I Had a Dream

I had a dream about Obama the other night.

I know, that almost sounds like a poorly-scripted mashup of historical statements and I don't mean any disrespect to Dr. King.

But, I did. Sunday night I spent the evening watching the "60 Minutes" interview with the Obamas and on my lap rested a handful of recent magazines (Time, Rolling Stone, People) all featuring his charming face on the cover. I'm guessing that it all seeped into my sub-conscious, and created a very active imagination in my sleep.

Before you go thinking I'd be interested in having an extra-marital affair with the President-elect, let me clarify. In my dream, he wasn't married, but he was most definitely the soon-to-be leader of the free world. I don't recall much, as I'm prone to do with dreams no matter how vivid, but it felt pretty real at the time.

I recall being shuttled in and out of back doors under the protection of the U.S. Secret Service, and I was dressed up in ball gowns, pants suits and other fancy outfits that befitted a woman dating the man who was to live at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I remember standing off-stage while he commanded a podium, and receiving him as he exited the spotlight. I remember sitting across from him at a dimly lit restaurant talking for hours. I remember telling my friends, in hushed and excited tones, that I was dating the President-elect.

Maybe I've seen "The American President" one too many times?

When I told Brett about the dream, instead of feeling self-conscious about the state of our relationship, he rather said, "I'm guessing you're not the only woman in America who is dreaming about Obama." He may be right.

But, frankly, I'm content to have him be my President, not my date. However appealing that mega-watt smile, calm persona and sharp intellect may be.

You Drive the Wagon, I'll Ride Shotgun

With the non-stop coverage of the Olympics on television, and the water cooler talk everywhere focused on Michael Phelps Mania, it is hard not to at least be sensitive to, or tuned into, the madness and excitement that is the Olympics in Beijing.

Two weeks ago 90% of the American population probably couldn't name two swimmers, and now the whole country is signing up for swim team and hankering to own a Speedo. My red, bleary eyes are a dead giveaway that I've been staying up way too late to catch the action.

A moment of reflection is due, however, for all of the other bandwagons I've willingly climbed up on, and the few I've deftly managed to avoid.

Bandwagons I've Joined:

College Football - This is not one I'm ashamed of. Despite not having grown up a Dawgs fan (my parents weren't southern, and I only got turned onto it in high school), when you take one look at an SEC tailgate, with the Dawgs gear out in full glory, you fall instantly in love. I'm not apologizing for this one, and keep my Official Bandwagon Member Certification in my top drawer. Go Dawgs!

iPods - Embarrassingly, I still tote around the first generation iPod. It's vintage! And, it is by today's standards, enormous and weighs about 10 lbs. The battery won't hold a charge but it plays great if it is plugged into a dock or my car's adapter. And, what kind of commuter would I be without those clever little white earbud headphones?

The Cubs - I live 4 blocks from Wrigley Field and therefore it would be illegal not to like them, and all kidding aside, those Kosher hot dogs are just too damn delicious.

The Bears - Who doesn't like sitting outside in the wet snowy icy rain when it is 14 degrees outside? And talking smack about our own (lame) quarterback?

The Bulls - I tried. the games are pretty boring these days, and the United Center is just too hard to get home from. Raise your hand if you couldn't give a damn about a league of thugs who make too much money and act like idiots off the court? However, buy me a few $8 beers and spring for the ticket, and I'm in.

Gyms - Egad. I tried it for a few years here and realized that just paying the $60 monthly fee doesn't make you lose weight. If only. I'm pretty sure that my checkbook was the only thing getting any skinner during those long and torturous years of bandwagon-ness.

Sororities - I did it. So sue me. I also wore pearls and jean jackets, date party t-shirts and frat party sweatshirts. Forgive me for my sins, but it sure was one helluva way to meet people at a huge school. Sorority Rush was one giant sanctioned bandwagon, wasn't it?

Halloween - Despite looking hideous most years, I have dutifully concocted a silly costume and tromped all over town like an oversized (and overserved) child. It was much more fun than that a the time, but maybe that was the vodka talking?

Vintage Posters - You know the ones. Yes you do. Turn around in your living room and you'll likely see it, touting a wine or a European destination. They quickly became the rage in about 2000, and I have a huge one in my dining room. I love it, but it isn't that clever when everyone else has one, too.

Hair - Where do I begin? I permed it in elementary school (Lord help me). I teased and sprayed my bangs in middle school. I hot-rolled my hair every morning before high school, and wore it long because that's what the popular girls did. I got to college and in a pseudo-rebellious move, I cut it all off (oooh wasn't I brave?). Then, when I accidentally ended up with a mullet, I started growing it back out. then I moved to Chicago and realized I could use a shorter 'do to seem older in business meetings. Cut it to my chin. Then realized (and was told a former not-so-tactful colleague as much) that I looked better with it long. It's been long since. Should the trend swing back short, I sure hope I miss out. Because I'm clearly not ready (or in the station of life) for the Mom Haircut just yet.

Leather Pants - I think it is still too soon to discuss this one. I'm pretty emotionally scarred by the memories (and the photographic evidence), but at least I never had a Ross Gellar experience while wearing (or removing) them.

Politics - Not as much of a bandwagon-fan there, but inspired by what this election offers. Change is good, and needed, so I'm game. If the wagon makes young people vote, I'll drive.

Blackberry - I confess. Mine is not a Blackberry, but a Blackjack. Yet I'm addicted just the same.

Thongs - Yes. Underwear. I said it. And, I'm admitting it. I turned from a thong-hater, to a swears-by-it thong wearer. Too much information? I know. But, if you give the Hanky Panky brand a try, and can get a second mortgage to cover it, buy some. You'll thank me.

Oversized Shades - I feel a bit like Paris or Nicole, but in my huge sunglasses, I look cool.

Going Green - I recycle. Isn't that enough? No. I know. But I'm working on it. I have just been asked to participate in an interactive marketing program for the household brand method, so I'm gonna up my participation in the green movement. How globally conscious of me.

Facebook - Not afraid to announce that I love it. I'm not a creepy stalker, or a pedophile, or a mom with four gorgeous kids on display. Just your average user who likes to see how people are, who got married to whom, and where everyone lives. Ok, and stalk the occasional ex. Isn't that part of it?

Mac Revolution - Maybe "revolution" gives it too much credit, but I do love my Mac. And, I swear I'll never own a PC again. And the store? So fun and gadgety.

Harry Potter - While I wasn't the fan that was in the Border's Bookstore at midnight, I did read the first three or four, and actually was quite surprised at how much fun they were to read. Until I got publicly ridiculed by a mother to her six-year old on the bus one day for "reading a kid's book." I lost interest shortly thereafter. Coincidence?

Jewelry - Slap bracelets, jelly bracelets, chandelier earrings, chunky plastic necklaces, fake diamond studs, Swatch watches, braided ribbon barrettes, grosgrain ribbons in our hair, scarves in the summer, stone jewelry, turquoise jewelry, etc. I could keep going. I know that most of these are trends in fashion (brief, painful and fleeting) but they seem like a bandwagon at the time. I couldn't swing a cat outside on Michigan Avenue right now without knocking over at least a dozen sporting the latest jewelry or fashion bandwagons.

Weddings & Babies - I fully admit this isn't a bandwagon, but given the number of bridal showers, bachelorette parties, weddings, engagement parties and baby showers I've been to, and the sheer volume of announcements and invitations littering my stainless steel fridge, I'd have to say that something's in the water. I'm going thirsty for now.

Stainless Steel Appliances - Didn't occur to me until I wrote the above, but its true. I'm a convert and cringe a little when I think of the pre-renovation brown fridge and pink stove. Shudder.

Chicago - You'd think I was the president of the tourism office here, I love this place so much. I think that is a healthy addiction, no? I am pretty sure the city loves me back. Besides those few parking tickets...

Blogging - This one is clear. But you're here, aren't you? And still having fun? I'm good enough, smart enough and funny enough? And, gosh darnit, people like me? (Maybe add a comment here just to confirm my suspicions that someone other than my mom, sister and Jenny are reading me daily).


Bandwagons I've Avoided:

Footwear - Those Greek lace-up sandals look painful, cowboy boots and skirts just look ridiculous. Oh, and if you live in L.A.? UGGs aren't for you. Personally, I always thought they were hideous (and sortof still do), but then I tried on my friend Brenna's and dear God in heaven I have to own some. At least the weather here warrants the ugliness.

Jeans - Let's call a spade a spade. Those high-waisted things are atrocious - don't those girls own a mirror? I don't need anything accentuating my girl-pooch, or drawing attention to my crotch.

Alternative Medicine - Short of a pleasant massage, I've never been treated in anything resembling Eastern Medicine. I've not tried cupping (too vain), herbal supplements (too cheap), chiropractic care (too skeptical), acupuncture (too afraid) or those God-awful fish that eat the dead human flesh on your feet (too disgusted).

Tattoos - We've already covered how this is not my thing. I'm just ever so glad that I was strong enough not to cave in high school.

Belly button piercings - Short of almost getting dragged into it in Amsterdam (I blame Mandi and the 12 beers), I didn't succumb to the pressure. My stomach is so glad - I'd probably have to dig it out and have it surgically removed from the gentle rolls I'm gathering down there now, and that's not sexy one bit.

Hybrids - Mostly because I'm fond of my Jeep Liberty, and far too lazy to sell the thing. It's possible that I'll convert after this one is paid off, or when gas prices go to $10 a gallon. At that point I'll have no choice. (I do have a bike in case you're wondering, but I'm far too wimpy to bike to work).

What other bandwagons have you jumped aboard, or deftly avoided? That's all I can think of.

Maybe I'm a joiner, not a rebel?

I know, I know. Hide your surprise.

Crash Into Me

I watched the Oscar-winning film "Crash" again this week, and I feel the same way I did the first time. A sticky combination of sadness and acknowledgement.

The sadness part is easy.

There are sad storylines, sad endings, sad people and sad scenarios. This sadness is okay, though, because it proves that I'm a feeling and sensitive human being. And, it can be cured by a dose of Seinfeld or something else uplifting like eating a whole bag of Twizzlers Twerpz and telling myself it was just a movie and that it isn't real. But it is, and I know that deeper in my heart than I'd care to admit.

The acknowledgement part is a little more complex.

The message of the movie, in my humble and un-researched opinion, is that we ALL judge others based on stereotypes. And, that deep down, we don't really mean to be racist or judgemental or ignorant, but we sometimes are. And, we are often dealt the consequences of these actions, and we must acknowledge this.

I also think there is an underlying message of goodness—even the terribly unlikable characters, namely Matt Dillon's crooked cop—have a softer and more loving side to them that they don't show the world, just those whom they love. And, I'm certain that this is true to some degree. It is even possible that serial killers are nice to their mothers. But, I wonder about this notion. Are people inherently good, and we make bad decisions that make us bad people? This brings up the nature vs. nurture argument that is too heady for me to attack, but is definitely on my mind today.

Living in a relatively diverse city, but recognizing the divide that exists here geographically, socially, etc., it is impossible to ignore the fact that we are faced with countless opportunities (loosely using that word) to judge, or be judged, based on nothing more than what's on the surface. The color of our skin, the clothes we wear, the tattoos/piercings we boast, the cars we drive, the jobs we hold, and even the pets we walk. We pass judgements on people so quickly we're often not even aware that we're doing so. I'm guilty, and so are you.

I suggested to a few friends that I wondered if we all, meaning, all Americans, had to watch Crash, and engage in a healthy and vibrant discussion of the messages therein, would we be nicer and more forgiving of each other? Would we reduce our judgements down to those only when earned by specific words or behavior? Would we operate more "as one?"

Their opinion was a sad one, saying that people would likely inevitably revert back to their old ways after a few days/weeks of behaving more openly. That it was similar to how the country collectively "decided" to be nicer to one another after 9/11, and how within a month, the realities of human nature crept back in. It can also be likened to how you make all these geniune promises to change around the New Year, and by February first, you're back comfortably in your old rut. Given the movie's clever title and tagline, "Moving at the speed of light, we are bound to collide into with each other.", it would seem that much is true.

However, with the topic of race on everyone's mind, and the cover of every newspaper in America, I wonder about it though. Are we a country that could actually change?

It is possible that I am being too naive, and too simple-minded, to ascertain from all of this that educating Americans on racial stereotypes, and how to avoid falling into the same bad behaviors, would help?

Or are we just stubborn jerks with bad habits?

Personally, the final and resounding message of the movie was that of fear. Don't let fear dictate how you respond to people. Fear was a prevalent force in the movie, and it is alive and well in every city, town and suburb across America today, both in our hearts and in our minds. My wordsmith friend Sallie once told me that "responsibility" really was "response ability"—we have the ability to respond to a situation with dignity, open-mindedness, kindness, honesty and grace. I think those are real American values that we can use, and learn from.

Quite possibly I'm over thinking it, but it was worth a shot. And, a Netflix rental if you've not seen it. I didn't reveal anything that won't unfold within minutes of the opening credits anyway, except for a few opinions that are based on nothing more than life experiences and semi-critical thinking. Oh, and yes, I cried this time, too. Revealed that one just to level the playing field.

We're all human. At least that much is black and white.


Image courtesy of phlog that

On the Job

The weather forecasters predicted that we would get 6-12" of snow starting at 6 pm last night. They made a huge deal about how bad the commute would be last night, and again this morning.

They, once again, were wrong. Even Tom Skilling on WGN was all mixed up! Who can you trust?!

We awoke to find nothing more than some wet pavements, light sleet and heavy winds. Not the huge snowfall they'd promised (or scared us with).

It got me thinking. What other jobs can you be so bad at, and wrong so much of the time, and yet still get paid? I recall a story about the mayor in Moscow declaring that he was going to begin fining the weathermen if they were wrong, to raise funds for more weather data centers. A little harsh, but hey, it's Russia.

Seems like kindof a keen idea. Hold people accountable. I know that if I were completely unprepared and incorrect in fulfilling the entirety of my job description, I'd be looking elsewhere for employment.

And, while on the topic of jobs, employment and total failures, I was thinking about how strange it would be to be the current President of the United States. Politics aside (sortof), President Bush has been doing a job for a little over 7 years now. For the next 10 months he has to (or rather, gets to?) watch others battle ferociously for his job.

Wouldn't that be awkward in the typical office situation?

Sure, take my job. Battle that guy for it. Spend all your money doing it, and make a fool of yourself once or twice along the way. Heck, drag your entire families through the mud while you're at it. Don't sleep for nearly a year, and travel on huge busses, planes and trains to every small dinky little town in America, pretending you care (or know where the heck you are). Watch as your former classmates, lovers, roommates, and distant family members unveil your dirty little secrets and shed light on all of the skeletons in your closet. Pack all of your things, and just move right in. To my office, and my home. Kick me completely to the curb.

Just take my job. Please?

The "please" is how I assume President Bush must feel. At least the election takes the spotlight, and some of the pressure, off of him.

For now.

At least until his next live (candid or otherwise) speech.

Superlative Party

In the wake of the SUPER Bowl, and with today being SUPER Tuesday and FAT Tuesday, I started thinking...

...it seems that we like to label things with superlatives. Especially the days of the week.

Tuesday is not enough. Gotta make it SUPER. Sunday is plain Jane; let's call it Sunday FUNDAY. And, who can forget the lovely HUMPDAY for Wednesday.

Thursday gets a little left out of this mix, but it is the eve of the weekend, so we'll forgive.

And, since Friday and Saturday are officially the weekend, they are good enough, strong enough, and gosh darnit people like them. Even without the fancy labels.

(Saturday did get a little love in the Bay City Rollers song, and in "Old School" with SA-TUR-DAY! chants).

But, what about Monday? Does it ever get any appreciation? Hardly. More like negative vibes all around. MOODY Monday.

That's all I got. You?

[Defensive side note: I do recognize how lame this post was considering all the political stuff I could have written about, but I figured all of you could find plenty of that over at CNN.com and MSNBC.com. And the news. All day. Where do you go to find the dumb, random, wild and silly thoughts? Here. Thought so. And, yes, I voted today. SUPER.]

This is What it is About?

Wow. See soapbox. Step up on soapbox. Say your peace.

From CNN.com today: "Black women voters face tough choices: Analysts say black women never have held such power in determining the Democratic nominee for president. Black women are expected to make up more than a third of all Democratic voters in South Carolina's primary in five days. These women face a unique dilemma: Should they vote their race, or should they vote their gender?"

Here's an idea: vote for the candidate that is best suited to run this country?

Just my two cents.

Dismount soapbox.

Speaking of Munchkins

Before I post this, I want to put this disclaimer out there:

I know that Senator McCain was a POW. I know he was tortured and cruelly treated and is a decorated U.S. war hero. I am not trying to be insensitive to that at all, or take anything away from what he clearly endured.

I'm just saying that his arms are short.

And, color me naive, but I don't believe that even breaking your arms, or other horrific torturous situations, can actually shorten (in exact proportion to the other) your arms.

Ok. There. On to the intended post, which was pulled down (Catholic guilt) and then now is getting re-posted by popular demand (satirical, funny friends' encouragement).

I was watching TV the other night and noticed that John McCain's arms are really short. I mean, super compact. Awkwardly disproportionate to his body. Apparently this is common knowledge, and fodder for late-night comedians, but I had never noticed.

I am actually surprised he can even reach into his pockets at all...

...though that is where the campaign funding is found.

For reference, and your own guilty pleasure (Catholic or otherwise), please see for yourself:

I'm likely going to hell for this. I'll borrow Dorothy's handbasket.

Victorious!

In a photo finish, the Chicago transit bill passed yesterday and, despite the Governor's attempt to slow things down, the city is celebrating today.

At least the 250,000 riders that would have had to find other modes of transportation each day.

I know that I'm one of them. Three miles down Lake Shore Drive is a long hike in subzero temps. And stileto boots.

Yeah! More complaints to come. Stay tuned...and in the meantime, help a girl out and someone...

PLEASE WASH THE BUSES!

I can't even recognize where we are on the drive anymore because they are so dirty.

See?

I'm back. Commuting fodder carries on.

All Aboard, Auntie Em

Sales Tax and Seniors and Funding, oh my!

It seems that The Wizard, er, Governor Blagojevich has hastily added free CTA rides for seniors to the newly passed legislation to fund the transit organization in peril.

This last minute, politically motivated add-on will inevitably stimy the bill's passing, and will result in not only a sales tax increase, but also a proposed fare increase for CTA riders.

Exactly who does that help?

I know, I know. Pay no attention to the politician behind the curtain.

Only in Chicago. There's no place like home.