Both of my brothers are in town, the older one and the younger one (yes, I am the classic troubled middle child, exacerbated by being the only girl.) My older brother is by way of being a Nola refugee, as is detailed elswhere in this foolish blog. Except, of course, that he refugeed himself a good two weeks before the hurricane. My younger brother lives in Brooklyn and showed up at the Greenville/Spartanburg airport this morning without much warning. He's going to stay 10 days which is much longer than he usually stays. We went out drinking as is our wont when siblings are gathered together and since all of us are semi paranoid, semi bipolar and semi a lot of complicated psychiatrical type shit, many odd things were said. I think my brain exploded. I think that I can't think much more about conspiracies and what happened when, and why, and who knows who. I also think I really don't fucking care.
Meanwhile, the Red Cross is checking my references, and maybe they're going to send me down there after all. Now I'm not sure I can go - I have my younger brother here in my house, and I don't often get to see him, so I'm more ambivalent than I was.
Looking back at that last post I'm sorry that I put in the little class rant. I'm not going to take it out, but I'm sorry. She was out there trying to help and volunteer, and that's a good and brave thing, and I had no right to get all snifty because she was rich, or rich-ish, and mascara-ed. Chalk it up to jealousy. I'm also hoping that the reason I felt surrounded by disorganized & not together people is that they had already sent the competent & together people to the Gulf. I really hope that that is true.
Also, damn it, where I am in Buffy? She should so totally tell her friends that she's fucking Spike? I mean, my god, it's better to let the secrets out.