The Power of Nothing

So we took Saturday night off. Of everything. We didn't cook food or do laundry or homework. We had an early dinner at a restaurant and came home plunked ourselves on the couch for the night. Jeff got me 2 seasons of the West Wing that I didn't already have for my birthday and we watched a half dozen episodes, with popcorn and everything.

I know - doesn't sound blogworthy - but for us it seems we never take that kind of time and I'm here to tell you, it's totally worth it. Totally. Today I'm refreshed, relaxed and feel like I had a really nice date last night (which I did). I tackled a school project with a clear head and focused direction.

So since I'm a student of public policy, I'm trying to quantify the benefits of last night so we can incorporate these opportunities into the federal or state budgets. Pass a law requiring downtime. Mandatory minimums on fun. Once-monthly pajama days. National Election-and-Nap holidays, so you go to vote only after you're well-rested and capable of reasoned reflection (super Tuesday would be so much more mellow).

I think I just identified my master's thesis topic.

Symbolism

Last night I went searching through my jewelry box to find appropriate Irish stuff to wear for St. Patrick's Day. What I ended up finding was a bit of my history and fond memories.

First I came across a pin that is made from marble from Connemara that my former work-friend Elizabeth got for me in Ireland about 14 years ago. I asked her to find something made from Connemara marble because my mother used to have a shamrock pin but it was stolen when our house was broken into and I'd hoped to find something just like it. So it was nice to remember that pin, and my mother, and Elizabeth, and my Auntie Dot and Auntie Kay who brought the shamrock pin home from Ireland for my mom.

Then there is the gold celtic knot ring I bought in Ireland when Jeff took me there for our 10th anniversary. It was in impulse buy at Shannon airport on our way out of the country and I was remembering how much I loved that trip and especially seeing so many people in the airport who looked familiar - like family. It was in the jewelry box next to the Claddagh ring I had bought for Jeff (that he never wore - that's another blog) when we were dating and I was pretty sure I had fallen in love and wanted him to know it.

Then there is the lovely silver celtic knot pendant that Roland and Amanda gave me for Christmas last year - we'd been to Ireland a second time by then and I think they knew how much I would appreciate the necklace - and I do - and think of them when I wear it.

So on this St. Patrick's Day I'm humming songs my mother sang and remembering my friends and family long gone. And my old Irish wish for you:

May your home always be too small to hold all your friends.

Erin go Bragh

Facebooked Part II

So now it's become a really goofy obsession - I've been transported back to high school and am again experiencing the angst of not being in the cool group and worrying about getting a date to the prom. I was sharing with friends at work how dumb this whole facebook thing is and the very next morning, got invitations from both of them to be facebook-friends. Now, since I'm up to 3 friends and thoroughly sucked in, I'm starting to seek more friends, lest those three think they're the only friends I have and start feeling sorry for me. So I invited someone to be a friend - and he agreed - so now the count is up to 4. I'm on a roll.

Of course I have to bring this nonsense with me to the hairdressers yesterday and while the adorable 20-year old is cutting my hair, I asked her, since she's 20 and not 40-something, about the whole protocol and if I had, say 5 friends, but they were really good-quality friends, can that count as being just as good as, like 130 "facebook friends" who are mostly just acquaintances that everyone piles up just to look like they have lots of "real friends." She assured me that I would appear just as cool with my few quality friends, so I'm backing off of the desperate begging for friends that I was considering. She also thought me very wise when I asked about the whole having-facebook-blog-monologues-instead-of-in-person-conversations and told me that she'd gotten into a disagreement with her friend but didn't know it until her friend wrote on her wall about it and now everyone knows about it. But no one's talking to each other about it.

Am I overthinking this?

What I think really needs to happen is for the snow to melt up here in the Berkshires and we can all go outside and play. Then blog about it...

Facebooked

So I got an e-mail from a dear friend the other day inviting me to look at her Facebook page. I have no interest in Facebook whatsoever and have been listening all week to the news reports about people surrendering all their rights, plus their firstborn children, when they decide to join Facebook. So when I got this e-mail, I was faced with the dilemma of just blowing off my friend or signing over all future royalties in order to join.

So I joined.

But here’s the thing. Now I can look and see what people are up to, see if they’re online at the same time I am and communicate electronically with them or just peek at their pictures. These are typically people I don’t make the time to call or visit with already. Now I have another vehicle to not have direct contact with them. I’m not feeling good about this. It’s bad enough that I have a blog and just say things at people without actually having a dialogue. Now we can have entire relationships without actually having relationships. And – here’s the added stress I don’t need: what if I don’t add friends – then it looks like I don’t have any friends. Or what if I just start adding people to make it look like I have friends, but really they’re not my friends – just acquaintances. Am I leading them on? What if I don’t like them that way… Or what if no one comes to my funeral, but lots of people sign the online guest book…

I’m going to call my friend. Or maybe just send her a link to my blog and she can read what I think.

Public Display of Affection

I love Valentine's Day.

I know - it's a big marketing thing that sets ridiculous expectations for high school boys and inattentive husbands, effectively setting most up for failure.

Still - I love having an excuse to reflect upon how much I adore my husband.

I had an assignment in class on Wednesday (it's an organizational behavior kinda thing) and I had to provide an analysis of my family as an organization. I was asked to consider what the long-term goals of the organization are, who makes the rules, how do we know what the rules are, what happens when the rules are broken - stuff like that. In considering my family organization to be me & Jeff, I was able to determine the structure of the organization is nearly perfect ~ we share the same long-term goals, decisions are made cooperatively with the good of the organization in mind. It's a partnership that emphasizes strengths, minimizes weaknesses and realizes a common-good. Plus there's kissing and stuff.

So - I'm happy on this Valentine's Day to tell my husband how much I love him and look forward to the rest of our journey together. To thank him for his love and support and to tell him how glad I am that we've held hands and jumped over the bumps in the road together. To say, Honey, I love you so much.

Wicked Nice

So I'm back in school and already overwhelmed with work and schoolwork (like I don't have enough excuses for not blogging) but had a really nice experience tonight. I ventured out of my regular program to take a class that's part of the school of education at UMass. What's a little amusing is that I didn't realize this course, that is approved by my program for Masters' level credit is part of the Doctoral program in education (yep, I'm a snotty CPPA student) so when I discovered that I expected to be completely out of my league and surrounded by brainiacs. In reality, I was just welcomed into the fold of a very tight group of people that are really smart, funny and wicked nice. They're all part of the same program and have taken lots of classes together so I was acknowleged as the outsider but treated like a new friend.

Also awesome was that I was assigned a group exercise with three other people (in a class of fifteen) and they were from three different countries - I'm feeling so diverse!

The best part - these are totally committed educators who are studying education policy (and all vowing to undue the damage of NCLB) - I just love that kids will benefit from these wonderful people. Truly inspiring.

I still have too much homework.

Peaceful Transition - Part II

So here I am all in my spot, with 2 million of my closest compatriots, and the ceremony begins. I was right near speakers so even though I could mostly just see the top of the capitol building and the backs of people's heads, I could hear everything well. Loved the music, wished I could have seen the goof during the President's oath. My friends tell me that the televised version didn't pick up much sound from the crowd, but there were so many moments of spontaneous reactions that you just had to be there to understand. Just as the program got to the President's oath of office, there was a low, steady "yes we can, yes we can, yes we can" - I'm tearing up just recalling it now.
Lots of m-hmms and amens during his speech, people around me sniffling and a husband who wiped a tear from his wife's cheek. Then, too, moments when all 2 million were completely silent - even the children on parents' shoulders were still and mesmerized.

Then, when the program ended and the crowd started to disburse, up popped the helicopter carrying the former President Bush (I asked Jeff to clarify for me - it's not called Marine 1 anymore, since it wasn't carrying the current president) and those around me broke into a spontaneous "na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey Goodbye..."

Goodbye, indeed.

So now the throngs of people had to get out of the district and everyone tried to get on the train at exactly the same time - nope, that wasn't going to work. The station we had come in on had closed but I had arranged to meet my niece back there and figure out a plan. Cell phone service, as we had been warned, was overtaxed and calling or texting was really difficult. My niece and I were about 20 feet apart at the meetup point but couldn't find each other for a long time - finally we were able to connect by phone and found one another. As it turned out, every spot along the mall from the Capitol, where I was, to the Washington Monument closed so after walking all the way back to the end of the mall, she ended up finding a coffee cafe on the L'Enfant train station/shopping mall and she stayed nice and warm, sipping coffee and enjoying a muffin, still able to hear the entire inaugural program. We decided to walk back from the Capitol South train station to see if L'Enfant was open (bumped into - literally - John Oliver from the Daily Show on the way - looking concerned that his camera crew couldn't stay together in the mobs) and found thousands thinking the same thing. We decided to find food and a restroom in the shopping center and still the crowds of people were kind and gentle and patient. Got a sandwich and got into line (by line I mean the hundreds of people filling the entire shopping center corridor that lead to the escalator down to the train) and prepared to wait. And wait. Most of the stores were closed, except Radio Shack for some reason, and the hallway got really warm. Then someone fainted. A little while later, someone else fainted. A nurse who was in the crowd helped both, then started advising (yelling at) everyone to take off coats and hats to avoid overheating. I wondered if anyone was (1) communicating with the metro station to open and prioritize getting this crowd onto the train (2) thought about turning on the air conditioning and (3) was prepared in case people panicked thinking we were under terrorist attack. In the 2 1/2 hours we were in the hallway, no one had cell service and a total of 4 people hit the floor. The reaction from the crowd was to help each other off with their coats, share juice and water they had and continue to be kind and patient. Unbelievable.
Line moved forward, we all got on the train (got to sit down, even) and then we (all of us on the train) just sat back and collectivey shared how remarkable the day was. And our optimism for the future.
Arriving back at my sister's house, she had dialed up cnn.com and I got to see a photo of what the mall looked like - amazing.
At Dulles the next morning, I was watching the news and hearing the day called a "lovefest" and "Woodstock moment" - I wouldn't presume to give it a label, but it was truly something extraordinary and I was privileged to be a part of it.

I've never been more proud of my country.