The Good, the Bad, and the Blue

Melanie Pullen, Blue (Water Series)

The Good:

My birthday is coming up. My boyfriend is coming down. And I was invited to Amsterdam. I haven't been to Europe since I was underaged.

The Bad:

Despite our best efforts, my boyfriend's son has decided to go through with his enlistment. Even though he is Native American, Mexican, Arabic and Columbian. Even though it looks like the Marines are coming back with more injuries than anyone else in the Armed Forces. Even though I am pretty sure he knows that the war in Iraq (and soon to be Iran) is not only a losing one, but quite questionable morally. And even though we offered him a place to stay and about a bizillion alternatives.

It's hard to imagine what he might be thinking...but then again, it's not hard at all. I know, having lived on the Rez for the past number of years, that he probably took one look around and saw how little opportunities there were available to him. I know that he thinks it will save him from the Meth addiction that runs so rampant in that community. I know that he desperately wants to become a man: in the eyes of his family, his girlfriend, the greater culture. I know that it became important to him not to drop out of his enlistment, like he dropped out of going to college. But it breaks my heart even to understand it a little. I mean, he only graduated from high school a few months ago.

Welcome to America.

The Blue:

I don't know what more to say here. I think I've covered the blue already. I remain optimistic about the year–after all, I finished a film, I fell in love, I found a dog. But, for the people around me it hasn't been that kind of a break out year. A friend, father and husband killed himself. My film partner is separating from her husband after 20 years. Same film partner's brother is dying from a long history of drug addiction despite the short span (36 years) of his life.

I wish I had more to offer today. Something funny or at least mildly amusing. But I guess none of it is really good nor bad. And it doesn't always make me blue.

It's just life.

And I carry it with me. Just like my boyfriend's son. Just like you.