Holiday Detente

I have to admit that I am not chock full of holiday spirit yet. Mainly I'm prepping for the epic bouts of road rage that will be consuming me after Tuesday as my commute increases exponentially. This was definitely not what I had in mind for an early Christmas present.

I'm also sick and tired of hearing about some nonexistent war on Christmas. No one has declared war on Christmas. When people say Happy Holidays, they're not telling you to stuff your hand in a meat grinder; they're telling you that they wish you happiness. When did that become a bad thing? Yes, I personally celebrate Christmas. Even though more often than not I'm at a Unitarian Universalist service or spending time with extended family and canines, I still pray and I still return to the holiday traditions I was reared with, although fortunately not the continued consumption of my mother's inedible Tuna Tree that she served one hellish Christmas eve.

But I don't get upset if other people don't celebrate Christmas. I certainly don't get upset if they're not celebrating it because it's not a part of their faith or even if they just don't like Christmas. I can't understand how you would not like Christmas--the amount of crap you get to eat and drink PLUS really cheesy movies PLUS I actually like some of the music PLUS I usually get to see family and friends I haven't seen in a long time PLUS I get to ride in a Honda with Santa (played by my brother), driven by a clown (my sister), and crammed into the back with fellow elves (niece and nephew and friend). However, just because I can't understand why you wouldn't love Christmas doesn't mean I don't support someone's decision to believe or not believe what they choose.

That's what this country was founded on - not the idea that we all had to believe the same things, like the same things, do the same things. That would be craptastically boring. And authoritarian. You can have strong faith, express that faith, and still be respectful of others' rights to live their lives in accordance with their beliefs. It is only the weak who need to bring someone else down, to attack someone else to make themselves feel stronger, more justified, more righteous.

As part of the freelance ghost writing I've been doing I've been learning a lot about the presidents for this historical humor project. I learned last night that John Quincy Adams (himself a devout Unitarian minister) refused to be sworn in as president using a Bible. Not because he didn't believe or because he thought the Bible was wrong. He didn't use it because this country had been recently founded (he was only our 6th President) and he very well understood the importance of religious freedom in the U.S. He chose to be sworn in using a copy of the U.S. Constitution. To remind himself of audacious goals this country had, "to form a more perfect union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity."

So throughout this wonderful time of year, I'll keep in mind the real "reason for the season." Not to exclude others, become angry when they don't think or talk like me, and not to judge how other people live their lives. Jesus said "Love one another as I have loved you." I missed the part where that meant fly off into a spittle-spraying rage if someone doesn't say Merry Christmas.

For those of you who are still reading and haven't given up in disgust at my lack of holiday cheer, do not fear. All the decorations are coming out today - including the 2 foot tall doll of Bing Crosby, dressed as Santa, holding a pipe and  microphone, and crooning his little plastic heart out. And yes my nativity scene too. Because today I will kick off the Christmas season with one of the people responsible for the awesomesauce Bing doll as we watch crappy Christmas movies to our hearts' content (see Hapless Holidays for more of my obsession with shmaltzy holiday flicks), drink Fall Classic Cocktails (mmmmmmmm) and snuggle with Charlie.

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.