!
May 7, 2020: Day 55
A bright, busy day today. Mom had online class today. She has a birthday parade for one of her students tomorrow. She joined this wine exchange club on Facebook and was just about to leave it when someone left a bottle of wine on our porch. So that was kind of cool. Apparently this local group got so big that the local liquor stores are starting to offer discounts for people who are participating.
Dad ran errands for hours today, but he was having car issues, so he dropped his Jeep off at the mechanic’s and will use Fran’s tomorrow.
A girl who is my sisters’ age and was in the marching band with us lost her grandmother to COVID. It is ruthless, yet people are spreading conspiracy theories left, right and center. Layla, who’s going to school to be a doctor, sent me a picture of her crying and screenshots of an angry email she sent her aunt today because her cousin keeps sharing conspiracy videos on Facebook. It’s a privilege to bury your head in the sand and pretend like COVID isn’t real. It’s a privilege not to know anybody who’s sick. I wish that I could turn off my heart and my brain and not pay attention to the news, but my conscience does not permit me to do so.
A video surfaced on Twitter yesterday of a white father and son who shot a black man, Ahmed Arbury, who was out jogging, for no reason other than racism. An outcry rose up everywhere overnight, and today the men were arrested in Georgia. But today I saw that that video was taken in February, so it took 3 months for them to get caught. Meanwhile, white people are going out in droves to “protest” the pandemic, toting guns all over and screaming at nurses, and nobody shoots them. Every day it feels like the preexisting conditions of life in America just get worse under the pandemic. How stupid and hateful can people get?
NYS’ pause is extended through the end of the month, though they’re making plans to reopen the northern counties where it isn’t so bad. It’s a weird time.
Lady Gaga’s Chromatica comes out on May 29th. Her fanbase has waited four years for that album, to know the name and sound and aesthetics, just for it to get delayed once we found out the title. Isn’t it ironic? At least we have a release date now.
The NY primary is back on for June 23rd, but what’s the point now?
This morning I studied for my anthropology final exam. Then I played with Pete outside, had lunch, read, wrote something, and took a ride to Mom’s school. I’ve been writing so much lately, for school and here, and this creative thing I’ve been working on. I don’t know how these threads will be connected, or if they are at all, but I’ve been getting like 5 pages at a time. It’s pretty cool. I just sit for an hour and try to make something.
We drove to Mom’s school so that she could make a video saying how much she missed her kids on the playground. There were other teachers there wearing masks, and they all posed six feet apart. The four of us sat in the car and played hangman on scrap paper for an hour. It was nice just to drive around, see the trees and the mountains.
I came home and took a walk with Mom, Fran, and Jack. I have poison ivy all over :(
Then I read some more and finished The Bonesetter’s Daughter. A good novel consumes me better than anything else. I lose track of time.
I played outside with Pete after dinner. The crabapple tree petals are falling on the ground like snow. Real snow will be here tomorrow night.
Tired. Will read, then bed.
May 8, 2020: Day 56
What did we even do today. Well. It’s cold and raining, and it will snow tonight. Two inches or so. We rode in the car with Mom into Saugerties so that she could buy masks for our family from a parent of a former student. This woman opened up a bakery five days before they shut everything down, but she is doing well with takeout orders and selling cloth masks on the side. Mom bought 8 at $10 a piece, I think. They tie over the ears and up underneath the chin. Mine is pale pink on one side and periwinkle on the other, with little white flowers printed on each side. Some come with replaceable filter inserts.
Mom dropped off Dad at the mechanic this morning, then took off on a road trip to Hurley (8 miles) and back. This morning she got another bottle of wine from her anonymous exchange club. She also got a beautiful, ginormous floral arrangement and a Target gift card for Teacher Appreciation Week.
We drove in a birthday parade for one of her students this afternoon. The people ahead of us kept getting out of their cars to hand gifts directly to the little boy, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a parade!
Aunt Maureen was supposed to bring Grandma’s mail in for her and told Dad that she did it yesterday, but Grandma called tonight and said that she hadn’t had it in four days. With our new masks, Mom and I were able to drive up and bring the mail in. When we got there, there was a big box of flowers that Aunt Joy shipped from Delaware as a Mother’s Day gift. It was too heavy for Grandma to lift, and she was very flustered to see us there in person for the first time in months. Mom and I arranged the flowers outside, in the rain: two dozen roses in a pretty vase. Then Grandma was worried that her dinner would burn in the oven, so Mom made her go sit on the opposite side of the house so we could bring in the flowers and the mail and set her dinner on the table. What a commotion!
Grandma was flustered and emotional, but it was nice to see her and chat for a bit.
After we got home, Dad was in a good mood, drinking wine and had just put the frozen pizzas in the oven. Ten minutes later Grandma called. She said, “You left too soon!” and was crying her eyes out. In the mail was the Mother’s Day gift from the cousins that Jocelyn put together. So if we had not gone up, Grandma would not have opened it today. I’m so glad that I got to see her, even from afar.
I made a cool watercolor painting today of my houseplant. It’s a fun, soothing habit, trying to see something as it is and paint it. It’s hard to recreate sight on a piece of paper.
That’s all. Going to bed.
May 11, 2020: Day 59
Haven’t written- been busy with school and the holiday.
IT SNOWED ALL DAY ON SATURDAY! It didn’t stick, just flurried intermittently until about 7 PM. That’s the third springtime snow day in 59 days. Absolutely insane.
On Saturday Mom and I took a long ride. Dad did the grocery shopping. We watched the snow and the clouds changing in the sky. We had no power on Saturday morning because of the high winds. No power means no coffee, which, in quarantine, is devastating, because coffee is what we look forward to in the mornings. A reliable daily pleasure. Dad went to the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru, masked and gloved up, and got us coffee. It was our first takeout coffee of quarantine, and it tasted delicious. Of course the power came on before he got back home- that’s how things go in our family.
I cleaned out the fridge and did the kitchen floor on Saturday. That was my act of service for Mother’s Day. I threw out a full garbage bag of old food. Now I’m extra conscious about waste. There’s a meat shortage...
Little Richard died on Saturday! He was 87 years old, but what a tremendous loss. He was the quintessential rock star that all the most famous white rock acts stole from: the Beatles, Elvis, the Rolling Stones, and later, Elton John and David Bowie. He was the blueprint. His songs are so full of unbridled zest for life and raucous joy that it’s hard to believe that he’s gone.
Mother’s Day was just fine. We got Mom flowers, chocolate-covered strawberries, Dunkin Donuts coffee, a stationary kit, gift cards, and cinnamon rolls for breakfast. We masked up and visited Grandma D from a safe distance. We brought in the paper, as well as flowers and chocolates.
After that we went home, and Mom was doing schoolwork. Then we went to visit Grandma and Pop. Pop asked if we had grades yet, but none of us are finished with school. Fran’s done Wednesday, I’m done Friday, and Anna’s done the Friday after that.
Then Dad gassed up Mom’s car and we went for a little ride.
I forgot to mention that we had the idea to make a family quarantine yearbook. We used Mom’s whiteboard to make a list of “clubs” and “senior superlatives.” Clubs include: the baking club, the gardening club, the walking club, and the sibling club. Superlatives are: best hair, cutest couple (only Mom and Dad can be nominated), and Best Buddies. We’ll see if anything pans out, but Mom seemed to have a lot of fun when we were making it.
I’m in my last week of the semester. Six days until my birthday. Time no longer feels real. What does it even mean to turn 21 in a pandemic?
May 12, 2020: Day 60
Yesterday afternoon we had a terrific thunderstorm. It came down the Catskills from the northwest. I got a weather alert that there was a storm over Mt. Tremper at 4:40 and by 4:42 it was completely dark here. It looked like night. Then the thunder came, and it poured for half an hour. In Saugerties it hailed pieces of ice everywhere. Today it is sunny, and should stay that way for the rest of the week. The temperature’s only supposed to go up from here.
My computer has been so slow lately that I haven’t been able to get much work done. Yesterday all I did was study for my anthropology exam on Thursday. I made about 60 flashcards. I booted it up just now to let it run its course and take its time so that I can get to work.
The governor announced a plan to gradually reopen the state. We only meet 5 out of 7 criteria to open in the Mid-Hudson Valley region. Dad says we might start opening up on June 1, but too soon to tell. I feel kind of unmoored this week. When school is over I’ll really have nothing to do. I’m trying to think of projects and tasks to keep myself occupied and enrich my sense of self from home. I can’t identify myself as a student, because school is ending and I haven’t been on campus since March. And I only have a semester left. I have to find out whether I’d be good in the real world.
I’m going to go get dressed and plug away at my final paper for this class. Deep breaths.
May 13, 2020: Day 61
Dad just got the call that he can go back into work tomorrow.
I am writing this sentence 14 hours after the first one. It was a busy day today. I wrote and submitted a final exam for World War II (2 days early!) just now. I don’t know why I procrastinate so much.
Mom went to her school and packed up her classroom for hours today. Dad worked in the yard. Fran’s finished with school. Jack’s teachers have given up. We took an 11 AM walk today. I worked on my paper. We took a 7 PM whole family walk, too, but our parents walked ahead of us. We were too noisy.
Tired, and have a test in the morning. Good night.
May 14, 2020: Day 62
Coming to you live from the treehouse. I’m taking a brain break up here. I just submitted my seminar paper and my anthropology exam. I got a 56/60 on the exam, which I am pretty happy about. Now I just have one paper left for my medieval class.
I feel weird. I keep waiting for the emotional toll of my freedom and loss of schoolwork- derived identity to hit me. It hasn’t yet, but I know it will. I think this idea of the “endless present” that people keep writing articles about will hit me in a few days. It’s weird, having papers due in a pandemic. Being on deadline when you also believe that time isn’t real is a strange phenomenon. This semester was probably my most ragged around the edges, but that’s the way it was for everybody. It’s okay not to be a perfect student. I still have value. I don’t need validation from anybody but myself.
This is pretty tranquil up here, with the birds singing above and the brook gurgling below. I should come up here more often.
Mom is out delivering schoolwork and plants to each one of her students. I have been home alone for about 3 hours now. This is the best early birthday gift I could have asked for. Dad came by briefly in his yellow DOT truck to pick up something he left behind and stopped in to say hello.
It looks like rain, so I should come down.
May 15, 2020: Day 63
I am done with school! I submitted my last paper at 3:45 today. It was 9 pages and a sentence of decent work. I feel exhausted now. It’s about 8:30 and I’ve already showered and turned off my phone for the night. I just want to read for fun (and sleep). I just have to turn in my textbooks now.
Today was a HOT day: 82 degrees and sunny. The sun and clouds bickered back and forth all day, but it was mostly beautiful sunlight. We took a sibling walk at 1 and I feel like I got a tan from that. Walking on pavement is like being in a frying pan.
I’m concerned that I’ll get really depressed now that school is out, but I made a list of things that I’d like to do. I’m reading a lot. Last night I was thinking about high school, which made me bust out my old copy of Leaves of Grass. I think I read it the summer between junior year and senior year, or between high school and college. I got it as a sixteenth birthday present. Walt Whitman is very enthusiastic about his own poetry, and verbose. That man believes in the power of his own vision, but it doesn’t translate clearly onto paper. Like a true mystic, his visions are hard for the reader to picture.
Cuomo extended the pause until June 13th.
There was a tornado about an hour ago in Rosendale (twelve or so miles away). We’ve just had dark clouds and thunder rumbles here, nothing too terrific.
Mom and Dad went on a “Mystery Shopping Trip” before dinner tonight. It was Mom’s first trip out to a store in 2 months. They got Pete a new basketball, which I am grateful for.
The weather should be pleasant, but cool until Monday or so.
I have had so many funny birthdays. Strange ones, never quite like Sixteen Candles. But nothing should be that way, picturesque, ideal. Life is ever-changing, a true surprise.
I don’t feel as if I’m ageing. To quote the Traveling Wilburys: I’m just happy to be here, happy to be alive.
[Note: this was the last page of the physical journal that I started the pandemic in.]
And on that note: so long and goodnight. What a six months it’s been. 190 pages in 174 days. Two semesters. A pandemic. What a world.
May 16, 2020: Day 64
Whoa, a new journal! Coming to you from the throes of a pandemic. Today was my first day of summer vacation, and my last day of being twenty years old. It was a fun day, cooler than yesterday. Dad did the grocery shopping, then brought me a sweet birthday card from Grandma D. We unpacked. While he was doing the second trip for the grandparents, the three of us girls walked to the cows [there is a family owned dairy farm on a quiet road about a mile and a half from our house]. They weren’t even out to pasture, but it was a scenic walk, and a fun change of pace. This morning I did yoga and played with Pete. Mom and Dad got him a fresh basketball (his favorite toy), but he popped it within minutes. He still loves it, though. He carries it around in his mouth wherever he goes.
This morning, I did a little work on my digital journal. I’m on like Day 45 of that.
Today was SUNY Ulster’s graduation [I graduated in 2018], and I caught part of their Facebook livestream. Dr. Al, the college president, went to 120 students’ houses to deliver diplomas, which was cool to read about. People are adapting, even if it is sad.
We went to bring a bottle of wine to a friend who had graduated from SUNY Cortland and sat in the driveway to chat. We were all so happy to have social interaction, for a change.
Mom got “wined” again. That’s 4 bottles of wine that have been left on our doorstep by the mysterious ladies of Ulster County.
I read a book up in the treehouse for about an hour or so. I finished Leaves of Grass up there. Walt kind of sucks, but he’s okay. You have to be in the right mindset to read him, like hanging out with a particularly gregarious friend.
We had a delicious dinner of stuffed clams, salad, and corn on the cob. Then we went on another walk, this time with Jack. We explored the neighborhood next to ours, then up above our neighborhood on the overpass that wraps around it, then down through our neighborhood again. We got so bored that Fran and Jack made a game of rating people’s yards. Some people had special signs made for their graduating seniors.
All in all, we walked 5 miles today! I am a little sore and sunburnt. I was really tired before I took a shower, but now I have a second wind. It’s probably time to go to bed, though. When I check back in, I’ll be twenty one years old.
May 17, 2020: Day 65
It is 10 PM on my birthday. I got new socks, scrunchies, earrings, a water bottle, notebooks, and some books of Mary Oliver’s poems. We had coffee cake for breakfast. My aunt and cousin came over with prosecco, and we had a toast on the lawn from six feet apart! It was lots of fun. I fielded Facebook posts and phone calls all day. My grandparents came over and visited in lawn chairs from afar. My aunt also brought flowers and a tiny bottle of rose that I had at dinner time. I’m a rule follower by nature, so I don’t have much experience with alcohol. I liked the prosecco better.
Dad took me to Boice’s nursery down the road, my first trip out in 2 months, to pick a houseplant. I chose pink impatiens, which isn’t a houseplant, but I thought it was pretty.
We had a barbecue for dinner and took 2 sibling walks, as usual. I had nice conversations with my friends today.
I just know that something good is waiting for me, I know it, I know it, I know it. I can feel it. Maybe that’s an adolescent way to feel, but I don’t care. What’s that silly song? Something tells me I’m into something good. Yeah.
May 19, 2020: Day 67
Forgot to write yesterday. Was kind of a gray, dull day. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk at 7 AM. By myself, in the gray neighborhood. It was pleasant. Nobody out except a nurse, heading to work. Then I came home and read my Mary Oliver books until Mom woke up about an hour later. I binged these poems, and now I can’t seem to get enough. Each one is perfect. I’ll either have to reread my books or buy more. Or both.
I had birthday cake for breakfast, did my laundry and cleaned my room. The new vacuum cleaner is a miracle. Dad worked. He’s home until Friday, but is doing a freelance job today. Yesterday he had to help a guy get down from his bucket truck, 30 feet in the air!
I wrote for an hour, just some thoughts that might become an essay. Three days out of school and I’m writing an essay of my own accord. Sometimes I cringe at myself. I think it would be cool if I wrote a little more to it, then combed it over, 2 or 3 drafts. It was fun just to wander down a path and not know where it was going.
Then I painted with my new watercolors. There are beautiful hues in the palette my parents got me. Then I had birthday dinner leftovers for lunch. Anna had 4 finals to do yesterday. I worked on my journaling project for a long time. I got into the month of May, at last. Mom and Dad dropped off some blankets in the donation box at our local SPCA. We got a snack box from our aunt in the mail and the game Clue as a birthday present for all of us, which was a fun surprise. At night we had ice cream cake. Not much happened. Nancy Pelosi called Trump morbidly obese and the new Harry Styles video came out.
Today is a beautiful day. It should be mild through the end of the week. Jack, Fran and I walked to the cows again and they were resting in the shade of their barn. There’s not as much trash on the side of the road as there was in March, but there was somebody’s discarded Wendy’s, some dead chipmunks, and a few empty cans of Four Loko. We took the overpass home instead of cutting through the neighborhood, which makes it feel like an adventure.
Mom had Zoom class, but only 10 kids showed up, and one of them is in Florida. I suggested that she go once a week only, but she didn’t seem to think that that was a good idea.
Now I am once again in the treehouse with books and a blanket. I need more Mary Oliver. I’m in love. I’ve been that way with writers, but never a poet. We’ve read her poems in several English classes that I’ve taken in the past, but she never quite struck me so as she has these past few days. Walt is too verbose and TS Eliot is too stiff. Pound, you need an encyclopedia and the whole day to get through one poem. Mary just gets it. She uses the exact right words, and says so much in so few lines. I want to read everything she’s ever written.
That’s all for now. Time to read.
May 20, 2020: Day 68
It’s 6:50 PM right now. If I remember correctly, we walked in the creek behind our house yesterday, all 4 of us. We found a brick, a sheet of plastic, and some cool rocks. Today we found a lot of gravel and a rock that had a fossil-type thing in it.
Fran cooked chili for dinner last night. It was delicious: perfectly cooked, perfect consistency, and had fresh peppers in it.
We took another walk, but my legs are sore! I barely made it home from our evening stroll today. Fran took 3 walks today and yesterday she went out in the morning by herself. It’s all there is to do, our only way of getting out.
Anna is filming her last final for piano class right now. Mom went to a distanced birthday party for one of her friends. She and Dad finally bought the plants for our garden today!! We have herbs and eggplants, carrots, radishes, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, squash and snappeas, I think. There are 32 plots in our 2 table gardens, so we can do anything except for root vegetables. The carrots will go elsewhere.
I rode my bike for a little bit today. I’m trying to work my way up to a full lap around the block, but I’m rusty and it uses different muscles than walking. I need to stretch out, too. I’ve taken a yoga hiatus, and my legs are paying dearly.
I didn’t do much today besides sitting outside, playing in the creek, riding my bike, and walking. I read for a little while and watched TikToks. I swept out the treehouse floor, but didn’t read up there today.
Let’s see. We saw a baby helping her grandparents water their plants on our morning walk, and that was sweet. The neighbor’s one-eyed cat sat with me in the front yard after our evening walk, but wouldn’t let me pet him.
There’s not much else to report. I’m just trying to find ways to bide my time. I’m trying to relax, but stay active.
Don’t know how much more creative output I can produce. I’m doing a lot of observing and reading and thinking, but not feeling compelled to do something with it. Maybe it has to be practiced, like a muscle, or maybe I’m just tired.
May 21, 2020: Day 69
Back in the treehouse, where I’ve been since 9 AM with my blanket and books. I took breaks to play with Pete. He’s been swimming in his pool 4 times today. Mom went to plant the table gardens, but she says with the wooden dividers Dad put in, they’ll get rootbound. He’s doing freelance work today, but said he’d fix it later.
No walk today, but the twins have both been out for long ones. I might ride my bike later. I’m taking a break since my legs were so sore yesterday. I need to stretch.
Mom had online class. Fran cleaned out the pool using rubber gloves and an old snow shovel. I scooped dog poop. Jack is doing homework on the porch. Anna finished her coursework late last night and is now looking up fun yard games for us to play. It dawned on her that she’s going to have a lot of free time now, so I think she’s freaking out.
Speaking of freaking out, Lana Del Rey had a huge meltdown on Instagram overnight. I saw it first thing in the morning. A short summary is that she attacked black women (and Ariana Grande and Camila Cabello) for her own lack of mainstream success. I think she’s pushing thirty-five and feeling the pinch of not being a big pop star, despite her initial assigned “indie” label. She was too pop to be indie and too sensitive for pop. Anyways, she wrote this whole missive in the Notes app about how it’s unfair that she’s being “attacked” by “feminists” for romanticizing abuse (which she does, and often) while Beyonce, Kehlani, Nicki Minaj, Doja Cat and Megan Thee Stallion get to sing about sex and nobody goes after them, allegedly.
But the thing is that nobody was talking about Lana and nobody was going after her. She was just sitting in her little Los Angeles mansion writing poems and failing to make good on her promises to publish them. It was unprompted, incredibly racist, and unhinged. She had absolutely no reason to lash out at those women, because none of them were talking about her and nobody was comparing her to them in the press. Some of them even liked her before this. The only negative press she’s gotten recently has been about the middle-aged cop she dated and the one (ONE!) critical NPR review of Norman Fucking Rockwell, from last year! And the review wasn’t even negative, just critical!
Not to excuse her preexisting racism as an aspect of mental illness, but I think quarantine is bringing out the worst in white women from her age demographic, and not just famous women, but my family and friends, too. A certain proportion of them feel as if quarantine is oppression, a personal infringement upon their livelihoods, and nobody else’s. Quarantine is exposing how their senses of self are derived from what others think of them and fitting into a crowd, not on anything from within. The cracks are coming out, and women are getting real nasty on social media. It’s really something. For God’s sake, get a hobby.
May 22, 2020: Day 70
Back in the treehouse again. Another beautiful day. Tried to go hiking this morning, but the crowd in the parking lot made me anxious. I think I was erring on the side of caution. Then I went to my aunt’s house to drop off books at her little library. Then I took a long ride, up and down Hurley Mountain, around the Ashokan Reservoir, through Woodstock and home. That took about 40 minutes. When I came home I had a snack and rode my bike around the block, which I’ve been talking about doing for 2 months. It took less time than I anticipated, but I was still winded after. Riding the hill down the street was so fun. Coming up was not too bad. I’m just out of practice. It’ll be fine as I keep going. And I need to fix something with the gears. They keep jamming up on me.
Fran is tanning down below. Anna’s practicing her singing in the house for an extra credit assignment. Just jumped up because there was a huge crash. Thought Pete was hurt, but it was nothing.
Am interested in basketball again, like when I was a kid. I want to see how long it takes me to make 100 baskets. I never really liked playing, just shooting hoops. That’s what I was good at as a kid. Funny how all my childhood habits and desires are coming back under quarantine. I can’t sit still and watch TV. I have to read or be doing something.
May 23, 2020: Day 71
A rainy, muggy morning. Was outside all day yesterday. Made an okay painting in the afternoon. Mom and Dad and I went to the Super Walmart in Catskill to get Mom some shorts that were out of stock at ours. We had masks on, and the store’s huge enough for everybody to keep their distance, but my anxious brain was weighing all kinds of variables. Some people put masks on just to get past the store employees, then take them off once they’re inside. It’s a strange feeling. Now that the weather’s nice, people are starting to shirk the rules. What even are the rules anymore? Only 84 people died in New York yesterday, but that’s still too many. Are we coming or going? How do we resume life after this?
So many people are breaking social distancing restrictions now, people who never would have before. People are babysitting, meanwhile I wouldn’t think of going anywhere near the kids or canines I watch out of fear of inadvertently transmitting anything. I understand it’s a money issue, and college kids need the summer to make money, but this is not like any other summer. It’s an uncomfortable time to be a kid who was raised to follow the rules. I’m not saying that to be passive aggressive: I mean that people who internalized the rules and equated rule-following with morality growing up are in a state of turmoil right now. How do you follow the rules when you’re not even sure what they are? I just feel confused right now. I don’t know what I should or shouldn’t be doing, what to expect or what’s safe to do. I feel more stuck than ever.
Today I shot more baskets, cleaned my room, watered the plants and my houseplants, took a ride in Fran’s car around Blue Mountain, read some more Mary Oliver in the front yard, ate dinner, played with Pete, had ice cream, and I think that’s it. I wrote a little and started a painting, but got distracted.
The table gardens are planted, but all backwards. We bought more plants than we have space for, and less than half were labeled. My mom’s diagram got wet in the rain, so the ink ran and she had no idea what to put where. We’re kind of working in the dark, but we just stuck things in dirt. Dad got more lumber to make a setup for our tomato plants. I put cilantro and basil in a little basket on the railing of our backyard steps.
Today the twins walked about 5 miles up the road to Grandma D’s house without telling anyone because they were bored. Dad scared the wits out of them by pulling up on his way to run an errand at Grandma’s. Then Fran brought a tick home and Mom had to remove it. That’s about it. I’m too tired for much introspection.
May 24, 2020: Day 72
Happy 79th birthday to Bob Dylan. It’s too early to record any of the day’s events yet. I think I’m gonna hash at this for half an hour before I get up to do my laundry and work on my digital journal. I am several weeks behind.
On Tuesday the Mid-Hudson Valley region will have a Phase One reopening, which entails forestry, manufacturing, construction and agriculture, I think. I think it also allows for previously closed retail stores to open for curbside pickup, and gatherings in groups of 10. People seem to think this means we’re on our way. I don’t know. I feel confused, not so much anxious, but lost. I feel like a fool for abiding by the rules, and getting myself worked up when other people don’t care as much. I think I just need to keep breathing and get off social media. May 25, 2020: Day 73
It’s 9:40 AM now. Yesterday was a busy day. I rode my bike down the long loop of our neighborhood and saw that the cops were out and about, at 10 AM on a Sunday morning. That was strange. No sirens or lights. I followed behind them because I’m nosy, but when I saw that they were stopped at the house where there’s always 15 people in the yard, closer than 6 feet apart, I turned around. There’s a whole block of houses (with large outdoor Trump paraphernalia) who we’ve continually seen defying social distancing rules for the past 2 months. At least somebody spoke up. It was good to see them be addressed, but the problem in this town is that the people who regularly ignore distancing rules are cop families, and also, the cops and first responders in our town are testing positive for COVID in increasing numbers! So their families are spreading it to the greater community, but they don’t care if they don’t experience symptoms.
` People down the street from us had a huge dinner party last night: ten cars lined the roadside, although they dispersed after an hour or two. It felt good to ride my bike, but not so good to have a number of old white men throwing unsolicited comments at me. They were polite, but overly invested in the sight of me. I’m not interested in men of any age at the moment, so I was particularly annoyed that one guy chuckled at how I was huffing and puffing to get up a hill (I was out of practice, and my bike is old), and another came up from behind and cut around me on his bike, calling to have a nice day. I would have had a great day if he didn’t feel the need to race up behind me. Why do these men think that twenty something women want to talk to them? I am not exactly trying to invite male attention at this juncture in my life.
Hearing unwarranted male commentary, real and imagined, sucks the joy out of an activity for me. I loved basketball as a kid, but I stopped playing in the backyard because my father, who I love, would always try to compete with me in one-on-one games and impress me with his masculine feats of strength. I never wanted to play one-on-one, but he would come up and block me and race around me, which was easy for him because he was a six foot tall, 200 pound man, and I was a little girl! I love my father, but I resented how competitive and aggressive he was with me. I was maybe eight years old. He would steal the basketball and hold it out of my reach, then hurl it from across the yard in one hand to show that he was tall enough to make three pointers, and I wasn’t. It upsets me to this day. I do my best work in any field when I’m not thinking about any man at all.
Yesterday I worked in the garden beds we have along the back fence, which had been consumed by weeds and vines, from 11-5 PM. It started because Mom said she planted mint back there once, and I was curious to find it. Then I just started pulling things. Then I got gloves, and clippers, and started hacking away at the vines growing over and under the fence from the roof of the neighbor’s shed. Some were just vines, but there was the mother of all poison ivy vines interwoven with them, curling all along the fence, growing up in thick trees underneath the fence, with thick red roots, and weaving up into two tall trees at the far ends of our yard. It was like something out of a horror movie. It even had pink flowers! I tore out poison ivy and morning glories to find that we had mint, lilies, and a yucca plant along the fence. I cleaned out the beds, which took all day, and then watered what was left. Today I might plant sunflowers.
Dad built a stand to grow tomato plants in. He worked outside with me all day. The twins were having a distanced visit with a friend. Then they came home for dinner and Anna mowed the lawn. I was so tired and grimy and sunburnt that I took a shower at 5:30. We sat on the lawn in chairs to talk before dinner time, and the neighbors’ pudgy little yellow dog escaped and ran over to us to be petted. Her dad came to fetch her, and it was the first time we’d seen his face in the eight years that they’ve lived over there.
A big family has moved into the house behind us. It’s nice to hear kids playing in the yard over there. In the past, there have been some real creeps who lived back there.
I fell asleep by 10 last night, which meant that I was up at 5 today. But I’m surprisingly refreshed today. I plan on doing a little gardening and writing today.
May 26, 2020: Day 74
Happy birthday Stevie Nicks! Where to start.
Yesterday I gardened a lot. I planted sunflower seeds all along the back fence. Then Mom had actual plants to put in there, so I did those with the seeds. Then we had leftover plants and no place to put them. So I threw them experimentally in an empty bed and watered them. We don’t even know what they are, because they weren’t labeled. I even had to clear a tiny patch by the garden hose for a single pepper plant. I planted dill, cilantro, oregano and lettuce in pots, and an experimental row of onions by the mint plants. I think the mystery patch might be eggplant, squash, and zucchini.
The girls had some friends over to visit for hours yesterday. Dad worked in the backyard. Anna went for a 5 mile run and made friends with some cyclists out there. Today me, Mom, and Fran waited in the front yard for her to come home, and waved as she “crossed the finish line.”
Tragedy struck yesterday when Dad went to fill the pool. After 4 days of him and Fran working to clean it out, he found a huge tear a;ong the seam at the bottom. He bought a few vinyl repair kits from Walmart, because they’re completely out of new pools. We’ll see what happens.
We had a Memorial Day barbecue for dinner and went for a walk afterwards. A lot of our neighbors were having parties...
Last night I stayed up reading Tara Westover’s book Educated. It was amazing. She handles such an emotionally charged issue in such a beautiful, articulate way. She is a wonderful writer and historian. A woman after my own heart! Watching her growth and determination to learn throughout the book was astounding. She grew out of religious indoctrination, guilt and shame, misogyny, and racist rhetoric, all because she wanted to learn. She dared to want something more for herself. I recommended the book to my best friend, Layla, and she ordered it on Amazon. Today I lolled around, finished the book, worked on my journal, washed my car, watered the gardens, and planted another bucket of lettuce. It’s kind of a hot, lazy day. Jack is outside. Mom is on the porch. The girls went for a ride in Mom’s van. I’m trying to stay off social media.
May 27, 2020: Day 75
Yesterday was a kind of oppressively hot day. I rode my bike in the middle of the afternoon. It was not bad at all, just hot. We’re all getting squirrelly. I put my laundry away and pressed some leftover birthday carnations from my aunt between two heavy books. Tended to my plants. Planted the glass planter full of carrots. I downloaded a plant identifier app and found that our mystery patch is full of eggplant and cucumbers. So that solves that.
Fran cooked ravioli for dinner. It was tasty. Anna’s gotten in the habit of running 5 miles a day, so she didn’t come on our sibling walk in the evening.
I finished reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and it sucked. I read it just to say I read it. Sometimes you have to do that, to reassert what your own values are. It gave me the creeps, like a dystopian novel for incels only.
Shot some baskets, watered the plants, played with Pete. Some kind of animal, probably our annual groundhog visitor, came under the fence in the night and snapped the stems of all the sunflower seedlings. I’ll have to check that out. Good thing I planted seeds, too.
Social media is boring, addictive, and not making me happy. I feel like all the days are running into one another, but I don’t know what to do. I have a limited range of activities to choose from.
Going to go outside, maybe ride my bike. Be back later.
May 28, 2020: Day 76
Today is a gray, muggy day. It’s about 10 AM. When I went out to water the plants, Mom’s radishes had finally sprouted. She’s been waiting for signs of life from them all week.
This morning when I woke up there was a new Lady Gaga song out, “Sour Candy,” with the Kpop group BlackPink. It’s very good and it might be my favorite Chromatica single. I can’t believe that the album I’ve been waiting for for 4 years comes out tonight. It’s been a long road for her fanbase, from the rumors and leaks to “Enigma” and A Star is Born and the makeup line, from her tumultuous personal life, health, and then the pandemic-related album delay. There is no end to the daily mini-dramas experienced by pop music fans on Twitter. It is something to behold, but I’ve felt the negative consequences of becoming too immersed in that stuff firsthand, so I try to just stick to the music.
I was seventeen and very, very stupid in October 2016 when Lady Gaga released her last solo album, Joanne. I couldn’t listen to it right when it dropped at midnight because I had to go to high school in the morning. I listened to it on the schoolbus because I couldn’t drive. I didn’t think Trump could be president, and I thought that Clinton was an angel, and I still trusted in the American government’s ability to deliver liberty and justice to all, regardless of skin color, gender, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status. Now there’s a pandemic, and 3 black people (at least) have been killed by police in the last week. I’m still stupid, but I’d like to think that I have a heightened awareness of my blindspots and privileges, more so than I did at seventeen.
I just don’t have the words to talk about the frequency and horror of racist violence, this modern-day lynching. It just keeps happening and happening, and yet white people, white women that I know, keep snuggling up next to cops as if they weren’t created as an institution to terrorize black Americans. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think it’s my place to speak on social media: I would rather share and retweet black voices. What’s another white college girl sharing the same post to her Instagram story over and over again going to do?
I’m working on becoming conscious of the racism I learned and internalized, how I benefit from white supremacy and the inherently racist structures that govern this country. Sometimes the things that stir up the most knee jerk reactions in us upon reading are the most true. It’s up to white people, especially the “well-meaning,” “liberal” ones, to examine our emotional reactions and intentions in depth to get at the seed of racism in ourselves. All white people need to do better at this. We need to analyze, reevaluate, and think critically about our own complicity, and above all, know when to speak out and shut up in order to better listen to the black people around us.
Yesterday I took a long drive to Phoenicia. I wonder why so many New York towns are named after ancient cities. What’s that all about?
Then I came home and rode my bike a mile. Today I’ve only done a half, but it’s only 10 AM. Me, Mom, and Jack sat and chatted in the front yard for a while after Dad came home from work.
Yesterday I saw a garter snake slither into the basement while watering the carrot planter. Fran and I took an evening walk. Anna is exhausted from all the running she does. My legs were burning afterwards. We take long walks almost every day.
I’ve been taking showers and going to bed earlier, just because I feel so grimy and tired at the end of the day. I almost fell asleep at 8 PM last night. Then I was up having an existential crisis until 1 AM. Just the usual racing thoughts: plummeting self esteem, then life anxiety, then pandemic anxiety. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help, or if I can, or if it’s my place to. My mild anxiety is a privilege, I know. It’s nothing compared to the fear and despair experienced by black Americans. I need to find something constructive that I can do to help.
Today I went for another bike ride. I’m getting better with practice.
We mailed our rented textbooks back. I’m feeling anxious and knocked off my rhythm today. Tomorrow I’m going to try to get out in public (safely), maybe start my dog-walking job again.
May 29, 2020: Day 77
I feel much better than I did last night. I can’t describe Chromatica. As a longtime Lady Gaga fan, it is everything I could ever have asked for from her and then some, but I feel that it’s absolutely imperative to keep the conversation about the album to myself and off social media, because it’s far from the most important issue to be discussing now. The music explodes all over the place, full of joy, but she gives serious thought to emotional pain, the creative process, and the self. I’m on my second full listen. It’s an experience. The instrumental interludes are perfect. When I first heard “Chromatica II” melt into “911,” I started crying. It’s the best, best, best transition on the album. What an album. Absolutely worth all the waiting.
I rode my bike again today. Helped Dad and Fran patch the pool. Took a long drive to listen to Chromatica in full, twice. I’m in love, but also too hurt and angry at the state of this country to say anything about the album publicly. That’s not what this time is for. I have to use my voice to stand up for what is right. Chromatica takes a backseat to that. Even Lady Gaga cancelled the virtual listening party she had scheduled for today, which was the right and necessary call.
I’m so angry that Trump tweeted that the protestors in Minneapolis should be shot. I’m angry at myself for not having the courage to take a public stance. I retweet other people’s work, but haven’t said anything of my own yet. The police were created on racist pretenses and we have to get rid of the whole thing. I used to believe in the power of the presidency and the government to protect the people, but that’s a delusion of growing up white. It’s not just Trump. The whole system is rooted in the oppression of black people, and we are long overdue for serious upheaval.
I’m so angry at the white people who can see what’s going on and not say anything, or keep posting about their daily bullshit, like making pretzels or buying new cars. Fuck. you. You don’t have a conscience.
My aunt visited from afar today. Mom drove in a graduation parade. Maddy and I chatted about Chromatica. I’m reading A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn. I started it last summer, but didn’t finish. I’m determined to now. It’s the least I can do.
We had pizza and beer for dinner. Beer tastes like barf. Now there’s a thunderstorm.
Will read, then bed.
May 30, 2020: Day 78
Have spent the day reading: Howard Zinn, essays by Malcolm X and James Baldwin, Angela Davis, and the first section of Assata Shakur’s autobiography. Somebody on Twitter compiled a reading list, and I’ve started in on it tonight. That’s how I start in on problems: by educating myself. I’m thinking in particular about the connections between racism, imperialism, and capitalism. This country was founded to protect the economic interests of an elite group of landholding white people. That’s how it got built, and that’s how the laws got drawn up. The people in charge have never cared about racial equality or eradicating poverty. All of the aforementioned writers have stated this more powerfully than I have. I’m just trying to process my thoughts. Education is a lifelong endeavor. I think everybody should have the time and the resources available to them to read as much as possible. If you have no time to give to protesting, and no money to give to causes, then reading and sharing information are all you have.
My sisters went to a Black Lives Matter march in Kingston this afternoon. I petered out at the last minute due to a number of factors. First the pandemic, and then because I didn’t know who the organizers were, or what the police presence would be like. I didn’t know if it would get violent, and/or if the high school kids who organized the event could be arrested. My cowardice got the best of me. The idea of the cops getting called on a bunch of teenagers made me very anxious. And not knowing if there would be adults and real activists there made me suspicious. In general, I don’t like going to a protest without knowing who organized it. It turned out that there were plenty of adults there, parents and teachers, but it’s not the type of thing that I would have liked to go into blind.
Every Wednesday in June local activist groups plan to have more marches. I will go to the next one. Now that I know more, I feel more comfortable.
I rode my bike today. I made it all the way up the big hill, finally, after 4 days of practice.
I read more Zinn. I shot baskets. We brought the groceries in. Dad got me a box fan for my room. Now it’s less stuffy, although we’re in for a cold snap.
Fran and I took a walk in the evening. She and Anna got home around the time that we were finishing dinner.
There are riots breaking out in major cities right now, but undercover cops and white people are inflicting the most damage, and black people are taking the fall. There’s that line of thinking, but there’s also people who argue that this narrative takes away autonomy from black protestors, who see no other recourse than to express their rage and sorrow this way. Maybe both are true. The cops continually reveal their disgusting natures all across the country: firing rubber bullets at nonviolent protesters, shoving, spitting on, and cursing at women, running people over with cars. Jack said we live in a police state, and we just haven’t been aware of it until now. He;s right.
Fran said she didn’t think things have been this bad since the Parkland shooting. I would agree with that, but to me it feels worse. It feels like August 2017 when Charlottesville happened.
More tomorrow.
May 31, 2020: Day 79
About 9:45 in the morning. I woke up so angry this morning. I had to ride my bike around the block, read and scribble in here in order to not hit somebody. I want to hit every white girl in my Instagram feed going about their normal lives.
7:43 PM. I’m less mad now. I talked to my parents but they’re not much help. They’re stuck in the past. We’re not all on the same page. They’re complacent. Facebook fighting or grandstanding won’t change anybody’s mind. What do I do? All I can think of is to keep educating myself, amplify other people’s voices, work on my own emotions, protest, vote, etc...
I don’t know what to do. Something has got to change. Today I planted sunflowers in the duck pen. My cousin Ian came to visit Dad. I read. Mom and I went to her sister’s house. We had hot dogs for dinner. Evening walk. Then ice cream.
Will read some more.
June 2, 2020: Day 81
Didn’t write yesterday because it was a gray, dull day with some spots of sun. I decided to end my digital journal after 90 days because I think we have grown accustomed to the pandemic and it has taken a backseat to police violence right now. The pandemic is no longer the biggest issue. Maybe it will be in October. But it just doesn’t feel right to say: I gardened, rode my bike, took a walk, the end, when people are dying.
I just don’t have the words, which is why I suck as a primary source. At first I was annoyed with myself for just becoming upset with the death of George Floyd when there’s news of the police killing black people every week. And those are only the ones we hear about. Breonna Taylor of Louisville, Kentucky was killed this year, too. Tony McDade from Florida was killed this week, too, and a man named David McAtee was killed at a protest for Breonna Taylor just for being there. He was known to feed the police at his barbecue restaurant and they shot him for no reason. I don’t know how to process each tweet, the flow of information at my fingertips every minute of every day, into neat diary pages. Anyone who uses this will just compare it against other sources to find out what the hell was going on.
I have signed a couple of online petitions. Not enough. Tomorrow we’re going either with Jack and his friend Claire to the Woodstock protest or to the Kingston one. I don;t believe that participating in Instagram challenges or blockchains will create substantive change, and “Black Out Tuesday” is actually suppressing the flow of valuable information.
I need a break, but I’ll be back with a news update later. This season has come to a close. I think it is a good place to stop my pandemic journal.
End of the day. 8 PM. Mom has been in a Zoom PTA meeting for 2 hours now. Pete has been horrible. Now he’s asleep.
A weird day. There’s so much information. I don’t know how a bunch of white college girls reposting the same stuff on their Instagram stories is going to help anything.
Last night we watched on CNN as the president had protestors beaten and tear gassed so that he could hold a Bible and make a speech on the front steps of St. John’s Episcopal Church, where he has never attended. We watched in real time as the chaplain called in and denounced him. It is horrific. The police turned rabid on what was a peaceful crowd. Bill De Blasio stood by this week while his own kids were beaten and arrested. There’s intentional confusion about curfews, and they shut down access to all cabs after 8 PM in New York. These rules target the working class and non-English speakers, who’ll get crippling fines upon arrest.
Police departments are setting up digital dropboxes, where they ask citizens to submit photos and videos of protestors in order to arrest them. In Dallas, KPOP fans from Twitter crashed the dropbox by overloading it with fan-made videos.
Celebrities are getting called out for past and present racism. Lea Michele was exposed as a horrible person and lost a partnership with Hello Fresh. Nobody has donated any real money. It’s telling. Not the Kardashians, not Lady Gaga, nobody. Not Ellen. I don’t understand what they think the issue is. Are they afraid? Lady Gaga moved $90 million for COVID relief in 2 weeks. This is just as much of a human rights crisis.
It physically hurts me to keep violent racists in my social sphere. I’ve been unfollowing and unfriending, but you can’t delete grandparents.
It’s all so complicated. I have a lot of feelings. I almost wish social media served as just a tool, a digital resource, rather than a place to craft a persona. I was thinking of deleting it before this week.
I just want to be a good person. I want to be a part of the change. I know that this is making it all about me, but my conscience is itching me. It won’t let me rest. I don’t know what to do.
That’s all, for the time being. Rode my bike, shot baskets, walked with Fran, played with Pete.
June 3, 2020: Day 82
Am listening to the latest episode of “Keep It!” I have fallen off listening, but I want to hear what Ira, Aida, and Louis have to say. Aida is new and I like her. I liked Kara, too, but she moved on.
We plan on going to the Kingston protest at Academy Green today. Things are starting to turn there. Originally the cops were supposed to be there as part of the peaceful protest, but now the kid who arranged that says that they reneged. I’m seeing rumors of agitation. This is not going to deter me from going. I just need to plan and to be able to make sure that Jack is safe and the twins are safe.
June 4, 2020: Day 83
I feel a lot better after going to the protest. It’s not about my feelings, but one of the speakers said: white people, we don’t need your guilt or your shame. We need your action and focus. That’s how I knew I was in the right place.
We left in Fran’s car to park at a friend’s house at 4:15. We packed Fran’s backpack with snacks and water and wore masks.
What was scary was coming down Sawkill Road past the thruway exit ramp into Kingston and seeing 3 or 4 state trooper vans getting gas and snacks at Quikchek. That made me nervous. I was only worried about being separated from my fifteen-year-old brother and his friends, but he was unconcerned.
On the Rt. 209 overpass on Sawkill Road, there’s a new mural. It says: “Dear Mayor Noble, the world is watching. Which side of history r u on? Police accountability NOW.” I hadn’t seen it until now. It was moving. Noble is liberal, but hesitant to take action, caught between the vocal local activists and the sizable, corrupt KPD.
As we got closer to Academy Green, we saw throngs of white kids with signs moving in the same direction. Kind of like the Fourth of July. We stood at a 180 degree angle from the sword on the Peter Stuyvesant statue. The three statues in the park are Stuyvesant, who “negotiated a peace treaty” with the Esopus on the location of Academy Green in 1660, Governor George Clinton, and Henry Hudson. Clinton is buried a block over in the graveyard of the Old Dutch Church.
As we stood there watching the crowd grow and sending pictures to Mom, I got a NY Times notification that the governor of Virginia promised activists yesterday that they would tear down a statue of Robert E. Lee. That was pretty powerful. I don’t think they’d find enough support to take down the Green statues within the next five years because, with the exception of Peter Stuyvesant, they weren’t overtly racist and violent. We’ll see.
The crowd was massive, packed with people in full violation of distancing rules, but everybody was masked. I don’t think I saw a single unmasked person. Some people wore N-95s.
We listened to speeches. They called for unity and political action. The event was put on by Citizens Action and Rise Up Kingston. We left Academy Green around 6. We were towards the middle of the march. When we knelt for George Floyd in the middle of Broadway for 8 minutes, the front of the group was up by City Hall and the end hadn’t left the park yet- over a mile long.
The march route was twisty because the organizers had a disagreement with City Hall. Last Saturday’s march ended on the steps of City Hall, but my guess is that they were told no this time. 1500 people marched last night, as opposed to 300 on Saturday. There were huge banners: City Hall, we’re watching you, and POLICE ACCOUNTABILITY NOW. The speakers rightly called out the mayor, the DA, and the Chief of Police for their inaction. They were all there in plainclothes, and the newly-elected DA, Dave Clegg, who tries to come across as a (wealthy) Woodstock hippie, was even giving interviews.
We turned onto Cedar Street, then past Pine onto Prospect, then to Henry, Franklin, where we stopped at a church, then back to Wall Street. All the streets of Kingston look the same to me. There was only one cop car on the route and the white people took the outside edge closest to the car. Some white boys started shouting “NYPD suck my dick” but somebody’s mom yelled at them that they were endangering black people, and she was right.
People of all races and ages watched from windows, waved, clapped. Two little boys were handing out candy in front of UPAC. A girl in front of us handed out granola bars. A man on a bicycle offered us water bottles on the way home. It felt right to be there, and felt good to yell and be among people.
We really did not do much today. I read, watered the plants, talked to Mom, signed a petition to ban the use of tear gas on civilians and another one for Breonna Taylor. Brought Dad’s car to the mechanic.
June 7, 2020: Day 86
I had to take a few days off because I had some really intense emotions. Breonna Taylor’s 27th birthday should have been on Friday. I shared petitions for her on all of my platforms. I’ve signed so many that I lose track. Trump is threatening to unleash the army, but Dad says the Secretary of Defense or somebody like that issued a mass email to the whole military saying their duty is to the Constitution, not to the president. His numbers are sinking, sinking, more than ever. He’s been able to do surprisingly minimal campaigning, but then again, he did spend the last 3 years having bullshit rallies for no reason. Some white high schoolers started a rumor about looting the Hudson Valley Mall, so on Friday night both Walmart and Target were closed with police stationed outside. There is literally nothing left to our mall besides Target. I don’t know what those kids could loot that the real-estate developers from Georgia who bought the place last year didn’t already steal.
Rise Up Kingston got Steve Noble’s vote of support on their proposed police legislation yesterday. It’s a good start, and now they just need the City Council to sign it. They “feel confident” that Noble will vote for it, and he’s usually on the side of racial justice, but he’s a flip-flopper. He listens to their equal opportunity housing initiatives, but opens his ears and heart and pockets for out of town developers.
A speaker at the Kingston march said it best: there’s no amount of education or job training that will prevent the pre-existing malice in your heart form coming out. The eradication of hatred has to come first. It’s the literal bare minimum. And we don’t even have that.
We met up with a childhood friend yesterday and he went for a walk with us. He’s a nice boy. Funny. I rode my bike 2 days ago. It’s been too hot. We helped Dad set and repatch the pool. I’ve been reading a lot. It’s a full moon in Sagittarius, a time for rebellion, and a Lunar eclipse. A lot of heavy energy around. Then I think a mercury retrograde on the 11th. The astrology is really lining up this year, even though I’m not supposed to believe in it anymore because I took a class in pseudoscience.
I want to be more open minded and conscious, a better person...
I don’t know what kind of a future we’re going into. That’s okay.
June 8, 2020: Day 87
About 8 PM. Took an early shower. Shaved my legs. I finally mustered up the courage to go hiking today. Fran and I walked 7.5 miles on the rail trail. There weren’t that many people out, but we wore masks to be safe. We walked deep into the woods and sat by the reservoir. When we were out of range of other people, we took our masks off. It felt so good to breathe new air, smell the woods and flowers. I will never take the woods for granted again. It felt so good to go somewhere else for once.
They’re going to dismantle the Minneapolis Police Department. That’s a start. Dad seems to think that lashing out at the cops only makes them more violent, and that this is a justifiable reaction. It just means that they’re bullies in tactical gear. I don’t understand why he’s so buddy- buddy with the cops. Even Bruce Springsteen hates the cops. Yesterday I took a long ride around Woodstock. I “honked for Black Lives” at a protest on the “Green,” which is just a stone median. All three of the town’s cop cars were parked behind the green, approximately ten feet away from their station.
We were supposed to take a walk today, but Fran was too tired and Anna had a friend come over.
June 9, 2020: Day 88
Two days to go! Today is the start of phase 2 reopening in New York: retail stores and previously closed businesses, restaurants with outdoor seating. It was Dad’s last day of his coronavirus schedule. His job switches to their regular summer schedule on Thursday. We are in a weird place between normalcy and crisis, pandemic-wise. Things have cooled down race-wise, but I think that might be just an illusion. We’re in a weird spot now. George Floyd was buried today.
Fran and Anna went to a Chalk for Change event in Kingston today and are talking about going to the BLM protest in Saugerties. I might go, but the rednecks make me nervous. That’s the point, I guess, to face that discomfort. At that one, the police have promised to participate peacefully. We’ll see.
It was too hot to do much today, over 90. The patch is holding on our pool (for now). My lettuce is sprouting. My birthday plant died, so I think I’m going to repot lettuce in its place. I love growing lettuce because it’s so easy and you see immediate results. You can just throw seeds in a pot and see sprouts in a week.
All I did of note today was watch TikToks and check on the gardens. Our bell peppers have blossoms. Oregano is a dud. I weeded a little bit. Sunflower seeds are duds, but the seedlings are tall. The two tomato plants by the fence are not swell. They have not grown at all, whereas the tomato plants in raised buckets, by the house, are so tall. And no sign of life from the carrots, but I have to be patient.
Dad did a lot of work in the yard. He took down the dead Japanese maple tree (rip)/ He pruned the bushes and burned the logs. Our yard has smelled like incense and snowed ash for the last two days. Today the flames leaped higher than Dad’s waist because he kept throwing branches on it. He told me that he and Jeanette are going to split the cost on taking down the maple tree covered in poison ivy in between our yards. Mom had a rough day. One of her students got evicted. Another girl is having severe behavioral issues, but they can’t have a conference. And a jar of mayonnaise exploded when she went to go make macaroni salad. So she busted out a bottle of wine and had Girl Scout cookies at 1:30. I had a glass, but it was white and I don’t like white.
That was all. Our WiFi has been horrible lately. I’m not feeling particularly introspective. I’m just here.
June 10, 2020: Day 89
I’m glad I stuck with this. Sometimes it was hard. I’m worried that it’ll be boring. We’re easing out of quarantine. I want to resume my dog-walking operations soon.
This morning, the washing machine broke on me. Our laundry room flooded. Yikes.
I am attempting to relocate my birthday impatiens to the earth, because when I took it out of the pot, it was root-bound. Maybe this will work.
Another hot, gray day. My horoscope said that today would be a day for dreaming, not for acting. So, here I am.
It’s funny how life is just as much your thinking as it is the things that happen to you. The inside meets the outside. If one’s out of whack, the other will be, too. It took me a long time to learn this. It takes me a long time to learn a lot of things, but somehow I get to where I’m going before I even know it.
I’ve been thinking about patience a lot this week. Last week, I was overcome by urgency, overcome with the need to have immediate change. My garden work and observation have taught me not to throw in the towel so quickly. Root vegetables take a long time to sprout. Growth is gradual and incremental. It’s easier for me to see this in plants than it is for me to see it in myself. I’m too cerebral, too concerned with blazing ahead. It’s antithetical to my Taurean nature.
June 11, 2020; Day 90
It rained this morning for about an hour. Thank God! Our plants needed it. It wasn’t enough, but it was our first rain in 2 weeks. I’ll take what I can get.
Stayed up late and spent the first half of the day reading Edgar Sawtelle. What a novel. Pierced my heart. I’d like to write a good novel like that, that manages emotions like that.
The girls and I hung out with a friend yesterday for 5 hours. I got sunburned. We sat at the old park on the swings, like we used to when we were kids. The air has been thick and humid these past 2 days. It was a scorcher today. We went to the BLM protest in Saugerties. Very powerful speeches. Mom went with us, but she didn’t do so well in the heat.
They had the police on their side and the streets blocked off. Only two hecklers. Whiny white men love to mock women who use their voices. They think it’s funny. They mock protestors by making whiny, high-pitched voices.
Other than that, it was good. I’m not sure if I’d go back to Saugerties because it wasn’t organized as well as Kingston. Nobody accounted for the heat.
That’s all I got. I’m tired.