Just So We're Clear

 

If I hear "what the American people want" one more time, I'm going to...insert hyperbole/expletive here

Just so we're clear, I thought I'd let you know what this American wants:

• I want my husband to have a job lined up when his expires at the end of this month.
• I want our savings to be savings, not living expenses.
• I want to be able to refinance our education loans to a reasonable interest rate so we're able to pay them off before we retire.
• I want you to pass legislation that encourages jobs and growth.
• I want you to pass legislation that takes care of those in need, and weans those in want.
• I want you to be nice.
• I want you to remember that although it's only natural to believe that your idea is the best idea, it's not the only idea.
• I want you to listen when others talk.
• I want you to to respect your office and the offices of others.
• I want you to act in the best interest of the country, not just your state, or your constituents.
• The only time I want you to use "us" and "them" is when referring to "Americans" and "Terrorists".
• I want you to remember you're there because a majority of us put you there.
• I want you to remember that your job is not to keep your job or to ensure that someone else doesn't keep his.

That's our job.

I know you've got a lot on your plates so thank you for listening.  Carry on.

Here It Is, Your Moment of Zen...

This would be mine

The Problem

The Solution

Possibly my Favorite

Clever!

(but not usually at the same time)

Photos compiled by The Huffington Post.  There are more than 400 more posted here.  Make sure to take a look.

Stay Sane, America!

To Always Remember

My first "I remember where I was" moment occurred when the Challenger exploded just after take-off. It was January 1986. A nor'easter was blowing into Massachusetts and my school closed early to make sure everyone got home safely. A bunch of us rented some movies and headed to my friend, Joe's house to watch. One movie was Thief of Hearts. I can't remember the other one.

My friend Michele called her father to tell him where she was. I can remember her saying, 'What?!" and to us, "the shuttle exploded! Turn on the TV!"

There are others now. But nine years ago,

I was sitting in my office in Andover and Andy called me when he got into his office in Cambridge. He commented he'd just heard on the radio that someone had just flown into the World Trade Center. We both thought it was some poor idiot in a Cesna. We both thought it was an accident. We hung up and I ambled into my boss, Lee's office and told her. She tried to get onto CNN.com and couldn't. Then another co-worker ran in to say a second plane had just hit the other tower.

Not an accident. An attack.

We were in a new building and didn't have a TV so all over, small groups of people gathered around small images on computer monitors. Every time someone managed to get some news, it spread as horrible rumors through the office. As we learned about Flight 93, my friend, June got a panicked, crying call from her college-aged son. His dad was flying back from PA today. Had she heard from him? She had not but later learned, thank God, he was not aboard that flight.

Finally, Lee and I left the building to run to a local Best Buy to get a TV. Going home would take too long. It was in Lee's Jeep that we heard that the first tower had fallen. We saw the second tower fall standing among strangers in front of a big-screen TV in Best Buy.

We spent a longer while at work, eventually leaving to watch the horror unfold from the comfort of our own homes. There, I pleaded with Andy to leave the job he had just started a few weeks before. He worked in Kendall Square, where MIT is located. I was sure if there were more attacks "they" would target the academic centers soon.

He didn't leave until 5:00 and was home in record time. No one was on the roads. He found me in front of the TV exactly where I had landed when I arrived home hours before. We watched more. We headed to his mom's to wish her a happy birthday - yeah, 9/11 bummer. More TV, bed, God-Bless-America-sex, sleep.

In the morning, we woke up back to the bad dream that was our new reality.

To Always Remember

Reposted from last year...

My first "I remember where I was" moment occurred when the Challenger exploded just after take-off. It was January 1986. A nor'easter was blowing into Massachusetts and my school closed early to make sure everyone got home safely. A bunch of us rented some movies and headed to my friend, Joe's house to watch. One movie was Thief of Hearts. I can't remember the other one. My friend Michele called her father to tell him where she was. I can remember her saying, 'What?!" and to us, "the shuttle exploded! Turn on the TV!"

There are others now. But seven years ago,

I was sitting in my office in Andover and Andy called me when he got into his office in Cambridge. He commented he'd just heard on the radio that someone had just flown into the World Trade Center. We both thought it was some poor idiot in a Cesna. We both thought it was an accident. We hung up and I ambled into my boss, Lee's office and told her. She tried to get onto CNN.com and couldn't. Then another co-worker ran in to say a second plane had just hit the other tower.

Not an accident. An attack.

We were in a new building and didn't have a TV so all over, small groups of people gathered around small images on computer monitors. Everytime someone managed to get some news, it spread as horrible rumors through the office. As we learned about Flight 93, my friend, June got a panicked, crying call from her college-aged son. His dad was flying back from PA today. Had she heard from him? She had not but later learned, thank God, he was not aboard that flight.

Finally, Lee and I left the building to run to a local Best Buy to get a TV. Going home would take too long. It was in Lee's Jeep that we heard that the first tower had fallen. We saw the second tower fall standing among strangers in front of a big-screen TV in Best Buy.

We spent a longer while at work, eventually leaving to watch the horror unfold from the comfort of our own homes. There, I pleaded with Andy to leave the job he had just started a few weeks before. He worked in Kendall Square, where MIT is located. I was sure if there were more attacks "they" would target the academic centers soon.

He didn't leave until 5:00 and was home in record time. He found me in front of the TV exactly where I had landed when I arrived home hours before. We watched more. We headed to his mom's to wish her a happy birthday - yeah, 9/11 bummer. More TV, bed, God-Bless-America-sex, sleep.

In the morning, we woke up back to the bad dream that was our new reality.

One Giant Leap

Forty years ago today, I was 10 months and 11 days old. My sister, Danni was two years and 13 days. And our parents got us out of bed so that we could watch Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walk on the moon.
Human beings were born to explore, to discover. It seems so often the only time the world shares a moment is in time of tragedy. I wish I could remember that day, that moment. To feel the wonder, the awe and the pride that we as Americans - as humans, felt.

I hope to share that same feeling and the belief that anything is possible with my children. Thank you for sharing with me, Mom and Dad.

We came in peace for all mankind.

Preaching, from the Converted

Last April, I wrote my own little Op-Ed in which I lambasted a Boston Globe reporter for his assertion that we should all choose Barack Obama as the Democratic Nominee based on the fact that he is black. In it, I wrote that I was a Hillary supporter because I felt she was the smartest, savviest, and most well-connected candidate. I was wrong.

When President Obama became the Democratic nominee, I knew I would back him. So I listened to him a little more closely and I paid a little more attention to what was going on with him and around him.

What I had failed to realize initially was that he wasn't using the same old playbook. He was writing new rules. Changing the game entirely. And so Barack gained my support and my loyalty. Listening to him inspires. It's not just lofty rhetoric or Q scores, it's substantive and specific.

Tuesday, I sat watching and explaining to my boy sitting beside me. As Barack Obama stood on the steps of The Capital, I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching. He was resolved. He understood the history of the moment and he understood the challenges he was facing. I saw him confident and I saw him ready. I find him more than equal to the task of leading us out of the desert of the last eight years.

I am entrusting him with my ideals, I am entrusting him with my childrens' future, and I am entrusting him with the goodness that is our Country. And I am hopeful.

Why I Vote

In July of 1969, my parents brought my sister, 2 years, and me, 10 months, out from our cribs to watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. Today, I brought my son with me to vote.

• Because the United States is my home and I am a part of this republic
• Because the country needs fixing
• Because it's my responsibility
• Because I have opinions and live in a country where we're encouraged to express them
• Because I don't agree with the war and want to support our troops by bringing them home
• Because Hillary Clinton's mother was born into a world where women could not vote and Chelsea Clinton was able to vote for her mother in the primary
• Because we're not perfect but we keep trying
• Because I refuse to settle
• Because the United States has an amazing capacity for good in the world
• Because a 15-year-old girl was stoned to death in Somalia for adultery
• Because the biracial son of a Kenyan and a Kansan could be president
• Because I am a mother
• Because my boys need to live in the best world I can give them
• Because my children will know that all things are possible
• Because I have more than most people in the world
• Because freedom isn’t free

Why do you vote?

I Remember

My first "I remember where I was" moment occurred when the Challenger exploded just after take-off. It was January 1986. A nor'easter was blowing into Massachusetts and my school closed early to make sure everyone got home safely. A bunch of us rented some movies and headed to my friend, Joe's house to watch. One movie was Thief of Hearts. I can't remember the other one. My friend Michele called her father to tell him where she was. I can remember her saying, 'What?!" and to us, "the shuttle exploded! Turn on the TV!"

There are others now. But seven years ago,

I was sitting in my office in Andover and Andy called me when he got into his office in Cambridge. He commented he'd just heard on the radio that someone had just flown into the World Trade Center. We both thought it was some poor idiot in a Cesna. We both thought it was an accident. We hung up and I ambled into my boss, Lee's office and told her. She tried to get onto CNN.com and couldn't. Then another co-worker ran in to say a second plane had just hit the other tower.

Not an accident. An attack.

We were in a new building and didn't have a TV so all over, small groups of people gathered around small images on computer monitors. Everytime someone managed to get some news, it spread as horrible rumors through the office. As we learned about Flight 93, my friend, June got a panicked, crying call from her college-aged son. His dad was flying back from PA today. Had she heard from him? She had not but later learned, thank God, he was not aboard that flight.

Finally, Lee and I left the building to run to a local Best Buy to get a TV. Going home would take too long. It was in Lee's Jeep that we heard that the first tower had fallen. We saw the second tower fall standing among strangers in front of a big-screen TV in Best Buy.

We spent a longer while at work, eventually leaving to watch the horror unfold from the comfort of our own homes. There, I pleaded with Andy to leave the job he had just started a few weeks before. He worked in Kendall Square, where MIT is located. I was sure if there were more attacks "they" would target the academic centers soon.

He didn't leave until 5:00 and was home in record time. He found me in front of the TV exactly where I had landed when I arrived home hours before. We watched more. We headed to his mom's to wish her a happy birthday - yeah, 9/11 bummer. More TV, bed, God-Bless-America-sex, sleep.

In the morning, we woke up back to the bad dream that was our new reality.

America, the Dream Goes On

I was proud of my country today. It felt really nice. I’ve always been pretty patriotic. Fourth of July was always a big deal for us growing up. I’ve felt patriotism – not the “Support-Our-Troops”-yellow ribbon magnet kind of way. The loving-your-country-the way-you-love-your-family kind. Today I was reminded a little bit of why.

On our way home from a family weekend in New Hampshire, we detoured off the anonymous interstate and made a trip down the Kancamangus Highway, a true, hairpin-turning, river-following mountain pass, which leads up and over the White Mountains for 32 miles from Conway to Lincoln, NH. At its beginning you’re already at a pretty good elevation but slowly, those pretty mountain peaks in the distance get closer until they’re beside you and even the clouds are below you.

I was struck by the absolute beauty, the granite outcroppings, the sun’s rays on the sheer cliffs, and the myriad, winding streams begging you to abandon your car and explore. And you want to know what’s really amazing? You can! This area is owned and protected by the National Forest Service and it’s ours! Not for housing, fossil fuels, timeshares, or lumber.

It’s our backyard. And it’s there for exploring; for hiking and biking through hundreds of thousands of square acres. For swimming in mountain stream-fed icy ponds. Or just for driving through. It’s for our animals, too. Every animal to be found in the northeast is there. Did you know we’ve got moose, and bears, deer and foxes, hawks and trout, beavers and bald eagles, and so many more? I didn’t because I don’t pay attention to that stuff.

Thank God someone’s paying attention. And that someone is actually our government. Maybe today it doesn’t seem like a focus, aside from what these areas can do for us (yes, Mr. President; I’m talking to you). But back in 1918, we were smart enough to realize the inherent value of this land and protect it. And some part of our government is still focused on it today. And that makes me proud.

When I got home, I cut our lawn. Because you take care of what’s yours. And maybe, just maybe, that’s my way of helping my American Dream, my Dream of America, go on.