I said that I wanted to do a fundraiser or something -- something more substantial than look in my bank account and say "hey, I have some money to spare, so I will."
The other day in email discussions, Amy had suggested the King Hooper mansion in Marblehead as a location. Someone on the BN dot net discussion board had the idea of doing a wine tasting as a fundraiser (thank you, if you're reading, DaWezl). That would be classy and nice. But I'd need to know someone who is a wine expert, and my guess is that Steven Page from Barenaked Ladies would not be available to come and oversee the event as the special expert guest. I don't know a qualified sommelier who would be willing to bring their talents to the table.
MB and C both started throwing out suggestions. MB said that Hooper and wine would be way classy but it wouldn't bring in "the crowd" that loves to go to crap like this in Marblehead. She suggested getting more townie than fancy. She said the Gerry 5 VFA in Marblehead, and said it costs next to nothing to rent it. And it is big. She knows some guys in a local band who are into doing stuff like this. This person can build baskets, and we can get gift certificates from this place and that place, and we can do raffles for this and that. And we can... and we can...
Next thing you know we've got ideas and are planning a plan. The planniest plan that ever was planned. We're a committee. We're a fundraiser planning committee. Holy crap we're a planning committee!!!!!
My head started spinning. A clear sign that it is about to explode. The girls were forwarding an email I had written to everyone I know to everyone THEY know.
And the thing that started to almost make me cry, is that MB and C haven't ever met Keri. They don't know her. They just saw the picture of the girls and read an article I gave them in the Boston Globe. And they're there getting fired up with me.
Amy also had sent out an email to all her friends telling them about Keri and pointing them to my journal entry. And people on her recipient list sent money into the fund.
You guys. Not only do I have the coolest co-workers ever, I have the coolest FRIENDS and extended network of friends, between Amy's mail and MB and C -- there are people out there now reading and learning and we'll reach a bunch and make it so.
And it almost brings me to tears. I can't imagine what it would do to Keri. Or Anya. Or Nastia.
You guys. There's a little girl who is 15 who needs to be adopted by summer's end. She's got a window of extension based on the fact that Keri already has adopted her sister, and has until she is 18 to get her adopted and out of Siberia. But. Keri's goal is to have her adopted and home by the end of summer 2007 because she no longer can live in the orphanage after she turns 16.
Pondering these things. My daughter will be 15 in June. Can you imagine putting her out on the street and saying "okay! good luck to you!" at age 16 next year?
No. Holy crap no. Anya deserves better. Especially seeing that there is already someone waiting and working on making it happen.
In case you need further information on whether or not this is a true story, check here:
I am so effing fired up right now. And I know this kind of righteous anger sometimes can fizzle into disappointment and regret -- things don't always work out, things fall apart. The proverbial and metaphorical bed does get shat upon... but damn. I'm gonna try. I'm not going to let my inner pessimist do nothing and sit back and say "well, it was bound to fail anyway."
Hells no. And I've got a posse. Actually, we're Anya's Posse. Saddle up and represent, bitches.
Join Anya's Posse and let's ride.