Ode to the DNC

I won’t talk too much about politics on here (that’s more of Chet’s thing), but now that the Democratic National Convention has come to a close, I’d like to say a few things.

- I’m kind of sick of how people like me are being categorized in the mainstream media. I’m 22, which makes me one of those “young voters” we hear so much about. Unfortunately, contrary to CNN’s belief, I’m not in awe of Barack Obama. I mean, he’s a fine speaker. An excellent one, even. But I’m not going to vote for him because of his speaking ability, so please stop lumping me together with every other 18 to 25 year old in our country, okay? Thanks.

- I actually am not a big fan of change. I’m pretty sure I’ve made that abundantly clear. So although rhetorically Obama’s messaging is fabulous (seriously, give his campaign a gold medal), I think it might be time to switch tactics. Sure, some change is good. But I don’t really have a need for some ambiguous change that's not even guaranteed to occur. See, I learned this in logic class: it's hard to guarantee something difficult to define. So don't try to convince me otherwise. It won't work.

- I’m a woman, which the mainstream media thinks must mean I’m a pro-choice feminist. Shockingly, they’re wrong again. I am sick and tired of all women being lumped together with Hilary's pantsuits; since when do we all believe the same thing? In fact, Katie Couric, come on down to Tallahassee, where most of the women I know are adamant in their stance that human life is sacred. Believing abortion is wrong or that it’s okay to stay home with your kids doesn’t make me less of a feminist. Maybe it actually makes me more of one. What an appalling concept.

- Hollywood, no one really cares what you think about politics. We all know you that most of you are pretty clueless about real-world issues since you live in houses about five times the size of ours. Don’t worry, though, because thanks to you, I’m now aware that the Democratic Party and the DNC are way hip and cool. ‘Cause, you know, that’s important when picking the next leader of the free world. Please, do me a favor, and just promote your latest film. I’ll gladly listen to you then. You do your job, and I’ll do mine.

- Republicans, I hope you were watching this week. The Democrats really know how to throw a party (see point above). I’m not quite sure how you’re going to overcome the old, white man stereotype when that’s exactly what you’ve got running for President, but you’ve got to give it your best shot. You’ve got a lot to beat, but with some effort, you can do it. Yes! You! Can!

JUMP!

“Jump, and you will find out how to unfold

your wings as you fall.”

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Ray Bradbury’s quote hangs in my office (I’m sorry… cubicle), but truthfully, it should probably hang somewhere in my bedroom. There’s never a real need to “jump” in the office, to take a leap into some unknown black abyss. In my personal life outside the 8 to 5, however… The opportunity to jump occurs with often frightening regularity. The problem is that I’m not sure just how often I take the leap.

Maybe it's time I started doing it a little more frequently.

God and Rainy Days

It’s raining today. A blustery kind of day, much like the one these fashionable ladies endured. Unfortunately I have no rhythm or Gene Kelly, and I have to be at work. Not exactly classic movie material. I really don’t mind it too much, except I was looking forward to moving some more stuff into the apartment tomorrow. Oh well. It’s obvious that tropical storm Fay has other plans, so my own will have to be put on hold (seems like that’s happening a lot lately).

Maybe, though, this rainy weekend will give me the rest I’ve lacked the past couple of weeks. The thought of snuggling into my pj’s and enjoying my favorite movies sounds pretty wonderful. Plus the rain and I have always had a pretty nice relationship. I love the sound it makes, the way it puts me to sleep and makes me feel at peace. God has a nice way of speaking to me in the rain. Which reminds me…

This week I came across the blog of a friend of a friend, which then led me to a blog made entirely of a mother’s letters to her unborn little girl. I thought it was such a sweet concept, and then as I began reading, I realized that this little girl is suffering from a severe birth defect. The faith of her two parents was evident in the blogs I read, and I sat at my desk in awe of their amazing trust in God. I thought about the times in the past two weeks I’ve complained or asked God what He was thinking. I’ve really questioned Him lately; I’ve been confused by His plan for me, the plan that I can’t see. Yet my own questions are so small in comparison to what these parents must want answered.

These parents are facing these huge obstacles, but their faith is growing stronger; you can read it and almost see it forming. They're quietly confident in their Lord, in the fact that He might take their little girl—His little girl—to be home with Him. That kind of faith... It leaves me almost speechless. I want that kind of faith. The kind of faith that strengthens even in the midst of rain.

Oh, Olympiad...

I am in love. With the Olympics.

I have been for quite some time. In 1996, I raced around my house, jumping on beds, pretending I was Dominique Moceanu. I read the biography of the Magnificent Seven after they won gold. I watched Ian Thorpe conquer the pool in 2000. In 2004, I joined my fellow Faulkner freshmen in the girls' dorm lobby between classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of an American on the medal stand.

In 2008, I'm still in awe. Michael Phelps by one-hundredth of a second. Dana Torres at 41. Usain Bolt and his long legs. Nastia's grace. Shawn's power. I love it all. Just ask my boss, who I'm sure is wondering why there are bags under my eyes and my productivity is dwindling.

I've even begun to think of my life in terms of the Olympiad. Every four years my life is totally different. In '96, I was enjoying the carefree life of a ten year old, thinking that despite my lack of talent, I might actually be capable of a gold on the balance beam. In 2000, I was starting high school, looking up facts about the Thorpedo on my high school computer. In 2004, I was starting college, and in 2008, I'm engaged and planning a wedding.

So where will I be in 2012? I'll tell you where I'd like to be. In London, experiencing the Olympics live. I'll keep my fingers crossed.