my cup is half full but his is empty

Remember a long while back when I posted this picture?

Yeah, me neither. That's why I never got around to revealing what it was, or what it was going to grow up to be. It presented itself to me in its entirety about a month ago. And due to early onset Alzheimer's, I forgot to present it here until now:

My friend R likes to call me Freddie Kruger when I happen to wear this sweater. I like to call him jacka$$ when he happens to say that. Can't you feel the lurve?

I did not post these pictures to show you how badly I take photographs, or how pathetically domestic I can be, or how navel-gazing these posts can really be. I think most of you already knew all that. It is the genesis of all of this that came to my mind today. I am not going to get into the details, because it quickly devolves into the maudlin. Sufficed to say, there came a time when I felt a sense of helplessness, profound helplessness. There was nothing that could be done, but I felt like I needed to do something.

I was trained to be an organic chemist. In some ways, I was born to be and always will be an organic chemist. It means I'm ultimately obsessed with making something. The obsession goes deep; it lies not only in the end product, but in the actual act of making, the steps, the process, the getting there. Today, I donated where it was needed. But money feels empty to me. I know that giving should not have such a selfish slant to it; I know that logically. But my senses frazzle at times like this, and the familiar nervous energy surges in me, demanding a task.

The television is some times a panacea for me, what with Tobias in cut-offs, and Jeremy Piven whispering tsetse fly. But in a time of crisis, the television is a weapon of mass depression. Last night, yes, I was struck by the awful devastation of the hurricane. But I was also equally gripped with sorrow at a sudden realization. These words, race and poverty, get bandied about all the time as linchpin to political arguments. The manifestation of those words was plain last night, however. Some of these people were suffering, but were long-suffering. Some of these people were impoverished before the hurricane swept away the last of their belongings. Some of these people needed our help years ago, and we didn't see it. We must have been blind.