One Week...

We played that BNL song enroute to work tonight. Somehow I have a feeling I'll be checking email even after leaving for Christmas.

It's been a year. Several trips, including Oslo. Several frustrations at work. Luckily, the family is healthy and we have another nephew. We have not had to suffer much.

It's two weeks and one day to my 39th Christmas. And you know, I'm not even feeling that spirit this year. We haven't decorated at home, we haven't even gone to the mall to go shopping. What's been done is all online. We haven't even bought a tree.

Some of it is preaching that kindness and that coolness that I feed myself. Some of it is just being tired and need to give myself a true break from trying to do it all. It's something only women try to do: it all. And there's always an element of second guessing.

So one week. And there's a lot ahead this week, something almost every day. So here's to making it a good week. 

Thanksgiving, Sick, Etc.

Been a long week. I keep saying "I survived Thanksgiving." I survived the trip, the Turkey Trot, the photos, the Melatonin, and Interstellar. I hate to be crude about it. But after coming home, sick and facing insomnia, well, I was glad to be home. It was too much.

I need to strive to care for myself better. Nurse myself, treat myself gingerly, take care now. I think it's easy to put yourself on the back burner. Very easy, when you strive to care for others. And I think it's wearing my body down. I did get to run this morning and yesterday, and though I was exhausted from the Tylenol PM, at least I did it. And it felt good getting that done before 8am.

This weekend? Watch football, relax, sleep. See friends. Take care. Treat myself kindly, and strive to treat others kindly, too.

J&J

Everyone now and then, out of nowhere, I get lost in the J&J story. Lately, it's been the rape aftermath, because Days apparently can't stop beating that story. Gosh, I can't believe this really started 25 years ago. I don't know how I even got so into them, maybe it was watching a bit over Christmas and breaks, and then I really got sucked into the COD. It was June 1990, really, but something must have sparked that interest. Being 14 at the time, I was at that age, too. The perfect storm. And watching those scenes, so readily available on YouTube, damn. I forget and then remember all over again how wrapped up I was in that story, how wonderful the acting was, how captivating and frustrating and angst-filled it all was.

Anyway, I am sure my interest will recede, but I know when other stressful things are on my mind, I get lost in those Days. It's a good escape, albeit only a temporary one.

Four Things

Four names that people call me other than my real name:

1. LisaBeee
2. Sweetie

Four jobs I’ve had:

1. Aco Hardware
2. Arbor Drugs
3. The Children's Place
4. Giffels

Four movies you’ve watched more than once:

1. It's a Wonderful Life
2. With Honors
3. Pretty Women
4. Dirty Dancing

Four books I’d recommend:

1. A History of the American People
2. Rules of Civility
3. A Good Man is Hard to Find and other Short Stories
4. James Madison by Lynne Cheney
   

Four places I’ve lived

1. Detroit
2. Indiana
3. Washington, DC
4. Arlington, VA

Four Places you have visited:

1. Dublin
2. Oslo
3. Uganda
4. Finland

Four places I’d rather be right now:

1. The Bahamas
2. at my parents' house
3. with my nephews
4. Paris

Four things I don’t eat:

1. Olives
2. canned tuna fish
3. kiska
4. sweet breads

Four of my favorite foods:

1. Lasagna
2. Pizza
3. Potato Chips
4. Sushi

Four TV shows I watch:

1. Nashville
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. The Big Bang Theory
4. Mad Men

Four things I’m looking forward to this year:

1. Bahamas
2. Thanksgiving
3. Christmas
4. Visiting Cincinnati

Immigration

This may be one of the worst columns I’ve ever seen. How dare the US make our country so attractive that we force Cuban doctors, exploited by their communist government, to want to defect! (and it’s all George W. Bush’s fault, since the policy was created in 2006). 

So Disgruntlement...

I've been going through those stages in the last, oh 15 years, when I just need to move on. I work so hard, feel so little respect, and just get so disgruntled. And you do this flip side, bargaining sort of perspective: Lucky to have a job, lucky to have members I consider friends, lucky to have these kinds of opportunities in general. And then I feel cut off, and disconnected, and ignored. And again, that idea of ego affects me. And I know my attitude is awful now, and I'm maybe being short-sided. I don't know.

I always prided myself on knowing that hard work is acknowledged and rewarded, but motivation...that is the tricky part and where many fall flat. But it's a vicious circle oftentimes: you lose that impetus to advance when you think that everything you do is overlooked. And it's hard to know if you are being sensitive or if you're being realistic. And when it's time to forge onward.

I don't know. I'll see how I feel after yet another convention. I anticipate this time yet dread it. If only I had something going on...I used to fantasize a bit about being pregnant, about feeling well-known and admired and being a central figure. But now I just want to muddle through.

Standing Up for Yourself

One of my deepest regrets in life is how I've occasionally let people steal my joy. More than occasionally. I've let people insult me, yell at me, demean me, and I haven't always defended myself. I let others make me feel diminished.

Maybe it's because of a looming milestone birthday in 16 months. Maybe it's because I was so hurt yesterday to not be included in an awesome black tie gala that I would have felt so honored to attend. Maybe it's because I wasn't considered at all. I don't know.

I have neglected writing a lot. I don't think it is has been become of a lack of things to say. I've certainly mentally noted a number of ideas and internal essays that recount and extrapolate on various slights. Or perceived slights. Or just raw feelings that I can't articulate because of some inner defensiveness, some deep desire to not let others see my wounds.

I'm not a showy person. I'm an introvert in an extrovert's world, and that is the source of both weakness and strength. I can turn it on, but I usually recoil within.

I guess some of this comes from a hidden pride, and that's also not always a good thing. Of course, I have an ego and of course I'd like my self-esteem safely patted and appreciated and nurtured. I will always remember that convention about 11 years ago when I got some whoomps during staff recognition, and it was such a quiet thrill to have comments on that. I don't think I've ever felt that appreciated in my life. Or grateful. It brings a tear to this day.

I also need to be more of an advocate for others. I could do more to appreciate support that I have received. But first, I need to work on recovering my own joy. I have an immense amount of gratitude to have a home, a job, a husband, a brilliant family, and a wide circle of friends and supportive associates. But sometimes you just need that extra bit of love. Or an out of nowhere measure of devotion. Or a boost. Ask and you shall receive, once in a while. Or not.

The Closing Arguments

Charles Krauthammer makes the case against Obama:

The anemic economy, the revulsion with governmental incompetence and the sense of national decline are, taken together, exacting a heavy toll on Democratic candidates. After all, they represent not just the party now in government but the party of government.

These are the closing arguments in the case against the Obama Administration. And Krauthammer barely scratched the surface of issues like Benghazi, his unprecedented executive overreach (and abdication, of everything he “didn’t know about”, and Fast & Furious.

Though don’t underestimate potential voter fraud in several places like Colorado. (And just general GOP campaign incompetence, though Dem candidates like Bruce Braley and Senator Mark Udall win this time around for dumb candidate statements). There will likely be run-offs in GA and Louisiana, so the election won’t end on Tuesday.

Age of Reagan

This is an important point about President Reagan:

To begin with perhaps the most important distinction: Reagan was indeed a great champion of human freedom, just as his admirers say, and a nemesis of statism. Nevertheless, he was no simplistic, doctrinaire libertarian.

The core of Reagan’s thought lay not primarily in his love of freedom, as powerful as that was, but in something else, something captured in the epitaph on his grave, which quoted his own words:

I know in my heart that man is good. That what is right will always eventually triumph. And there’s purpose and worth to each and every life.

For Reagan, human dignity—not human freedom—came first. This idea permeated his political career.

As early as 1957, in a commencement address at Eureka College, his alma mater, he defined the Cold War as “a simple struggle between those of us who believe that man has the dignity and sacred right and the ability to choose and shape his own destiny and those who do not so believe.” For Reagan, human dignity was what enabled human freedom—that is, the ability of each individual to “shape his own destiny”—not the reverse.

President Reagan captured the times, and it's no surprise that this next generation of conservative presidential candidates want to connect with him and want voters to associate. But this emphasis on "dignity" is a critical distinction. Without dignity, there can be no liberty or freedom, because you lose your free will. And right, at a time when dependency and debt and hopelessness permeates our inner cities and culture, perhaps only someone like a Paul Ryan can speak in this voice. I'm not sure any of the other candidates can articulate that as well.

Scary World

As a frequent flier, it is unnerving to hear that the second healthcare worker who treated Thomas Eric Duncan flew on an airplane shortly before being diagnosed with Ebola. So crazy. I mean, God only knows who may be diagnosed next. That poor nurse, that innocent victim. There is too much scary at times. I guess the world was a scary place when we were children...the long-ago threat of a nuclear war and the Soviet Union was what kept you up at night. And that threat dissipated as the Soviet  Union broke up. It's been nearly 25 years since the Berlin Wall fell, and I still remember watching Germans scale the wall on that night in November, out of joyful anticipation that the physical wall was falling, along with the political divides that had carved up a continent for over 40 years.

But now? Think of all that has happened in this past year, from Boko Haram to ISIS to ongoing violence in Syria, to the downed jetliner and the missing Malaysian jet. To sickness that children are carrying with them as they cross the border, a strange polio-esque violence that paralyzes and kills other innocents. You lose track and move past last week's threat to prepare for something even wilder than your typical imagination.

I think about how many flights I've taken in the last six weeks...to Norway and to Seattle and Portland and Montana and soon to Utah. And trains and metros and buses and ships. We're all vulnerable, and I don't think the Weekly Standard is scare-mongering when it says a terrorist could contract Ebola and still fly to the United States, vomit all over the New York expressway. Remember, I was at Harris Teeter last weekend when some hipster-looking kid asked to cut in front of me in line because he needed to buy anti-vomit medication. That today raises alarms. You don't know. It's a failure of imagination to assume that whatever the next threat will be is one that we can anticipate. No one once upon a time through a jetliner could crash into a skyscraper. That is why they call it terrorism.

But we live our lives and we accept that our common humanity makes us realize that man is largely decent. And we cannot live in fear, because that is no life. But it is a scary world, and we're naive to pretend that convoluted reasons to keep borders open is nothing but a triumph of political correctness. The world may ultimately a humane place, but Ebola doesn't know that.