A Moment of Hope ... and Fear

Barack Obama is projected to win the Iowa Caucus. And listening to him speak, I am struck again with the belief - the hope - that He Is My President.

I do believe in an America of Ideals. An America of Principles ahead of Practicality. OF HOPE.

But I'm scared. The last few elections have been so close. We lost to Bush even though we didn't actually lose to Bush.

Can this country elect a black man? Will this country elect a black man?

I don't know the answer to that question.

I know what I want to believe, tonight, with tears streaming down my face.

And, I know that tomorrow, I will seek out ways to campaign for this man.

And, Huckabee? Screw you!

Navel Gazage

Already 2008 has been an eventful year.

But today, I won't post about the seriously almost getting seriously lost in the woods, with night seriously approaching.

I won't post about the amazing Shakti experience I had last night and again today at yoga.

I won't post about almost hydroplaning and coming within inches of a guardrail.

I'll instead post this. I am the kind of nerd that asks for books of poetry for Christmas. And this year I got a compilation of poems by Billy Collins, former Poet Laureate and oft heard on Prairie Home Companion. And this piece makes me very, very happy. Without further ado:

On Not Finding You at Home

Usually you appear at the front door
when you hear my steps on the gravel,
but today the door was closed,
not a wisp of pale smoke from the chimney.

I peered into a window
but there was nothing but a table with a comb,
some yellow flowers in a glass of water
and dark shadows in the corners of the room.

I stood for a while under the big tree
and listened to the wind and the birds,
your wind and your birds,
you dark green woods beyond the clearing.

This is not what it is like to be you.
I realised as a few of your magnificent clouds
flew over the rooftop.
It is just me thinking about being you.

And before I headed back down the hill,
I walked in a circle around your house,
making an invisible line
which you would have to cross before dark.

On 2008 As It Approaches

I went for a walk on the beach last night. I love walking along the ocean at night. Everything blends together, merges into a single, united entity, ocean, sky, sand. It makes me feel like I am the last human being on earth.

It was a really nice way to kick off the New Year's celebration, which to me always feels like a non-event. For the past who knows how many years, I've "celebrated" alone. Me, my kitties, a bottle of champagne and the amazing Spinach Artichoke Dip. It sounds sad and pathetic, but really, it's not.

I like to use the night to think about the past year and what I would like for the year ahead. Not that it makes any difference. So many things happen and there's just no controlling it. Last year, would I have ever believed that I would be moving again, living on the ocean, working at an ad agency, alone again against the world? Not on your life. And some of these things I didn't even know I wanted, but am so glad about. And some, well, not so much.

Life has an almost insane way of winding you up, spinning you out, and sitting back and laughing as you teeter off into your new direction.

But that's what makes it all so much fun.

I have no idea what 2008 will hold. I would really like to be 33 and Debt Free. I would really like to get certified again to teach exercise classes. I might even be inspired by Crazy Aunt Purl and take up knitting.

I look back on 2007 and the only thing I know for sure about it is, I learned a whole heckuva lot about myself. So, here's to another successful year.

When Good Flirting Goes Bad

Well, I survived Christmas. And while it wasn't the jolliest of holidays for me, it wasn't all that bad either. The Nutcracker was a highpoint with what might have been the most unbelievably gorgeous Waltz of the Flowers ever. I had tears running down my cheeks the entire time. I gave a good bounty, got a good bounty, and the four days were survived with a minimum of drama. All in all, a successful time.

Upon returning to life in the real world, well, it's a little of this and a little of that. Superficially, all should be really really well. I have a great house, a great job, fabulous bosses, amazing kitties, and I'm really progressing with my yoga. But I'm still kinda down in the dumps.

One thing that massively helped with the blues: dinner and drinks with Keebs.

Keebs is a friend from a long time ago. I don't see her nearly enough. Sure, we talk enough on IM and through texting, but it's not the same.

Tonight, we hang out. She gave me bling, I gave her bling. The bling she gave me was way better - I feel massively guilty.

We had such a great time. I know that there is a common reaction to girls who are extra loud at a bar. But we were seriously, legitimately laughing out loud. C'mon -- we're two girls in advertising and there was a cute bartender and a bottle of DiSaronno. Do you NOT see the funny in that?

Still, I guess we were a little too loud. Because at one point, I tried to engage Le Cute Bartender. To decidedly no avail. And given that we'd just left him a $10 tip on a $30 tab, that was a little wierd. And, yea, it bugged me out.

I should be the kind of person that knows that hanging with a good friend and sharing very real belly laughs with her should be enough. I should be the kind of person that doesn't care about a random, stranger bartender's reaction to my existence.

So why was I so ticked off?

I guess, because I'm only human. And I'm only female.

Drat.

Merry KwanzYulAnaka

Tis the season to be jolly. And to get caught up in commercialism. And other isms. Especially (if you're a Blowhard O'Reilly fan) getting caught up in hating secularism. There's been a lot of loaded rhetoric regarding religion swirling around my life lately. I'm not sure what to make of it, but here's some examples:

I'm still reading Lamb. And still loving it.

There was a story on NPR about a woman who prefers to sing Eagles tunes in the public park instead of caroling.

There was the bru-ha-ha about the Connecticut Valley Atheists and their poster.

There's the omnipresent "Mother Who Has God on Speed Dial" issues.

And then there's my friend at work who's having MIL issues b/c she is convinced if he and his wife don't raise their sons Christian, they're evil.

I'm not sure why there's so many people out there offended at this time of year because they're religion isn't accepted/adopted/respected by people of other (or no) religion. Just because it's a holy day to you, doesn't mean that everyone has to suddently "see the light."

It's especially apparent to me this year because I am completely unable to get into the "holiday spirit." Despite all my best intentions - and efforts - I'm pretty darn depressed. Christmas just doesn't seem to mean as much when you don't have someone(s) special to share it with. And although I have such wonderful, caring, supportive friends and family, let's face it. I live in a new town and work in a new job and don't have a whole lot of day-to-day meaningful interactions with people I can physically see.

But I what isn't surprising is how buying lots of trinkets and toys isn't doing anything to lift my spirits. Somehow I'm having a hard time worrying about buying my mother another DVD when there are lots of families in town far worse off than I (hopefully) will ever be.

I think this post on a message board says it pretty well:

Maybe it's not Atheists who are perpetrating the "War on Christmas," Maybe it's Hallmark and Wal Mart and Best Buy who pump all those snowy, cheery, fun-filled ads for gift ideas into their heads, all before their overindulgent sugar-high wears off from trick-or-treating. And in case you haven't noticed, they're all using "Holidays" in their commercials because they have a panel of public relations experts who realize that there are a lot of people who don't get down with Jesus that spend a lot of money in December.

Even if you think Jesus is the Reason for the Season, the original reason for the season - in whichever religion you belong to - was to celebrate the return of the light. And to help bring the light into all aspects of our lives and others. And not to, say, go shopping.