Seeing the (Cocktail) Glass as Half-Full This Thanksgiving

As we draw near the consumption of massive amounts of food, oversharing of personal problems, imbibing copious bevvies, and festival of emotional scars that is known as Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for having my email hacked.

Don't get me wrong, it was a massive pain in the butt and really what I didn't need at the end of an 11 hr workday on Friday before being doomed to work all day on Saturday, but having my email hacked actually turned out to be one of those "It's a Wonderful Life" moments. Now before you think I've enjoyed way too much bourbon this evening, hear me out.

Let me set the scene. It is important to know that I have been having a massive self pity party and freakout over employment issues. With an imminent hellish commute looming over my head and what appears to be my complete inability to get anyone to actually consider me for employment that I think I would enjoy, I've been very woe-is-me-ish, not sleeping, anxiety ridden, and generally being a big whiny baby. And of course, eating my feelings and having my waistline and circumference of my ass pay the price. Then two things happened at the end of last week that reminded me of some of the many things I have to be thankful for: the retirement party for the best boss I've ever had and my email was hacked.

First, the retirement. Although I still find it difficult that he actually retired, my former boss actually ended what has been a spectacularly dedicated career. I'm really a bit of a dork about this man and drove myself to the brink of insanity and exhaustion to try to be worthy of his respect and trust. And this is despite the fact that he is the only man I've worked for or with who actually made me cry in his presence. I've never wanted to be "that girl" but somehow my lacrimal glands are tied to my emotions of anger and massive embarrassment. Thus, when he had me working like 11 days in a row and wanted me to try to call a meeting of people way more important than me the day before  Thanksgiving to tell them that he was throwing out everything they had written and doing the damn project himself and I meekly said that this would be next to impossible and probably not the best course of action, and he let loose, I got all weepy. Then, massively embarrassed, I turned bright red. That's the other "charming" thing I do - blush hideously red for prolonged amounts of time for what appear to be no reason whatsoever.

But that was one incident and the fact that I not only survived it but I'd like to think I managed to  make him never think twice about hiring me, makes me so happy that I was able to work for him not just once but twice. He taught me more than any other boss, mentor, or colleague and always took time to ask about my family and remember details of little stuff that you'd think someone that busy wouldn't have time for--all of these things make me very devoted to him. So when he retired, to see him recognized, to chat with him and his family again, and to get to see so many wonderful old colleagues and friends, this was a very moving experience. People I hadn't seen in ages were all in one room, gathered to honor the same man and take time out of busy days to recognize what he's given to his job and to his country. Plus there was free wine.

And that brings me to the hacking. So yeah, Friday totally sucked. I worked forever and it was doing stuff I didn't want to do, all with the knowledge I'd be back there again on Saturday and all for a job that is going to force me back into a commute that I sworn to give up. Then I find out my email had been hacked. Moment of truth, yes I had clicked on the link when I got an email from a friend that looked slightly suspicious but advertised itself as a news article on where to find the best jobs. I thought this was one of those moments where I'd read this article and suddenly figure out what I was going to do for the rest of my life. Or at least the next year or so.

I'm one of those people who never cleans out her closets, never throws away old theater programs or tickets from events, and certainly never cleans out her email contact list. Which means that when I clicked on that email and my email was hacked, a few hundred people --some of whom I hadn't spoken to in years and some of whom I never wanted to speak to again--all got the same fakeass article from "me." It was massively humiliating as when I looked at my contact list I did in fact find several insane men I dated (like the guy that I think was satanic and talked about poop, DJ 3-Way, and the cutest boy with the weirdest name - see Deal With the Devil, A Brief Period of Normalcy with a Side of Squeamishness, and They Don't Make Phone Booths Anymore for more details).

The thing is that it actually ended up being kinda cool. I talked to people I hadn't talked to in ages - like my first real boss (as in post-college first grown-up job) who moved south after retirement a few years ago. He always bought the best birthday cakes, laughed hysterically at those annoying hamster toys that danced when you squeezed their foot, and was just generally a really, really good guy. My college advisor also got in touch; she is the one who gave me the medieval helmet/incense burner that I still have and who inspired me to think about the lives and needs of peoples far beyond America's borders. Old colleagues and teammates who've moved far and wide and still call me by silly nicknames. Plus, the nicest guy who I dated ages ago--the one who gave me an Easter basket on our 2nd date and let me massacre his transmission trying to teach me to drive stick.

I highly recommend the experience. I mean, yeah of course it freaks me out and I'm still a little worried about my accounts and stuff, but it made me realize how rich my life has actually been. How many lives I've been blessed to be a part of, to share in their stories and have them share in mine.

It can be so easy to get wrapped up in our problems, to only see all the things we "have" to do, and wish that our lives were different. If this were an Olympic sport I'd have at least a silver medal. However, there are times where we get these little windows into our lives. Where we can see how all of the decisions and moments--good and not so good--how those make us who we are. Where we can step back and remember all the people who've wandered into and out of our lives--whether by choice or by fate--and be truly thankful for each and every one of them.

As you gather with family, friends, or however you choose to spend this Day of Thanks, please know that you are among the blessings that I count. Those of you who I get to see frequently, those I haven't seen in years, and those precious, precious ones who I won't see again my journey has come to an end--it is for you that I give thanks. Happy Thanksgiving to my dear, sweet friends and family. Even as we drive each other crazy, let's always bee grateful that at least we have company on the ride.

Now let's put on our eating pants and get down to business.

Are We There Yet?!?

If you're like me, you are unable to watch anything on TV other than old episodes of Alias (yes, I still have a crush on Michael Vartan) or Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (yes, I not-so-secretly hope that they will reunite, make over my wardrobe, house, and life and become my new best friends) because you are avoiding seeing ads and smear campaigns from political super PACs and are just fed up with the whole election. I mean seriously, we've had eleventy billion Republican primary debates, presidential and VP debates, town halls, and stump speeches galore, and now these ads.

The majority of the ads seem designed by people who believe that Americans are too wrapped up in their own lives to actually read about what a candidate stands for, the legislation and positions for which the candidate has advocated, or what a proposition actually says. These ads prey upon people's worst fears, promising doom and gloom if the opposition wins, and hoping that those same people won't do the slightest bit of research to see that the bulk of these ads are complete crap. Even the background music is cheesily ominous while the soundbites and slogans make it appear that the people disagreeing with the ads and positions aren't actual people at all. Instead, anyone who thinks differently is to be mocked and dismissed as ignorant.

I dearly hope they are wrong and that people actually take the time to read about all the various candidates and ballot measures before they head to the polls.

But here's the thing, the fact that I can even write about being fed up with the election makes me disappointed in myself. For how can I be fed up with democracy? Sure, it's messy and it doesn't always work out like I think it should but men and women fought and died for me to have the right  to sit here in my living room, ignoring robo-calls, whining about TV ads and complaining about lines at the polls. I need to remind myself that it wasn't that long ago that tenacious and driven women were imprisoned, disowned by their families, degraded and denigrated, and physically assaulted all to earn this right to vote that so many of us--myself included--take for granted.

So although I really want the people who have the same positions I do to be the ones that show up in larger numbers tomorrow, I really just want everyone who is able to vote to get off their butts and do so. Vote for the places where people aren't allowed to vote at all --whether it's because they have no electricity at their polling stations or they live in a country where their rights are ignored or repressed by their own governments. Vote because you can.

Voting is a right that comes with responsibilities. There are the responsibilities to educate yourself about the issues at hand and make the decision for yourself rather than letting someone make that decision for you. But what is less expressed is the responsibility to recognize that your fellow citizens have the right to vote as they choose and that their choices don't make them inherently bad people; they just have different preferences and priorities. They have as much right to their voice and their decision as you do. America is a richer nation because of the fact that we can express different opinions and believe different things. And although I may disagree vehemently with the political decisions of my neighbors, friends, or family, I would defend with my last breath their right to believe what they want and express that at the polls.

I was reminded of the dangers of demonizing people with different political convictions at service yesterday. The minister talked for a while about democracy, about the choices that were laid out before us, and about the need to respect our fellow citizens and not label them as "the other side." She quoted Alice Walker, saying "if you want to show your love for America, love Americans... Love us. We are the Flag."

She reminded us of the principles that we hold dear: the worth and dignity of every person; equality, justice, and compassion; accepting one another and encouraging each other in spiritual growth; freely and responsibly searching for truth and meaning in this life; the right of conscience and democratic processes; peace, liberty, and justice for our neighbors and beyond; and respect for the interdependence of this world.

I will do my best to remember these things as I watch the returns come in tomorrow night, biting my nails and probably sipping some very fine American bourbon whilst I tweet the night away and become alternately entertained or incensed by what I see on this fascinating thing called the Internet. I will be glad that it is finally over and so profoundly grateful that I was able to go into that booth and make my choices.