Monday, December 19, 2011

On the end of an era (mostly)....



There are a lot of Christmas songs that I love. I made a playlist the other day on Spotify of just a few of my favorites (and I even managed to miss one...The Happy Elf by Harry Connick, Jr.). But one of my favorites has a bit more meaning this year than it has in the past.

Happy Xmas (War Is Over). Obviously the original by John Lennon is far superior to any cover out there, but I won't deny that I love the versions by Celine Dion and The Fray. Mostly, I think I just love the song.

I woke up on Sunday morning to AP news alerts on my phone that the last of the American troops had pulled out of Iraq. For a lot of reasons, I got very excited about this. It made me smile. All those soldiers coming home just in time for Christmas? That's pretty special, if you ask me. Then I looked at my Facebook and noticed that my uncle had posted a news story about this and all he said was, "Happy Christmas. War is over." and I just started singing. My uncle, being the world's biggest Beatles fan alive, didn't surprise me when he posted this. It just made me smile and sing.

Yes, there are several others wars that continue despite the end of the Iraq war...but we deal in baby steps with things like this. And just like when a baby takes a first step, we get excited...we envision the possibilities...we see the future and it's bright and happy and stable.

So this is Christmas. Let's hope it's a good one...

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Tuesday, December 13, 2011

On choosing differently....

People often ask the question, "If you could know everything about one thing, what would it be?" I've been asked that a lot. My answers tend to vary, but my standards are either dance or languages. I choose dance a lot because I love doing it and I love the way I feel when I'm dancing. Plus, because the Foxtrot is one of my favorites, I also get to listen to music I love while dancing. It's pretty much a win-win situation.

Languages, however, has a much deeper meaning than simply "because I like it." It has more to do with compassion and understanding that anything else.

The world is a big, fat, messed up place. There is absolutely no denying it. Despite all the wonderful things that happen all the time, there are just some really effed situations that are hard, impossible even, to ignore. And the reality, at least in my head, is that if we all just took the time to understand each other, things would be a lot different.

I hate the statement "War shouldn't happen." It's stupid. Why? Because the world is a fallen, failing place. And because of that, because of selfishness and greed, fights - even to the extent of war - are going to happen. It's because of that, that this statement is one of the most profound I've ever heard: Seek first not to be understood, but to understand.

There's a deep lack of communication that permeates the world. I'm exhausted of my culture pushing its American agenda on the rest of the world. We're a great country...I love my country. I really do. It's just that our ideology and our way of life simply cannot work for everyone. It won't. There are horrifying things that happen the world over. America is not immune from terrible acts of violence and disregard for its own people. We see it and hear about it all the time. So what right do we have to condemn and judge cultural behaviors around the world? No, we don't kill women over acts of adultery; but look at how we've treated the GLBT community for decades...decades! How is it different?

The fact of the matter is that when we refuse to listen, to communicate, to simply understand, we fall apart. I heard a story recently that was chock full of atrocities...and also one of the simplest acts of compassion I may have ever heard: a bottle of water. I can't, won't, and shouldn't go into great detail regarding the rest of the story; it's not mine to tell. What I do know is this: when a young woman watches someone murder another person for no apparent reason, and then offers that same tired and thirsty person a drink from a bottle of water, it gives me hope. It restores, even if momentarily, my faith in the human spirit. We are capable of compassion and of understanding...we just have to choose it.

This is why I choose "languages." I just want to sit and talk with people. I want to know people, to understand them...and I want them to know and understand me. It's amazing what a little effort can do. I don't want to push my agenda or have an agenda pushed on me...but maybe if we just took the time to understand the agenda, it would somehow become irrelevant.


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Saturday, December 10, 2011

On taking a giant step backwards....

Christmas is kind of an absurd time of year. It gets incredibly busy; extraordinary amounts of money are spent...on gifts and baking and electricity; churches practically go in to upheaval when it comes to Christmas productions and Advent Sundays and the like.

For me, Christmas has always been marked by these things. I love buying gifts for those I love and wrapping them in lovely paper and bows. If I could "replicate the intensity of the sun" on my tree and house, you better believe I would (can you say "Griswold Family Christmas"?)! My love of baking comes out in full force whereby I typically bake somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 cookies in one fell swoop. I've watched my church friends agonize over scheduling and participation and yadda yadda yadda.

Then there's the point at which I come unglued about the religiousity of it all. Christmas, after all, celebrates the birth of Christ. Or does it? Sure, advent celebrates all the reasons, big and small, that Christ came on down to our messed up world. But does Christmas, with all its spending and busyness and general insanity, really celebrate Christ? I'm not sure it does.

I read a blog recently about the entitlement of Christmas. I'll be the first one to admit that I've complained before about being told "Happy Holidays" rather than "Merry Christmas!" I don't like that Christmas plays and songs at most schools these days are now called "Holiday Plays/Songs." I think it's a little ridiculous. But it did make me think a little bit...why is it that I think I'm the only one entitled to have her religious holiday represented? What about Hanukkah? Or Kwanza? Or people who just aren't religious and simply want to have a day to celebrate friends and family and give each other pretty things? I talk a big game about not forcing religion down other people's throats, but isn't that exactly what I'm doing when I demand that people say "Merry Christmas!" to me or that there be a manger scene in front of city hall?

If you ask me, Christmas as we know it has far less to do with Christ than many of us Christians would have you believe. I'm all for the gifts and the lights and the music and the food, but would it kill me to step back and reflect, even for a moment, on the reasons Christ came to Earth, the manner in which He arrived, and His ultimate purpose in coming?

It won't be any time soon that I stop celebrating Christmas the way I always have, with all the insanity and lights. But maybe all of this is why I love Christmas Eve so much more than Christmas morning. The stress stops. The night calms down. Everything is finished. And I can go to midnight mass with nothing on my mind except the miracle of what happened so long ago. It's in the silentest of nights that I'm then able to sing about and reflect on the most holy of nights...

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Wednesday, December 7, 2011

On the most wonderful time of the year....

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?: Have to go with wrapping paper. Bags are sometimes necessary, but I love love love wrapping gifts and putting all the pretty bows all over them. It's really hard to beat!

2. Real or Artifical Tree?: I grew up with a real one so it's sentimental, but also a giant pain in the bum. Plus, a real tree costs every year what a fake one costs once and it'll last for, like, 50 years. Economics, people.

3. When do you put up the tree?: Day after Thanksgiving. Obviously. If I had my way, I'd put it up the second Santa rolls into Herald Square (there's a girl out there, K-Spence, who is after my own heart in this manner...and for that, I thank her!).

4. When do you take the tree down?: December 26-ish. It's just not Christmas anymore. I also don't listen to Christmas music after December 25th, despite my mother saying otherwise. She is wrong.

5. Do you like egg nog?: Yup. With or without brandy, it's frickin' delicious! I love the chubby holidays!!

6. Favorite gift received as a child?: That's a really hard one to say. I always loved the jammies my aunt would make for us every year. And once, I got the sheet music for The Little Mermaid soundtrack...that was pretty rad, especially since I got to play it all for the first time on my grandpa's big organ. Yes, I played Disney music on an organ. Go figure.

7. Hardest person to buy for?: My brother. No question about it. Every year, I ask what he wants and every year, he says, "I dunno. You're so good at choosing gifts, I'm sure whatever you get will be great!" Sheesh. It causes me great anxiety. He gave me a heads up this year, however. He wants an LP...yeah, like that won't be hard to find.

8. Easiest person to buy for?: Leo and Suki. Just some rawhide treats and a new collar and they are golden!

9. Do you have a nativity scene?: No, but I really want one. I'm holding out for the one my parents have, but they won't be giving it up any time soon. I'll have to pry it from their cold, dead hands.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?: When I do them, I do 'em right and send them in the mail. I love getting snail mail. It makes me feel special, so I figure other people must feel the same way as me!.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?: I can't answer that question. I don't think I've ever gotten a crappy gift. Unless it was white elephant, and then it's to be expected.

12. Favorite Christmas movie?: Either Muppet Christmas Carol or Love, Actually. Or The Holiday. Pretty much anything but It's A Wonderful Life. Gawd, I hate that movie.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?: I try to shop all year long to save myself the torture of the holidays at the mall. Usually I have everything done by late-November. I'm a bit behind the curve this year and still have some things I need to get. Ugh.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?: Yes, but it was legit. About a billion years ago, I got these giant stuffed animals...one was Flounder, another was Sebastian. I think I still have Flounder, but my teeny cousin also loved The Little Mermaid so a couple years ago, I went through all of my TLM stuff and sent it off to her...Sebastian was in the mix. She LOVED him!

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?: My dad's fruitcake. Put aside all your feelings regarding fruitcake, because my dad's is the shiz. OMG. It's so good, I actually asked him to make a tiny one for my birthday one year. Nomz.

16. Lights on the tree: All of the lights. All of them, ever. Last year, there was approx. 1000 twinkle lights on the tree. LOVE IT!!

17. Travel at Christmas or stay home?: As a kid, I used to go with my family to Illinois and Pennsylvania every year. By the time I turned 16, we started staying at home in Colorado and I've loved every second of it! I'd be okay with taking a vacation from Christmas for Christmas some year...going somewhere tropical and amazing for a week and just chilling. And there was the time we went to Paris for Christmas. That didn't suck.

18. Favorite Christmas song?: I have to categorize for this.

Favorite Traditional: It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

Favorite Campy: I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas

Favorite Pop: Colorado Christmas

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer?: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, Rudolph. Yes, I did that without looking it up.

20. Angel or Star tree topper?: Either is fine with me. I've had both. My friend has a disco ball right now, which is pretty much awesome. I don't care about the topper, so much as the tree topping ceremony!

21. Open presents on Christmas eve or morning?: It took 20 years, but we finally convinced my parents to let us open one small present on Christmas Eve. The rest we save for the morning. Santa comes in the night, after all!

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?: That retailers seem to think Christmas starts in October...or, God forbid, July. WTF? Can't we just let each holiday have their own time?

23. Favorite ornament?: My parents have this gorgeous blown glass ornament with a rose on it. My sister and I fight over who gets to hang that one every year. I love it! And since she doesn't live in town anymore, I got to hang it this year. SUCKA!

24. Favorite food for Christmas dinner?: Gravy. Yup, I love the gravy. My dad makes the best gravy known to man and he taught me how to make it. I started as gravy watcher, moved to gravy stirrer, then graduated to gravy taster, and have recently been promoted to gravy adviser. YESSS!!!

25. What do you want for Christmas this year?: A lot of things. Peace, love, and happiness most of all...for everyone. For always.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

On WINNING!....

I haven't won very many awards in my life. Most of the ones I have gotten were from high school. Some were awesome and some were just plain weird. There was the National School Choral Award (or something) which was a super huge deal and I cried when I won it. Then there was the one I got for going to same school for 14 years. Kind of weird. There were four of us that got the same award at our high school graduation. I got one for being the "Most Improved Student" and to this day, I have no idea why I got that award considering my grades were abysmal at best my senior year. I got nominated to NHS, which is pretty big deal...managed to do that in high school and in college.

But one of the best awards I've ever gotten, I got about a month ago, along with all of my amazing co-workers. It's called the "Cal Bears Teamwork" award and we won it for generally being awesome. There's something really special about being nominated for an award by your peers and superiors. Knowing that someone else thinks our entire little group is that good at what we do is empowering. We all love what we do. Our clients are great, our teams are fun and diverse, and on any given day we're all really happy coming in and doing our jobs. But it's also nice, from time to time, to have your work recognized and, well, appreciated. It feels really good knowing that someone else sees what you do and wants to commend you for it. Now, granted, I've only been at this job for just over four months, so my co-workers definitely deserved the award way more than I did, but it still felt really fantastic to be part of such a great team that day. It feels great to be a part of this every day, frankly.

Yes, that's an award. Yes, that's a cowbell.

And to quote my co-worker who won another award the same night: "It's easy to be this kind of employee when you work with people who already think that you are."

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Monday, December 5, 2011

On the most hilarious annual fight....

My dad's handmade Christmas village.


As pretty much everyone in my life is aware, I am absolutely bonkers about Christmas. I love the lights and the smells and the sounds. I even kind of like the cold weather, but only very slightly. Why can't there be snow on the ground and the air still be 65*F?

Part of what I love so much is the tradition of it all. There are so many things that I grew up doing that have sort of become second nature when it comes to Christmas. And like with other things in my life, it's hard to choose a favorite tradition, but there is one that I love because it's so funny.

The yearly fight over Christmas Soup.

My dad makes this amazing spicy potato soup at Christmastime every year. It's one of the best soups I think he's ever made. We call it our Christmas soup because it's got red and green bell pepper in it. But that's where the fight begins. See, he never makes the soup during the rest of the year. Only at Christmastime. There's a huge debate every year over when, exactly, we should eat the soup. Some of us believe it's on Christmas afternoon, for lunch (my dad and sister are in this camp) and some of us insist that it's for Christmas Eve dinner, before watching Muppet Christmas Carol and heading to midnight mass (my brother, mom, and I are in this camp and are clearly correct).

"Why the hell would we have such a huge lunch on Christmas Day when we're about to eat a massive dinner at 4pm?" I ask every year.

"Because 'dinner' should be at 6pm!" my dad retorts.

"Wrong! Christmas dinner is at 4pm! And I'm tired of having to wait 500 hours to open presents! We should just get to come downstairs and tear into the tree! None of this fancy-breakfast-tea nonsense! I want presents!" ....that, ladies and gentlemen, is my mother. Every. Single. Year.

So the debate rages on despite the fact that I have categorical proof that Christmas Eve Soup is made and served on *gasp* Christmas Eve. I even have non-ReadClan members that can attest to Christmas Eve Soup being, in fact, a Christmas Eve tradition. Those people have probably been party to the fight before.

So while it may seem strange that a fight is one of my favorite Christmas traditions, it is true. I love that fight. It usually results in all of us laughing hysterically, even if my dad does end up storming out of the kitchen at some point (we think that's done in jest, but it's hard to know). My family has never been a family that fights during holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas are two of my favorite days of the year, simply because I often get to spend it with my family...a group of people that, despite the craziness and differences and annoyances, gets along remarkably well most of the time. We dig each other and part of that comes from these ridiculous traditions that have seeped into the deep recesses of our family and come out at just the right moments...

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On purple mountain's majesty....


I'm a Colorado girl, through and through. Born and raised in (or around) Denver, I've had some pretty fantastic experiences with this city and those gorgeous mountains out to the West. I can't remember a day of my life that I haven't woken up to see the mountains. It's the beauty of living so close to them. You'd think by now, 30+ years later, I'd be so used to seeing the mountains that I'm bored of them. That's simply not the case. Every morning I drive to work, I glance to my left and am all but blown away by how beautiful the mountains are. It takes quite a bit of will power not to pull my car over and start taking photos. Yes, this happens pretty much every morning. It's a battle of wills...do I stop to take pictures or do I get to work on time?

It's hard to choose a favorite memory involving the mountains. Frankly, there are just too many to choose from. Between camping, hiking, skiing, and day trips, it's too hard to choose just one.

But there is one that stands out and has for quite some time.

Several years ago, I went skiing with my dad. Just him and me, on the hill. It had been years since we'd gone skiing and I was desperate to go so with enough begging, he agreed to come with me. My dad taught me how to ski when I was about three years old, in our back yard, on tiny plastic red skis. When I was big enough, he took me to the mountains, shoved me in a class for the morning, and I fell in love.

My dad is a brilliant skier. Always has been, as far as I'm concerned. And I trust him intrinsically. So when we hit the hills on the last day of the season (yay, Spring Skiing!), I asked him - either bravely or stupidly - to take me down my first double black.

See, I'm kind of a pansy when it comes to skiing. I hate falling (mostly because getting up is a nightmare) and I'd really just rather have fun and be safe than go crazy and get killed. Black runs have never been my thing. I'm the only person I know who feels that way. So asking my dad to take me on this run was a big step forward for me. And I knew, without a doubt, that he'd coach me down the hill without getting frustrated and without me having a panic attack.

But there was another reason I wanted to hit that run. At the very top of the lift, there's a hell of a catwalk (the bain of every skiers existence), but that cat walk runs directly across the Continental Divide. From there, you can see for a million miles. You can see another FOUR ski resorts. You can practically see God from up there. That view alone was (and still is) worth every terrifying moment of skiing down the hill. I mean really...is there anything more exhilarating than being on the very top of a mountain? Even for me, the eternal adrenaline junkie, nothing quite compares to that feeling or that view.

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