apropos of anything

(Seriously, I know… months of radio silence on this blog and now I’ve got 1500+ words on a TELEVISION SHOW? I had to write this out, though, to remember it, to finish thinking about it, and perhaps this is the kick in the pants I need to get back to blogging regularly.)

Two Decembers ago, Alicia put season one of Battlestar Galactica on my coffee table and promised me I’d love it. I didn’t disagree; from everything I’d heard about the series, it seemed right up my alley. What I didn’t expect was how MUCH I’d love it when I finally got around to watching it the following February — the last time I fell so hard for a story was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

(warning: spoilers for BSG the entire series and specifically the series finally after the cut)

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Obama signs executive order to close Guantanamo Bay.

I am so proud of him, and of us for having faith in him.

I know that I have higher hopes for our 44th president, Barack Hussein Obama, than I have had for any other president that I can remember. Julia and I watched the inauguration from the bridge that spans the two towers of the CNN Center; the atrium directly below us was full to bursting with people who’d opted not to deal with the frigid temperatures at the outdoor Centennial Olympic park viewing, and every time Barack Obama appeared on the giant HD TV, the crowd roared like their football team had just scored the winning touchdown. It was amazing, just a little piece of the emotion that must have been happening in D.C. at that exact moment, but from the familiarity of my office, where I have experienced almost every significant event over the last eight years and the most fitting place for me to be to usher in the Obama era of hope and change.

I know he’s not magic, but he does make me believe that yes, he can, and yes, I can, and if we all give a little and work a lot we can dig ourselves out of this quagmire. I trust him, and I have faith in him, and I hope he starts his term tomorrow by coming out swinging.

I know that Geoff was absolutely right when he told me to see Slumdog Millionaire, even if I had to fly to New York to do it (and at the time, I would have). It’s a beautiful and heart-wrenching movie that stays with you, that reminds you of the tenacity of the human spirit, and above all else, makes you so grateful for having parents. For me specifically, the footage reminds me of how much I love Mumbai, flawed as it is, and also that from whom much has been given, much will be asked. They can’t touch me, we break our friends so fast they can’t even touch me…

I know that what’s happening in Gaza, what has been happening in Gaza for weeks now, makes my stomach churn. I don’t really care if you think Israel is right or if you think the Palestinians are right — surely you can agree that no human being should have to stand in line for hours simply to get a loaf of bread, or be terrified to go to the bathroom because there are rockets flying overhead. Surely you can agree that the aid workers need to be able to get back into Gaza because… but for the grace of God, that could be you or I.

I know that grapefruit cake is yummy, that I work with awesome people who put together amazing products with grace and style, and that I am looking forward to tomorrow.

It’s a blessing.

For saying things that need to be said:

Clean up the Afghan government, and the Taliban will fade away.

I hope people in our government are reading.

I don’t know why I couldn’t get this written on Thursday. I think the combination of getting sick last weekend and fasting this week has really clobbered me; I’ve come home every day this week near catatonic, often ending up asleep before 11 p.m.

Tonight, though, I napped in the car for an hour as we drove to Augusta for Eid-ul-Adha weekend, and now suddenly I am simultaneously exhausted and wide awake, thinking about blog posts I didn’t write. So… here we go.

1. The people at work. I’ve said it before, but really I am so lucky to be surrounded by so many smart, kick-ass, funny people all day at work. As stressful as my job can be sometimes, if I had to do it with people I had less fun with, I don’t know that I’d be able to manage.

2. One day at a time. The things you think you can’t do, you can, so long as you do it one day at a time. And the things you can’t handle, you can, because you do it one day at a time, and God promised He will never give you more than you can take, which means you’re really stronger than you think you are.

3. Electrolytes. Because without them, you’d die.

… I am simultaneously terrified of the third thing and ready for it to arrive already because at least then I’d know.

In Mumbai there is a hotel that sits on the water, near the financial district and the higher-end shopping, and as the Mumbaikers drive by they say proudly to the out-of-towners, that’s the Taj Hotel, it’s one of the highest-rated hotels in the world!

Tonight the Taj looked like this:

And I thought, oh no. Not again. Not my other city. Not the Taj, not the Oberoi, not Colaba where I go to buy shoes. I thought, I would like this to stop, please.

We called Mumbai, and they said they were fine. Holed up at home and not really wanting or allowed to leave, all the schools canceled and the majority of the businesses closed, but fine. And while I am so incredibly grateful that they are not hurt, and even more grateful that Mumbai is learning to keep its temper and no longer explodes in riots whenever something gets blown up, I still wish things did not blow up quite so often.

And really, I wish I could smash whatever gigantic chip these so-called Muslims have on their shoulders that they would hold a grudge for something, that while horrendous, happened in 1992. I am tired of Islam being the scapegoat for the actions of a handful of lunatics, and I resent those same lunatics for their continued insistence on upending lives and families for absolutely no reason at all. I want to line them all up and tell them, you’ve forgotten that God is watching because otherwise you would never have done this in His name, and how dare you. How dare you forget Him. How dare you do this.

Instead, I’m going to brace myself for the next time. And the next time. And to wonder, when I visit Mumbai again, how deep the scars from this latest bloodbath will be.

1. “We WANT our point back.” (pause) “Well, I suppose when you’re winning by SO MUCH, one point doesn’t really matter, right? Let’s give it to them.”

2. “I can’t believe you let me talk about a freaking air mattress for 15 minutes before you told me that.”

3. “400 cookies are for weenies. Next time we do 800!”

I really really love my friends.

President Obama. I am so excited, and teary, and just plain HAPPY. If only my computer weren’t horking so I could post a screenshot of that awesome, awesome homepage where they finally called it.

Update 11/5: Looks like my vote wasn’t counted last night. Maybe Georgia will go blue after all, or at least maybe we can get Saxby Chambliss out of the Senate. Still quite annoyed by this development.