I'm still crashed at Gwen's house in DC after doing the March for Women's Lives this weekend. Alissa and I are sharing Debbie's Amazing Comfortable Bed before heading back up north tomorrow.
Participating in the march was really incredible, honestly. I had no idea *that* many people were actually going to come out for it. I figured that your run-of-the-mill scary-dead-baby-poster toting activists would be out and about, (although it's one thing to photograph them yelling at people I silently agree with, it's another having them yell at you and pray emphatically in your general direction.)
There have been all kinds of public acts of bravery this weekend- medical students carrying signs identifying themselves as future abortion providers, walking past a prayer vigil of people who just minutes ago were holding signs that said, "God hates you," standing up for beliefs, going on call-backs to understudy M@ry Stu@rt M@sterson, fastening one's heart onto one's sleeve and trying to kill one incredibly large (practically Jeff Goldblum circa 1978-sized) fly.
I have to say, though, I am continually amazed and honored by my friends. Last week, I was pushed to the edge of exhaustoin, unfocused and nervous and bitter and frayed. I'm putting myself on the line in a lot of ways at work, and I've been too close to the situation to realize that I'm, shall we say, too involved with the candidate selection process.
Getting the distance has been good. Tomorrow I'm going back, and I'm going to be brave.