The Hills Are Alive

The Hills that is.

There are many times during the week that I miss Turner. But no more than on Mondays at 9:30 p.m. when I'm in a desperate state to discuss the latest episode of The Hills.

See, we used to watch it in different cities and discuss what was happening during commercial breaks. It was great fun. And there's really nothing better than watching a show like that with someone else. You can't beat the "Oh my God, Heidi did not just ask Stephanie if she was loyal!" And the, "Isn't that EXACTLY what Spencer just said to Stephanie? He obviously called Heidi as soon as he walked out of the coffee shop."

Now I'm left recounting the last episode by email to a dear friend in DC, who would be very pissed if I outed him as Hills watcher. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Any person who loves gossip has to love that show. Why? Because it's awesome.

L.

When You're Sitting There In Your Silk Upholstered Chair

Furniture. It's about to be the death of me.

When Dave and I moved in together we brought two "homes" of furniture together. I say "homes" because those homes were, in fact, two tiny apartments in DC into one house in Little Rock. What this makes is a hodgepodge of furniture. Nothing matches and almost everything is second hand.

Now, there are many parts of our hodgepodge that I love. For example, we both brought bookcases, which in our home are terribly necessary. But none of those bookcases look good together. So, here we are with a new house and no furniture that brings the house together.

We've bought a load of furniture that has yet to be delivered. Except this:

It's our back deck. Fitting since I spend most of my time outside smoking.

I'd invite you over except that the inside of our house still looks like refugees live here.

L.

Gum Is A Snack?

I absolutely love commercials. I really do. Commercials were made for people like me. Beautiful people buy things, so I want to buy them, too.

I don't see as many commercials as I used to see because DVR has changed my entire life. However, occasionally, mainly during Family Guy, Dave and I will watch the commercials just like old times. We're just waiting for the show to start back. We might grab a cup of coffee or another glass of wine, but we're still watching the same channel.

It was a moment like that when I saw a commercial that characterized "Extra" gum as a snack.

Seriously. A snack.

Now, I've been a serious snacking person for the better part of my life, and now I'm supposed to believe that gum, yes, gum is a 5 calorie snack. OK, maybe Extra gum really is a mere 5 calories, but is it really a snack?

No, it isn't. And we shouldn't pretend like it is. It's a breath freshener. It's a smoker's paradise. But it most certainly isn't a freaking snack. Twix is a snack.

Trust me on this one.
L.

The Ties That Bind

Oh hell, politics. I've pulled back out.

I still support Obama, and I hope to get another chance to vote for him, but I'm just not as engaged as I was four, even two, months ago.

It's not that I don't care what happens in the Pennsylvania or North Carolina primaries. Or that I think the Democratic nomination should be tied up by now. In fact, I enjoy the back and forth, the debate, the Who-Has-The-Best-Plan-For-What-Major-Issue discussion, and the I-Could-Answer-The-Most-Important-Phone-Call-To-Ever-Exist political ads.

What I don't care for is the inner party back biting.

I think it's strange for people like me. People who have engaged in politics from a very early age. We know that politics a dirty job. We've lived it. We've worked it. And politicians say and do dirty things. We know this. But from the time my real life engagment with the Democratic Party began, I thought we were on the good side.

But, what I've seen for the past month is Hillary embrace the tactics of those who tried so hard to destroy her husband. I've seen her embrace the "character assassinations" that the 90s Clinton's, and the 90s Democrats, fought so hard against.

I see Hillary taking those tactics and employing them against an inspiring, thoughtful Democratic Party member. If Obama doesn't win, he, and I, and you, are still the future of this party. And Hillary is destroying my belief that the future can mean different tactics. That the future can mean discussion, not retaliation. The future can mean real issues, not who wears a flag lapel pin.

And, yes, I realize that I'm bias for Obama. I won't deny it. But, I'd hoped to be able to "pull the lever" for the Democratic candidate in the fall and feel good about it. Unfortunately for me, if my choice is Hillary Clinton, I won't be able to do that.

I suppose all I can really say is that my worst fears about the Clinton's have come true. It really is about power. I never thought I'd say it. I defended President Bill Clinton during the worst of times saying that his "marital character" didn't matter in the form of a president. Now I see the same people I defended destroying the young inspiration of our party over character "issues" for their own political gain.

It's clearer to me now more than ever. The Clinton's--both of them--are after power. And they'll do anything to get it.

It's not a sad day for Democratic politics. It's a new awakening. I just hope the Clinton's see it, too. You know why? Because I'm average American Joe. And I vote. Every time. And I'll vote for the next 60 years.

L.

Dixieland Delight

My travels take me to all kinds of fun and exotic places.

Places like rural communities to meet with wonderful, dedicated people working very hard to improve the health of their citizens and community.

Visiting these places means I spend a lot of time in my car, which also means I spend a lot of time seeing various bumper stickers that take me by surprise. It's usually something like an Obama sticker on the back of the car of a 75-year-old white woman. Or your typical "Support Our Troops". Not today.

I took the picture below just outside the fair capital city of this great state. In case you can't read the caption, it says, "Dixie Cups".

I'm not kidding.

L.

Here's a Quarter, Call Someone Who Cares

I care, so call me!

Sometimes I turn the music up in my car so loud that I don't hear the phone ring. I'm also guilty of realizing that it's 6:30 p.m. and my phone is still on vibrate from a 10 a.m. meeting. Sometimes I'll just leave my phone at the bottom of my purse, and I just don't hear it ringing when I'm in the kitchen or the den or sitting right next to the damn thing. It's true. I do all those things--with some frequency. You probably do, too.

The problem with this is that I'm always so disappointed when I drag my phone out wondering why no one has called only to find that I've missed a call from my dear friend in Costa Rica.

Call me back! I swear I won't put the phone down. I'll start to carry it on my belt so that I can grab it at a moment's notice. Wait. No, I won't do that. Sorry. I love you, but I also love being cool.

L.

Inclement Weather

This morning this Natural State was natural indeed. A strong storm system came through pounding an already saturated city with more and more rain water. There was quite a bit of flooding downtown, which is evident in this photo taken in the heart of the city.

As you can see, people are wading through flood water to enter the building. Hence the sign below, which was posted on a door inside.

Awesome.
L.

Quote of the Day

Via Andrew Sullivan:

"In a move that's sure to be seen as controversial, Hillary has contacted the NCAA Board of Directors to argue that Memphis is actually better qualified to be National Champion.

Ms. Clinton stated that Memphis, while losing the game, had actually shown more ability to act like a National Champion on Day One. She argued that Memphis had passed every test during the game, including scoring more points than Kansas for 38 minutes. For 38 minutes they had shown the experience necessary to be National Champion. 'Just because some team comes along in the last minute and scores more points than the other guy doesn't mean they're necessarily able to be National Champion on Day One,'" - DPolitico.

AC/DC

It’s not often that I miss Washington, DC. But there are days that I miss so many strange things about it.

A large portion of my job is implementation of a program that brings a group of mayors and nonprofit leaders to DC. I love the program because it keeps me close to my small town roots while also keeping me close to a city that I once loved so deeply.

I’ve been in “the District” since Sunday, and with the exception of one Thanksgiving with friends in DC, I haven’t been back since Dave and I left for Arkansas.

During the past three days that I’ve been here, I’ve seen so many people that I’ve missed for so long. The strange thing is that I didn’t expect to miss the city as much as I do.

Please don’t get me wrong. I love our life in Little Rock. I love where we are. And I can’t begin to describe how much I love my job.

But, unlike Dave, I often miss DC. I miss walking to the grocery store. I miss taking the Metro to wherever it is that I need to go. I miss the connection with the people I met while in the city, because it’s a different connection than I’ve ever had before. We’re connected in a way that can’t be put together in any other situation. We’re closer because we’ve been through so many heart wrenching times together. We made it through September 11, 2001. We made it through anthrax scares and Q-tips pushed up our noses to be sure we weren't infected. We walked through some of the most frightening times of our lives. And we did it together. It's a strange feeling to be back, seeing so many people, yet being so far away from them every day.

The strangest feeling of all—aside from walking down streets I once knew so privately, but now can’t seem to navigate—is the overwhelming feeling of sadness that overcame me as we drove down the street that last led me out of DC.

I almost felt like tears were welling in my eyes when we drove down Constitution Avenue, passing 14 Street, merging onto 395. I don’t know why. But for some reason the same feeling that came over me the day I drove down those streets with all my possessions in a Budget truck--almost three years ago--came flooding back to me. The feeling in my throat was just as real as the day we left.

I guess I just love this city. It was my first home. The first home I made for myself. The place I met the love of my life. The place I met some of my closest, dearest friends. And today I felt, just by crossing a river, that I was leaving them again.

I do love this place. It made me who I am. It made me the strong woman that I am today. And I will always love this city for being a little bit, if not a lot, of me.
L.