Transition Day

Felt human yesterday for the first time in quite a while. After a fairly nondescript workday I decided I had enough in me to attend the Westword Music Awards Nominating Party downtown, basically an informal gathering of every-damn-body in town who thinks they are in the music scene – venue people, band members, a few fans, a few radio types, you name it. Basically, the local alt newspaper hands out ballots to everyone who wants one, and each person votes for five of their favorite local acts in each category. The top vote-getters get nominated for the actual reader vote later this summer.

My reason for attending was pretty simple – most of the people there know who I am, and I’d venture to guess that a lot of people fill out the blanks on their ballots by looking around the room for ideas. Hopefully a few people who couldn’t think of a band one they got their favorites on the list wrote my band down as I walked by and said hello. Who knows.

It was also good to see a lot of people I haven’t seen in a while, and to actually get out of the house. Yay.

Tomorrow is day one of actual volunteer workers at the house site – the lumber is in place, and I’m sure they’ll spend the two-day work week framing the rimboard and placing the floorjoists.

We got into the Habitat For Humanity program somewhat by accident roughly a year ago, and we’re on track for the keys to our own home around mid-August. It’s safe to say that I never really dreamed that I’d ever get to own a home – I’ve been a perpetual renter all my life, and, with practically no credit to speak of, the lengths I would have had to go to get into the good graces of a conventional lender are somewhat inconceivable. Sometimes creating your own luck is the best you can do, and this would be one of those instances.

It’s natural to feel a little unworthy – I’m not one to seek charity, nor are most people I would think – but the fact is that I feel blessed that we have this opportunity to build a home for the girls, a place they can grow up in and call their own. I lived in rental houses from age 10 – on, and I just have to close my eyes and smile about it. Everyone should have this chance, and this feeling. It’s indicative of our screwed-up world that most people don’t.

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