My hair is getting to the point where it is difficult to manage. It is almost to my waist and that is long enough. My cousin’s hair is to her knees! I cannot imagine having to take care of hair that long. I would constantly worry if my hair was going somewhere it should not…for example, in the toilet or in my food or hanging out in the next room and picking fights with lesser hair.
My hair is thick and has a little wave in it (thanks, Dad); therefore, when my hair gets long, it does not fall straight and silky down my back. Nope, it twists and turns whichever way it wants at the moment, not taking into consideration that some of its neighbors are going in a completely different direction. It looks quasi-bushy because of all the fly-aways (as if I were a repository for static electricity…not quite as bad as the Bride of Frankenstein, but you get the idea). And it does not matter how often I brush my hair, it looks the same…messy.
Once, a stylist flat-ironed my hair after cutting it. I am sure it was because she saw how unwieldy it was when it was long. While my newly perfectly straight hair felt great, (silky soft as I easily ran my fingers through it, as opposed to getting my fingers stuck in snarls every few inches); unfortunately, it was not a good look for me. I looked like Professor Snape from the Harry Potter movies. I remember the stylist asking the requisite question, “Well, how do you like it?” I believe I smiled and made all the right noises, then as I walked back to my car, I began frantically shaking my hair out…desperately trying to create some kind of body so my hair would not look like it was crazy glued to my scalp.
Anyway, I know it is time to cut my hair for three main reasons: it is getting noticeably heavy; I am frequently slamming it in the car door and other inconvenient places (like while capping my highlighter!); and it is becoming more difficult to sling my bag over my shoulder, because my hair gets awkwardly stuck. Plus (okay, four reasons), when it sheds (as it is wont to do) it seems like there is a huge amount of hair in the tub, on the carpet, etc., simply due to its length. Kinda yucky, even for someone with as high a tolerance for messiness as I possess.
Of course, when I actually cut my hair I will miss it. Not the messiness or the heaviness or the way it would get stuck in things and yank and hurt; but rather, the protection it gave (for blouses with food drips on them), the ease of putting it up in a twist (once it’s shoulder length it will be too short to put up with a chopstick), and the security it provided (like a blanket, but less obvious).
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Mourning Days
The past few days I was in mourning. Kind of.
Let me explain. Earlier in the week, a friend sent me an e-mail asking how I was coping due to recent events. Confused much? Absolutely! I quickly shot back an e-mail with one word: “Huh?” He replied: “Didn’t know? Haven’t you seen the newspaper or read your tennis magazine? mc got married.”
“Wha-a-a-a?” Dah-duh-dum…and there it was. The death knell on nearly two decades of on-again-off-again crushing. Michael Chang is married. And it’s not to me.
I had to pause to let the reality sink in, then I googled it. Sure enough…married. To someone with Hawaii roots! Seriously?!
(For more of my past feelings for Michael Chang, see my post dated, July 29, 2008, infra.)
The next two days I wore predominantly black dress in keeping with my mourning…the death of what could have been. As I spoke with friends that weekend, it seems a great many people knew about the wedding and did not tell me. They either assumed I knew or did not want to be the bearer of bad news.
I read a few of the articles about Michael tying the knot and I discovered I never stood a chance. First of all, he (and his mother!) were looking exclusively for a Chinese girl. My response: diversify and strengthen the gene pool! Add some Japanese into the mix. It could only be good for the families. Could I convince him to abandon this “qualification” in a bride? I guess we’ll never know.
Also, the woman he married is quite young. About 9 years younger than him. I think maturity has a lot to recommend it. I am definitely more grounded, more insightful and a tiny bit more patient than I was when I was in my twenties.
I was bemoaning the unfairness of it all to a friend while we were in the movie theatre watching previews for upcoming television shows. One preview came on for a new show called “Castle” starring Nathan Fillion. He was great in the movie “Waitress” as well as the cumbersomely named sitcom “Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Parlor.” But I loved him as Captain Malcolm Reynolds in “Firefly.” (See previous entry dated: June 29, 2007, infra.)
In mid-whine, I said, “Wow, he is still hot!”
My friend (quick to follow my tangent) commented, “It looks like he’s gained some weight. His face looks fuller.”
I replied, “Yeah, I like it!”
And thus, the mourning period was over.
So congratulations and best wishes to Michael Chang and his young Chinese bride. May you both have many years of happiness and prosperity.
And Nathan, if you’re reading this…I’m available.
Let me explain. Earlier in the week, a friend sent me an e-mail asking how I was coping due to recent events. Confused much? Absolutely! I quickly shot back an e-mail with one word: “Huh?” He replied: “Didn’t know? Haven’t you seen the newspaper or read your tennis magazine? mc got married.”
“Wha-a-a-a?” Dah-duh-dum…and there it was. The death knell on nearly two decades of on-again-off-again crushing. Michael Chang is married. And it’s not to me.
I had to pause to let the reality sink in, then I googled it. Sure enough…married. To someone with Hawaii roots! Seriously?!
(For more of my past feelings for Michael Chang, see my post dated, July 29, 2008, infra.)
The next two days I wore predominantly black dress in keeping with my mourning…the death of what could have been. As I spoke with friends that weekend, it seems a great many people knew about the wedding and did not tell me. They either assumed I knew or did not want to be the bearer of bad news.
I read a few of the articles about Michael tying the knot and I discovered I never stood a chance. First of all, he (and his mother!) were looking exclusively for a Chinese girl. My response: diversify and strengthen the gene pool! Add some Japanese into the mix. It could only be good for the families. Could I convince him to abandon this “qualification” in a bride? I guess we’ll never know.
Also, the woman he married is quite young. About 9 years younger than him. I think maturity has a lot to recommend it. I am definitely more grounded, more insightful and a tiny bit more patient than I was when I was in my twenties.
I was bemoaning the unfairness of it all to a friend while we were in the movie theatre watching previews for upcoming television shows. One preview came on for a new show called “Castle” starring Nathan Fillion. He was great in the movie “Waitress” as well as the cumbersomely named sitcom “Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Parlor.” But I loved him as Captain Malcolm Reynolds in “Firefly.” (See previous entry dated: June 29, 2007, infra.)
In mid-whine, I said, “Wow, he is still hot!”
My friend (quick to follow my tangent) commented, “It looks like he’s gained some weight. His face looks fuller.”
I replied, “Yeah, I like it!”
And thus, the mourning period was over.
So congratulations and best wishes to Michael Chang and his young Chinese bride. May you both have many years of happiness and prosperity.
And Nathan, if you’re reading this…I’m available.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
40 Year Old Christmas Tree
I finally did it. I took my Christmas tree down to the curb.
Now, this is a major accomplishment. I convinced myself (rather easily) that keeping my Christmas tree up past Christmas was whimsical as well as practical. I mean, it still smelled good…why shouldn’t I enjoy it past December 25? But it became more and more difficult to convince myself that keeping the tree up past January 25 was more whimsical than pathetic and downright lazy. So, on January 23, in the dead of night (so my fellow apartment dwellers wouldn’t see), I unscrewed my tree from its stand, awkwardly wrapped it up in an old bed sheet and winded and wielded my way down the hall, down the elevator, through the lobby, across the parking structure, then out to the curb.
Despite my efforts, those dry needles were everywhere. They provided a trail (better than breadcrumbs) of my midnight antics...right to my front door. I used the sheet in the lobby to “sweep” out as many needles as possible; however, I couldn’t run my vacuum at midnight. That would get my neighbors even more upset. Unfortunately, I had to leave home early the next day and was busy all day, so proof of my laziness languished there, mocking me of my laziness for at least 24-hours. Finally, on the following day I hauled out my vacuum and vacuumed the hallway and waiting area in front of the elevators as best as I could. I had to call the elevator three times in order to get the one I had used that night to come to my floor (we have two elevators in my building), so I could take a couple swipes inside with my vacuum.
If one cared to look carefully, one would find needles here and there. A prickly cluster in the corner of my kitchen, a bent one in my front doorjamb, and along the building hallway some crispy brown needles stick out irreverently where the wall meets the carpet. A reminder of my strength of procrastination…er, whimsy.
Well, the New Year is well underway and I feel like time is beginning to fly. I mean, seriously, can it be February already? While the days and weeks seem to inch along, why is it when I look at the calendar, I am so surprised to see the month of January is already gone? Perhaps one reason is because I turn 40 this year. Yikes. It’s such a mile-stone type of year. Forty is supposed to mean stability and accomplishment and strength in sense of self. Well, at least that’s what Oprah said. Or was it Hallmark? I forget. In any case, there is meaning in attaining your 40th year.
When did I start to get old? Last week, someone wanted to pass me on the sidewalk and he said, “excuse me, ma’am.” Ugh. In the last few years I have noticed that the number of salespeople and wait staff have been calling me “ma’am” have steadily increased. I have caught myself using terms such as, “…kids nowadays…” and “back in the day…” My oh my. I am thinking old as well as getting physically older. Bleh.
This is difficult to wrap my mind around, because I have always been the youngest. I am the youngest sibling in my family, by far (the next sibling is 11 years older). When I would hang out with them or their friends, I was always the youngest. I am born in October, so even amongst my schoolmates; I was one of the younger ones. One of the last to get my driver’s license or go to a “real” bar. Even in work, (except for my previous job) I have always been one of the younger staff. Currently, I am the youngest in my office of 5 people).
It is even worse to think of it as mid-life. For some reason, “forty” sounds better than “mid-life,” probably because mid-life intimates that you are in the second half of your life. The sun is no longer rising in your life; it is setting.
Age may just be a number, but numbers do hold some significance. I do not like to think of myself as almost 40, because “almost 40” sounds old. I do not think of myself as old. If anything, I very much have a child-like spirit. My inner child gets free reign, probably too much of the time. I guess I face 40 with some trepidation because of social convention. I will act as I normally do and people will say, “oh my gosh, isn’t she 40?” which would be fine if they said it in an admiring, amazed way rather than in a scandalized, she’s-old-enough-to-know-better kind of way. Oh well, I guess time shall tell…
Now, this is a major accomplishment. I convinced myself (rather easily) that keeping my Christmas tree up past Christmas was whimsical as well as practical. I mean, it still smelled good…why shouldn’t I enjoy it past December 25? But it became more and more difficult to convince myself that keeping the tree up past January 25 was more whimsical than pathetic and downright lazy. So, on January 23, in the dead of night (so my fellow apartment dwellers wouldn’t see), I unscrewed my tree from its stand, awkwardly wrapped it up in an old bed sheet and winded and wielded my way down the hall, down the elevator, through the lobby, across the parking structure, then out to the curb.
Despite my efforts, those dry needles were everywhere. They provided a trail (better than breadcrumbs) of my midnight antics...right to my front door. I used the sheet in the lobby to “sweep” out as many needles as possible; however, I couldn’t run my vacuum at midnight. That would get my neighbors even more upset. Unfortunately, I had to leave home early the next day and was busy all day, so proof of my laziness languished there, mocking me of my laziness for at least 24-hours. Finally, on the following day I hauled out my vacuum and vacuumed the hallway and waiting area in front of the elevators as best as I could. I had to call the elevator three times in order to get the one I had used that night to come to my floor (we have two elevators in my building), so I could take a couple swipes inside with my vacuum.
If one cared to look carefully, one would find needles here and there. A prickly cluster in the corner of my kitchen, a bent one in my front doorjamb, and along the building hallway some crispy brown needles stick out irreverently where the wall meets the carpet. A reminder of my strength of procrastination…er, whimsy.
Well, the New Year is well underway and I feel like time is beginning to fly. I mean, seriously, can it be February already? While the days and weeks seem to inch along, why is it when I look at the calendar, I am so surprised to see the month of January is already gone? Perhaps one reason is because I turn 40 this year. Yikes. It’s such a mile-stone type of year. Forty is supposed to mean stability and accomplishment and strength in sense of self. Well, at least that’s what Oprah said. Or was it Hallmark? I forget. In any case, there is meaning in attaining your 40th year.
When did I start to get old? Last week, someone wanted to pass me on the sidewalk and he said, “excuse me, ma’am.” Ugh. In the last few years I have noticed that the number of salespeople and wait staff have been calling me “ma’am” have steadily increased. I have caught myself using terms such as, “…kids nowadays…” and “back in the day…” My oh my. I am thinking old as well as getting physically older. Bleh.
This is difficult to wrap my mind around, because I have always been the youngest. I am the youngest sibling in my family, by far (the next sibling is 11 years older). When I would hang out with them or their friends, I was always the youngest. I am born in October, so even amongst my schoolmates; I was one of the younger ones. One of the last to get my driver’s license or go to a “real” bar. Even in work, (except for my previous job) I have always been one of the younger staff. Currently, I am the youngest in my office of 5 people).
It is even worse to think of it as mid-life. For some reason, “forty” sounds better than “mid-life,” probably because mid-life intimates that you are in the second half of your life. The sun is no longer rising in your life; it is setting.
Age may just be a number, but numbers do hold some significance. I do not like to think of myself as almost 40, because “almost 40” sounds old. I do not think of myself as old. If anything, I very much have a child-like spirit. My inner child gets free reign, probably too much of the time. I guess I face 40 with some trepidation because of social convention. I will act as I normally do and people will say, “oh my gosh, isn’t she 40?” which would be fine if they said it in an admiring, amazed way rather than in a scandalized, she’s-old-enough-to-know-better kind of way. Oh well, I guess time shall tell…
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Christmas Song Rant
Well, Christmas has come and gone and it was pretty terrific.
As for shopping, I took one day to reconnaissance and get ideas and then 3 days of actual shopping and *poof* I was done! Well, not exactly, "poof," as my feet ached and my leg muscles tightened so I hobbled more than walked, but still, overall...good.
In the last post, I mentioned Christmas songs I wish they would play more frequently on the radio. This got me thinking of Christmas songs I wish they would take out of rotation...at least for a little while.
Feliz Navidad. No offense to my Spanish-speaking peeps, but ugh. What is it about this song that starts rubbing my nerves raw after the first chorus? The radio stations play this song way too much.
Do They Know It's Christmastime? Or whatever the title of this well-intentioned, but obnoxious song is. Something about the third or fourth time you hear it...it begins to sound self-indulgent and a tiny bit condescending...benevolent, but in a nauseating way. Ha! Sounds like a way to describe a wine. "It had an arrogant nose and no legs."
Santa, Baby. Call me old fashioned, but I do not think Christmas carols or any song about Santa should sound like or allude to sex. Don't get me wrong...in the right context it's fine (e.g., Fever...love that song). And I know she's not singing about the real Santa, as in the one who lives in the North Pole and has a penchant for cookies, but still...it kinda grosses me out.
That Christmas Shoes Song. They even made a tv movie out of it. Talk about emotional manipulation. "Please pull my strings, Puppetmaster!" Bleh. The fact that they use a little kid to sing part of it makes it even worse somehow. Adds to the manipulation factor, methinks. It's so blatant it should be funny; however, I just find it annoying (insert nose wrinkle here).
The Little Drummer Boy. This song is usually sung waaaayyyy too slow and something about the Pa-rup-a-pum-pum part makes my eyes start to roll to the back of my head. I can't control it. Weird, since this is one song in which I would do the "ding, ding" parts on the piano while my sister played the song (we didn't have a triangle). Somehow even the "ding, ding" has lost its luster.
One last general pet peeve...with all the remakes of Christmas classics, does every vocalist need to insert so many unnecessary runs in the song? Beyond the show-offy-ness of it all, it truly is an unwelcome distraction. Part of the joy and allure of Christmas Carols is that you can sing along. Who has fun singing along when the singer starts singing in different octives? Ugh.
Some may think I'd add the Chipmunk Song here, but I actually like it and still think it's cute. I also haven't reached my saturation point for "Merry Christmas, Darling" although some years the radio stations really push that one to the edge. Then, there are songs like "O Holy Night," "Ring Christmas Bells," "The Christmas Song" and "Do You Hear What I Hear?" that I can listen to repeatedly by different artists.
This started out as a nice post-Christmas post and ended up being a rant of sorts. Hmm...doesn't seem to bode well for the New Year!
As for shopping, I took one day to reconnaissance and get ideas and then 3 days of actual shopping and *poof* I was done! Well, not exactly, "poof," as my feet ached and my leg muscles tightened so I hobbled more than walked, but still, overall...good.
In the last post, I mentioned Christmas songs I wish they would play more frequently on the radio. This got me thinking of Christmas songs I wish they would take out of rotation...at least for a little while.
Feliz Navidad. No offense to my Spanish-speaking peeps, but ugh. What is it about this song that starts rubbing my nerves raw after the first chorus? The radio stations play this song way too much.
Do They Know It's Christmastime? Or whatever the title of this well-intentioned, but obnoxious song is. Something about the third or fourth time you hear it...it begins to sound self-indulgent and a tiny bit condescending...benevolent, but in a nauseating way. Ha! Sounds like a way to describe a wine. "It had an arrogant nose and no legs."
Santa, Baby. Call me old fashioned, but I do not think Christmas carols or any song about Santa should sound like or allude to sex. Don't get me wrong...in the right context it's fine (e.g., Fever...love that song). And I know she's not singing about the real Santa, as in the one who lives in the North Pole and has a penchant for cookies, but still...it kinda grosses me out.
That Christmas Shoes Song. They even made a tv movie out of it. Talk about emotional manipulation. "Please pull my strings, Puppetmaster!" Bleh. The fact that they use a little kid to sing part of it makes it even worse somehow. Adds to the manipulation factor, methinks. It's so blatant it should be funny; however, I just find it annoying (insert nose wrinkle here).
The Little Drummer Boy. This song is usually sung waaaayyyy too slow and something about the Pa-rup-a-pum-pum part makes my eyes start to roll to the back of my head. I can't control it. Weird, since this is one song in which I would do the "ding, ding" parts on the piano while my sister played the song (we didn't have a triangle). Somehow even the "ding, ding" has lost its luster.
One last general pet peeve...with all the remakes of Christmas classics, does every vocalist need to insert so many unnecessary runs in the song? Beyond the show-offy-ness of it all, it truly is an unwelcome distraction. Part of the joy and allure of Christmas Carols is that you can sing along. Who has fun singing along when the singer starts singing in different octives? Ugh.
Some may think I'd add the Chipmunk Song here, but I actually like it and still think it's cute. I also haven't reached my saturation point for "Merry Christmas, Darling" although some years the radio stations really push that one to the edge. Then, there are songs like "O Holy Night," "Ring Christmas Bells," "The Christmas Song" and "Do You Hear What I Hear?" that I can listen to repeatedly by different artists.
This started out as a nice post-Christmas post and ended up being a rant of sorts. Hmm...doesn't seem to bode well for the New Year!
Friday, December 12, 2008
Ready or Not...
After reading my previous entry, I am struck by how maudlin and self-indulgent it sounds. I felt somewhat embarrassed by it, but then I thought, where better to be maudlin and self-indulgent than in my own on-line journal? Better to write it down and get it “out of my system” than to subject friends, co-workers, family and others unlucky enough to be in my vicinity to all of that. The less-than-generous are piping up, saying “it’s too late!” Hmph.
Oh well…
I have not written in awhile because I have not felt compelled to do so. No impetus. No desire. But, one of the purposes of me doing an on-line journal was to force me write. There are actually a lot of things I would like to write about: my experiences working at a poll station for the primary and general elections, about some things I’ve been reading and watching about sustainability, about some of the awesome live performances I’ve attended lately…the list goes on.
So, why haven’t I written?
Lazy. Tired. Unmotivated. I feel a bit like I’m in neutral, just coasting along allowing gravity to work its will on me. And this is not a way I want to feel going into Christmas. This is supposed to be a magical time. Not magical as in abracadabra or mysticism, but magical as in having a sense of wonder and feeling a deep abiding joy and peace to celebrate the Savior’s earthly birth. Not the commercial hype of gift-buying, but the fun in gift-choosing and gift-giving.
I have begun with the outer trappings hoping it will trigger inner motivation. My Christmas tree is in its stand waiting to be decorated and smelling wonderful. I put a Christmas carol CD in my bedside clock radio. I have not gone to the mall to shop yet, but that might be counterproductive right now. Now, I would be grouchy looking for parking, impatient waiting in line, and getting outraged at other people’s rudeness, etc. I’m trying to get to the point where looking for parking is no big deal, because I can finish singing the Christmas carol on the radio as I drive around. When waiting in line gives me the opportunity to talk to others in line with me or contemplate how lucky I am that I can afford to purchase gifts. When I do not even notice that other people are being rude.
Yeah, I’m not there yet.
But I will be. Hope springs eternal, I guess.
I hope the beginning stirrings are occurring. I get teary eyed listening to some carols on the radio. Especially “Mary Did You Know?” I am totally digging that song right now. It speaks to me. There’s also a “Joy to the World” song that I love but have not heard yet this Christmas season. It’s a little boy singing and the chorus goes something like:
Joy to the World
Peace for every boy and girl.
Hope when life is hard
Light when everything seems dark...
Yeah…perhaps I may be able to go shopping this weekend after all…
Oh well…
I have not written in awhile because I have not felt compelled to do so. No impetus. No desire. But, one of the purposes of me doing an on-line journal was to force me write. There are actually a lot of things I would like to write about: my experiences working at a poll station for the primary and general elections, about some things I’ve been reading and watching about sustainability, about some of the awesome live performances I’ve attended lately…the list goes on.
So, why haven’t I written?
Lazy. Tired. Unmotivated. I feel a bit like I’m in neutral, just coasting along allowing gravity to work its will on me. And this is not a way I want to feel going into Christmas. This is supposed to be a magical time. Not magical as in abracadabra or mysticism, but magical as in having a sense of wonder and feeling a deep abiding joy and peace to celebrate the Savior’s earthly birth. Not the commercial hype of gift-buying, but the fun in gift-choosing and gift-giving.
I have begun with the outer trappings hoping it will trigger inner motivation. My Christmas tree is in its stand waiting to be decorated and smelling wonderful. I put a Christmas carol CD in my bedside clock radio. I have not gone to the mall to shop yet, but that might be counterproductive right now. Now, I would be grouchy looking for parking, impatient waiting in line, and getting outraged at other people’s rudeness, etc. I’m trying to get to the point where looking for parking is no big deal, because I can finish singing the Christmas carol on the radio as I drive around. When waiting in line gives me the opportunity to talk to others in line with me or contemplate how lucky I am that I can afford to purchase gifts. When I do not even notice that other people are being rude.
Yeah, I’m not there yet.
But I will be. Hope springs eternal, I guess.
I hope the beginning stirrings are occurring. I get teary eyed listening to some carols on the radio. Especially “Mary Did You Know?” I am totally digging that song right now. It speaks to me. There’s also a “Joy to the World” song that I love but have not heard yet this Christmas season. It’s a little boy singing and the chorus goes something like:
Joy to the World
Peace for every boy and girl.
Hope when life is hard
Light when everything seems dark...
Yeah…perhaps I may be able to go shopping this weekend after all…
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Almost
Barak Obama is the President-Elect of the United States.
Wow.
Honestly though, it is not quite as great as, “Hillary Rodham Clinton is the President-Elect of the United States!” However, it is almost as great.
Listening to Obama’s galvanizing, gracious, and pragmatic acceptance speech, I can almost dismiss the ever-so-faint whiff of regret that America is not celebrating the election of its first female President. Almost. It remains, just a shadow of an aftertaste, but it remains. What if a woman had been elected President of the United States?
We came close…closer than we have ever come before and perhaps that is good enough…for now. Another rung placed on the top of the ladder…one step further. But it hurts, still, to have come so close; and yet that proverbial glass ceiling, for all its cracks, remains relatively intact. It functions as it always did: as a barrier.
Many people of color are thrilled with Obama’s win. They feel they can “really” tell their kids that in America, you can be anything you want to be. I am a person of color. I, too, feel a sense of pride and the hope that comes with newly open doors. But, then I think of the little girls. Will their eyes shine as bright? Will they inhale that confidence, the same way as little boys…so it becomes their truth? So intrinsic that it becomes part of their very being? Or will there be that tell-tale whiff (or did I just imagine it?) that intimates, “But maybe not you. You’re a girl.”
Why must I work harder, better and faster than my male counterparts to get to the same level they inhabit? Will it be all the sweeter to reach that level? To surpass it?
I realize these are not new questions. All minority groups have gone through and continue to go through this morass of questions. Women, people of color, people of a different religion, political party, of different abilities, that speak different languages, of different sexual orientation, people that hold on to a different value system than the majority of their neighbors.
Does the opening for one of us mean an opening for all? I wish…I yearn that this is true. That we can build on one another’s successes. The 15th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution gave black men the right to vote. The 19th Amendment gave women the right to vote. But then I see Proposition 8 passed in California, thus making it illegal for people of the same sex to be married. And I wonder, “Are we almost equal? One step forward, two steps back?” And it hurts my heart.
So this election victory of Barak Obama’s and the agents of change who envision a better world and have reached out to grab it with both hands…your victory…our victory…it is bittersweet to me.
And part of me wonders why I cannot enjoy the fruits of this victory? It means a great deal regarding how we see ourselves, how we identify ourselves as a nation. Why dwell on the negative? The “almost” of it all? Will there always be this sense of emptiness? This feeling that no matter how much is accomplished, that it is never enough? That does not sound healthy.
Then the other part of me argues that it is this part – the one that remains unsatisfied, that strives for more and for better, that will keep our nation and its people on the right track, moving forward. Progressing. So perhaps what is perceived as “negative” is not really negative at all. It is the refusal to rest, because we know we can do better. We can achieve more. It is the part that will ultimately crack that ceiling, made of glass but dense as concrete, into a million shards. And the daughters of the generations who follow will live as if it had never existed. But each will have her own shard, an heirloom reminder of what their grandmothers and great-grandmothers fought, sacrificed, and lived for.
Congratulations, Barak Obama. Congratulations, America.
We’re almost there.
Almost.
Wow.
Honestly though, it is not quite as great as, “Hillary Rodham Clinton is the President-Elect of the United States!” However, it is almost as great.
Listening to Obama’s galvanizing, gracious, and pragmatic acceptance speech, I can almost dismiss the ever-so-faint whiff of regret that America is not celebrating the election of its first female President. Almost. It remains, just a shadow of an aftertaste, but it remains. What if a woman had been elected President of the United States?
We came close…closer than we have ever come before and perhaps that is good enough…for now. Another rung placed on the top of the ladder…one step further. But it hurts, still, to have come so close; and yet that proverbial glass ceiling, for all its cracks, remains relatively intact. It functions as it always did: as a barrier.
Many people of color are thrilled with Obama’s win. They feel they can “really” tell their kids that in America, you can be anything you want to be. I am a person of color. I, too, feel a sense of pride and the hope that comes with newly open doors. But, then I think of the little girls. Will their eyes shine as bright? Will they inhale that confidence, the same way as little boys…so it becomes their truth? So intrinsic that it becomes part of their very being? Or will there be that tell-tale whiff (or did I just imagine it?) that intimates, “But maybe not you. You’re a girl.”
Why must I work harder, better and faster than my male counterparts to get to the same level they inhabit? Will it be all the sweeter to reach that level? To surpass it?
I realize these are not new questions. All minority groups have gone through and continue to go through this morass of questions. Women, people of color, people of a different religion, political party, of different abilities, that speak different languages, of different sexual orientation, people that hold on to a different value system than the majority of their neighbors.
Does the opening for one of us mean an opening for all? I wish…I yearn that this is true. That we can build on one another’s successes. The 15th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution gave black men the right to vote. The 19th Amendment gave women the right to vote. But then I see Proposition 8 passed in California, thus making it illegal for people of the same sex to be married. And I wonder, “Are we almost equal? One step forward, two steps back?” And it hurts my heart.
So this election victory of Barak Obama’s and the agents of change who envision a better world and have reached out to grab it with both hands…your victory…our victory…it is bittersweet to me.
And part of me wonders why I cannot enjoy the fruits of this victory? It means a great deal regarding how we see ourselves, how we identify ourselves as a nation. Why dwell on the negative? The “almost” of it all? Will there always be this sense of emptiness? This feeling that no matter how much is accomplished, that it is never enough? That does not sound healthy.
Then the other part of me argues that it is this part – the one that remains unsatisfied, that strives for more and for better, that will keep our nation and its people on the right track, moving forward. Progressing. So perhaps what is perceived as “negative” is not really negative at all. It is the refusal to rest, because we know we can do better. We can achieve more. It is the part that will ultimately crack that ceiling, made of glass but dense as concrete, into a million shards. And the daughters of the generations who follow will live as if it had never existed. But each will have her own shard, an heirloom reminder of what their grandmothers and great-grandmothers fought, sacrificed, and lived for.
Congratulations, Barak Obama. Congratulations, America.
We’re almost there.
Almost.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Palin Pain
Am I the only one who is worried about Sarah Palin? On the campaign trail, she has been attacking the Presidential candidate from the other party (which apparently is the job of the V.P. candidate), trying to tie him to terrorists and asking, “Who is this guy who does not think like us? Who does not share our values?”
Huh?
That “guy” has been on the campaign trail for almost two years now. That “guy” has gone through a highly competitive primary election process to win the nomination of his party. He has been screened and vetted and has weathered scandal (i.e., Reverend Wright among others). He has written two books and numerous books have been written about him.
I’ve got a better question the American people should be asking. Who the heck is Sarah Palin?
Is she a hockey mom who happened to have the grit, charisma and intelligence to hold the highest office in the State of Alaska as she appeared to be at the Republican Convention? Or is she the fumbling, seemingly clueless and in-over-her-head neophyte as she appeared in her interviews with Charlie Gibson and Katie Couric? Or perhaps she is a one-issue (energy) Republican automaton spouting canned answers to unrelated questions and a bit snarky when feeling defensive, as she appeared in the V.P. debate with Joe Biden.
Will the real Sarah Palin please stand up? Please stand up! (My humble apologies to Eminiem). A bit ironic as McCain is currently getting flak for not securing permission by the Foo Fighters and other artists to use their songs in his campaign.
And if permitted, a follow-up question. Why is it that when transparency through media access is being courted by everyone else involved in this election, Ms. Palin has been tucked away? Her media and public appearances carefully vetted? Inaccessible when everyone else is begging for media attention? (At this point, I picture The Rock with his signature well-groomed eyebrow raised in askance.)
Then there is the conclusion of the recent investigation by the Alaskan bi-partisan commission that began before McCain announced Palin as his V.P. pick. They determined Palin violated an Alaska’s ethics law by abusing her Executive power by firing a State official for personal (familial) reasons, although there were no recommendations for sanctions or criminal prosecution. There are also the stories coming out of Alaska about how Palin’s modus operandi when stepping into a new position seems to be getting rid of those she perceives (accurately or not) as threats and hiring people loyal and grateful to her, although they may not have been as qualified.
I am also concerned about her naked ambition. I think her nickname is “Sarah Barracuda” for a good reason (as I am SweetlyDemure for a good reason). It was pointed out to me that all politicians are ambitious. But, I hope most people go into politics because they want to make a difference, to make changes to improve the lives of their constituents; and their aspiration for higher office is to be in a better position to affect those changes. This may seem naïve, but I am hoping they at least start out this way.
Here’s something I wrote in a “comment” section about Palin after watching the V.P. debate:
It was sooooo irritating and frustrating watching that VP debate! Palin could have been in a room talking to herself and it would have looked exactly the same. They could have just spliced Biden and Ifill in later. Ugh. Let’s talk about economics and the candidates’ plan in this time of crisis…then we get Palin’s canned lecture on energy. Whaaat? It was literally painful.
And the response of the American people? A higher percentage of them think she’s ready to lead. Huh? Were they listening to the same debate? I think people heard her tone of voice, a few folksy platitudes and her canned, rehearsed rhetoric and did not realize that she was not answering the questions put to her.
The worry for the Dems was that Biden would come across too bulldog-ish and if anything, he was too soft. He should have put a little more pressure on her, it might have rattled her a bit. In fact, Palin came across as confrontational and kind of snarky when she made the “white flag” comment in response to Biden’s call for a timetable to get the troops out of Iraq. (One of the few times she actually responded to something!) And also when she corrected Biden on the mantra “Drill Baby, Drill” or whatever. Hello, she couldn’t even get the name of the General leading our troops in Afghanistan correct and Biden didn’t rub her face in it…he didn’t even mention it. I think she called him “McClennan” when it’s “McKiernan.” Bleh. And after some fact checking, he (McKiernan) did say that the surge tactics used in Iraq would not work in Afghanistan (like Biden pointed out and Palin contradicted).
Another telling moment occurred when the candidates answered the question about the (Constitutional) role of the V.P. I seriously wonder (I’m not being facetious) if Sarah Palin has read the Constitution in its entirety. Cheney’s attempt to “expand” the VP position to the Legislative Branch and still maintain Executive Branch privileges is ridiculous and clearly contrary to the whole idea of separation/balance of powers. Ugh. (For those who didn’t see the debate, Palin was for Cheney’s unconstitutional and self-aggrandizing illogic and Biden answered quite correctly that the VP role in the Senate is clearly drawn in the Constitution and that the role of VP is firmly situated in the Executive Branch).
A final thing worth noting was Palin’s answer to Katie Couric about what VP she admires the most. She said George HW Bush because he learned as VP and “moved on up” (or something like that). No matter what happens in this election, she’s in it for 2012, I’m sure. That woman is ambitious. Ambitious and inexperienced and (perhaps?) too ignorant to know she doesn’t know enough. Either that or her ambition far outweighs any concern about that. No matter which way it is, it’s scary for us, the American people. (FYI, Biden’s answer was Lyndon Johnson).
Sarah Palin concerns me. I think Matt Damon likened her nomination as a Disney movie gone absurdly bad. Let’s keep the movies in Hollywood (and Alaska) where they belong and out of Washington, D.C. There is enough absurdity going on there already.
Huh?
That “guy” has been on the campaign trail for almost two years now. That “guy” has gone through a highly competitive primary election process to win the nomination of his party. He has been screened and vetted and has weathered scandal (i.e., Reverend Wright among others). He has written two books and numerous books have been written about him.
I’ve got a better question the American people should be asking. Who the heck is Sarah Palin?
Is she a hockey mom who happened to have the grit, charisma and intelligence to hold the highest office in the State of Alaska as she appeared to be at the Republican Convention? Or is she the fumbling, seemingly clueless and in-over-her-head neophyte as she appeared in her interviews with Charlie Gibson and Katie Couric? Or perhaps she is a one-issue (energy) Republican automaton spouting canned answers to unrelated questions and a bit snarky when feeling defensive, as she appeared in the V.P. debate with Joe Biden.
Will the real Sarah Palin please stand up? Please stand up! (My humble apologies to Eminiem). A bit ironic as McCain is currently getting flak for not securing permission by the Foo Fighters and other artists to use their songs in his campaign.
And if permitted, a follow-up question. Why is it that when transparency through media access is being courted by everyone else involved in this election, Ms. Palin has been tucked away? Her media and public appearances carefully vetted? Inaccessible when everyone else is begging for media attention? (At this point, I picture The Rock with his signature well-groomed eyebrow raised in askance.)
Then there is the conclusion of the recent investigation by the Alaskan bi-partisan commission that began before McCain announced Palin as his V.P. pick. They determined Palin violated an Alaska’s ethics law by abusing her Executive power by firing a State official for personal (familial) reasons, although there were no recommendations for sanctions or criminal prosecution. There are also the stories coming out of Alaska about how Palin’s modus operandi when stepping into a new position seems to be getting rid of those she perceives (accurately or not) as threats and hiring people loyal and grateful to her, although they may not have been as qualified.
I am also concerned about her naked ambition. I think her nickname is “Sarah Barracuda” for a good reason (as I am SweetlyDemure for a good reason). It was pointed out to me that all politicians are ambitious. But, I hope most people go into politics because they want to make a difference, to make changes to improve the lives of their constituents; and their aspiration for higher office is to be in a better position to affect those changes. This may seem naïve, but I am hoping they at least start out this way.
Here’s something I wrote in a “comment” section about Palin after watching the V.P. debate:
It was sooooo irritating and frustrating watching that VP debate! Palin could have been in a room talking to herself and it would have looked exactly the same. They could have just spliced Biden and Ifill in later. Ugh. Let’s talk about economics and the candidates’ plan in this time of crisis…then we get Palin’s canned lecture on energy. Whaaat? It was literally painful.
And the response of the American people? A higher percentage of them think she’s ready to lead. Huh? Were they listening to the same debate? I think people heard her tone of voice, a few folksy platitudes and her canned, rehearsed rhetoric and did not realize that she was not answering the questions put to her.
The worry for the Dems was that Biden would come across too bulldog-ish and if anything, he was too soft. He should have put a little more pressure on her, it might have rattled her a bit. In fact, Palin came across as confrontational and kind of snarky when she made the “white flag” comment in response to Biden’s call for a timetable to get the troops out of Iraq. (One of the few times she actually responded to something!) And also when she corrected Biden on the mantra “Drill Baby, Drill” or whatever. Hello, she couldn’t even get the name of the General leading our troops in Afghanistan correct and Biden didn’t rub her face in it…he didn’t even mention it. I think she called him “McClennan” when it’s “McKiernan.” Bleh. And after some fact checking, he (McKiernan) did say that the surge tactics used in Iraq would not work in Afghanistan (like Biden pointed out and Palin contradicted).
Another telling moment occurred when the candidates answered the question about the (Constitutional) role of the V.P. I seriously wonder (I’m not being facetious) if Sarah Palin has read the Constitution in its entirety. Cheney’s attempt to “expand” the VP position to the Legislative Branch and still maintain Executive Branch privileges is ridiculous and clearly contrary to the whole idea of separation/balance of powers. Ugh. (For those who didn’t see the debate, Palin was for Cheney’s unconstitutional and self-aggrandizing illogic and Biden answered quite correctly that the VP role in the Senate is clearly drawn in the Constitution and that the role of VP is firmly situated in the Executive Branch).
A final thing worth noting was Palin’s answer to Katie Couric about what VP she admires the most. She said George HW Bush because he learned as VP and “moved on up” (or something like that). No matter what happens in this election, she’s in it for 2012, I’m sure. That woman is ambitious. Ambitious and inexperienced and (perhaps?) too ignorant to know she doesn’t know enough. Either that or her ambition far outweighs any concern about that. No matter which way it is, it’s scary for us, the American people. (FYI, Biden’s answer was Lyndon Johnson).
Sarah Palin concerns me. I think Matt Damon likened her nomination as a Disney movie gone absurdly bad. Let’s keep the movies in Hollywood (and Alaska) where they belong and out of Washington, D.C. There is enough absurdity going on there already.
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