Yes, Looks Do Matter

Yes, Looks Do Matter

I went to a broadcast of a live taping of "This American Life" this past week. As an aside, this show is so fantastically done. I love it. Anyway, one of the acts was Starlee Kine talking about a self-help retreat of sorts that she attended where she was encouraged to deal with her mommy and daddy issues. She goes through the various techniques used over the course of her time there and how by the end, she was feeling really great. The punchline comes when she shares that what actually made her feel good was not so much the techniques or catharsis of working out her deep-seated issues with her parents, but rather, the fact that she was ridiculously popular among her peers at the retreat.

The audience laughed, but it is so obvious that it almost feels stupid typing it here. At the end of the day, isn't that all that any of us want? To like and to love and to relate. To be liked and to be loved and related to. By the people and the God with whom you choose to surround yourself. I am missing a lot of steps in between and over simplifying, but if you parse every decision you make regarding just about anything, it mostly comes down to this: Love me! Accept me! And when your choices and decisions pay off, it feels good. And when they don't, it feels like the sucks.

The Obamas Get Up Close and Personal in D.C.

The Obamas Get Up Close and Personal in D.C.

If you follow my (our) blog at all, you will notice that all of us took a (unintended) leave of absence of about eight months... Thinking back, so much has happened in the past eight months. Wow. The most monumental event probably had to be the U.S. Presidential election.

I am indulging myself with the memory of election night five months after the fact.

I was obligated at two different meetings in Geneva the last week of October and the first week of November. Without going into the irrelevant details here, the meetings and the surrounding hoopla were exhausting and emotionally draining. On top of this, I was upset about having to spend election night somewhere outside the country and especially outside D.C. or New York.

The six hour time difference with Geneva meant I was up at 4:20 a.m. to follow the results as they came in; I was expecting the results would still be tight at that hour and I would have several hours of anxious television viewing alone in my hotel room to await me. Rather, when I awoke to the alarm, I had excited texts awaiting me in my inbox - Pennsylvania and Ohio had already been called for then-Senator Obama. I called the two people from whom I had received texts: a lovely Stateside colleague and my brother, whom I could barely hear above the din of celebrants who surrounded him in New York City. It was only a matter of time. When Virginia (my home state nonetheless) was declared blue shortly thereafter and the election was called by 6:00 a.m., I cried like a baby. I called my parents and cried some more. I cried even more during the victory speech.

One of my colleagues had graciously offered to host an election morning breakfast at his apartment. Some of us who were attending had been e mailing frantically back and forth in those early morning hours before the sun rose. As 7 a.m. came around, we all found ourselves at his place - some of us excited, wired and wide awake, some still bleary-eyed from lack of sleep and there for the company and the moment. There were eight of us and we represented the USA, the UK, Italy, Argentina, Belgium and Hong Kong (order of countries is random!). Together we watched the news coverage; we shared our thoughts on the speech (some were into it; some were not feeling it). We ate muffins, drank cava and I went to work with an unbelievably happy buzz. The stress of the previous week was gone. All day long, happy faces shone and words of congratulations and relief ("We're so glad America did the right thing!") from my African, Asian, Australian and European colleagues - rang in my ears.

The election and inauguration meant as many different things to various folks as there are people. For me, the election of an African American president was about resurrected hope in the unseen and resurrected hope in the ability of people to get over differences. And all in all, the meaning for me was/is almost entirely wrapped up in America and America-ness. But to share the moment outside the States with colleagues from other places who were excited with me ... that was just cool.

Last Impressions

Last Impressions

I bought stationery this weekend. Over the past year, I have been unsuccessfully looking for note cards to use for personal correspondence and was starting to think I was going to have to have a set of cards custom made. But I finally found a perfect set. I wanted to write a letter right away with my new find, but realized that I don't have anyone to whom I wanted and could reasonably write a letter. Other than thank you notes and gift cards, I do not hand write letters anymore. I was a prolific letter writer throughout my high school years and held onto a lot of those old letters. Some of those old letters are all I have left of people I loved and who are not around anymore. I do not consider myself a romanticist, but as/when I start losing those who entered my post-hand-written-letter-writing-life, what tangible, non-electronic evidence will there be to say: this person meant something to me and I something to them.

Conspiracy

It's a freakin conspiracy against Mexicans, I tell you!!!

Seriously, the Washington Post hates latinos.

Reds on Ice: It's Not Heresy

Reds on Ice? It's Not Heresy

I spent most of the past six summers detesting summer and trying to escape (and usually successfully) the City any chance I got, so it feels weird to be looking forward to indulging in summer.

I plan on drinking outside with my friends and getting a good buzz going. I am self-imposing a detox in July, but then I have all of August to indulge in cold beer and chilled rosés. To go along with the beverages, I am going to eat all the grilled meat and vegetables I can. I just grilled and ate about 20 pounds of galbi to prepare for this … it made me want to find an excuse to invite everyone I know in the Washington metropolitan area to my parents’ house for a barbecue.

I may also be found sunbathing by the pool. I plan to slather on the SPF 30 and roast in the sun whenever I damn well please because my condo fees let me do so. I don’t even care what I look like in a bikini at this point (okay, maybe I do a little).

After I get some color on my unusually pale self (or maybe even before), I am going to start sporting my new summertime threads – I scratched a major shopping itch at the sales in Geneva and today at the outlets in Virginia … I look forward most to wearing my new gold espadrille wedge heels. I don’t give a shit if they are a few seasons old – they were only $40 and make my ankles look skinny. Besides, I live in Virginia now: I am allowed to enjoy the summer and be fashionably behind the times. Life is good!

Alas, all this starts tomorrow with the 4th of July … For now, I am ridiculously jet lagged and must drag my tired ass to bed.

Modern Love: The College Essay Contest

Modern Love: The College Essay Contest

I don't need to write my book anymore. Author of read summed it up pretty damn nicely!

Is it normal to be 30-something years old and so completely clueless about everything?

Obama Is Decisive Winner in NC; Clinton Ekes out Victory in India

Obama Is Decisive Winner in NC; Clinton Ekes out Victory in India

I believe Mariah sings it best: "We said let go, but I kept on hanging on... Inside I know it's over; you're really gone. It's killing me 'cuz there ain't nothing that I can do ..."