Jesus is a Republican.

Recently I had the pleasure of hearing one of the many people who worked on the Obama 2008 campaign. He was one of the many masterminds behind the streamlined, obviously very effective Obama marketing, branding, social networking, etc campaign. The best part was after the event. The BOARDS sponsored a "happy hour" and I had a chance to talk to him.

After talking to him for a while I realized it was coming to a close, so before he moved on to the others who wanted to pick his brain I had to ask him one last question. What I asked him, which I am sure was as unoriginal as it sounds, "would you do it again?". He said "absolutely not", and began to walk away. Then he turned around. He looked at me and said very straightforward "I would do it again, but only Jesus decided to run for the Republican party." Then he walked away.

As he did, I thought he should add that line to his speech.

The Theatre, The Theatre...

What's happened to the theatre? Especially where dressing is concerned?? (If you don't know I am quoting Danny Kaye from Rodgers and Hammerstein's White Christmas, with a tweak). I am sort of a theatre nerd.

Seriously though, when did a night at the theatre become interchangeable with a night at the movies, a night at the comedy club, a night you decided to spend at home because you didn't feel like showering or shaving your legs? Recently I had the pleasure to escort a group of friends to the Oriental Theatre in Chicago to see "The Addams Family", now making it's cross country move to Broadway. Let me first say that the show was hilarious. The distinguished Nathan Lane put on a brilliant performance as Gomez, while the brazen and beautiful Bebe Neuwirth played Morticia. The show was hilariously funny and I thought it did the Addams cartoons justice. We had a wonderful time and the Oriental is the most gorgeous I've been to in the city. However, it was hard to focus on the ornate decor, the painstaking attention given to the smallest detail and the excitement of the night. Why you ask?

Well, because there was a guy in front of me, wearing the a five point pentacle around his neck, with his black jeans and his Gothic t-shirt under his ripped flannel shirt. The guy in front of him was wearing a baseball cap and a matching sweatshirt of his favorite NFL team. Listen, I am a psychotic Packer fan and if you have read this blog before you know that I will sport the Green and Gold anywhere...except the THEATRE!!! There was a woman wearing house slippers a few rows below him. Yes, we were in the "nosebleeds", but I still have the expectation that the "nosebleeds" at Wrigley field would be different than at the Oriental.

I may sound like a snob or an elitist, but in this case I don't really care. A night at the theatre, where amazing talents put on a show just for you should require a little more preparedness on your part than say a Wednesday evening spent in front of the television. I think the theatre is one of the few things left in our society that gathers the masses in a more formal setting, and I think it should be treated as such. Put on a pair of black pants, half the time they are more comfortable than jeans anyway. A button up shirt perhaps and it doesn't even have to have a suit coat over it. Wear some shoes that don't have Nike or Puma written across the bottom of them. Yes, I love that theatre has become more accessible to everyone, but treat it with the respect that it deserves. I will forever love being one of the people who gathers in the darkness, all I ask is for those who gather with me to leave the Zoobas at home.

Contrary to my beliefs

I realize it's a contradiction to love Californication and hate men that don't have their shit together.

That's all.

Conviction: a fixed or firm belief.

The other day I was out with some colleagues for lunch. It was a half day so we had a nice leisurely, beer included, midday meal. There were about five guys and five girls of varying ages. Because of the time of the year, the conversation among the men eventually turned to fantasy football teams. That got my boss started on her own son who is on his high school football team. That begot a conversation about players and the stories that were leading Sports Center the night before. That is when someone mentioned the name Brett Favre.

Now I am a Wisconsin girl, born and raised, and therefore am intrinsically tied to the Packers and the organization. My mother and her mother before her made sure to instill in me a deep commitment to this team when I was a very young girl. Honestly, it is the most committed relationship I have been in at this point in my life. What I mean by that is I was a fan during the Magic years. The Chris Jackie years. The years that every Chicago Cubs fan can sympathize are the worst years to love a team. The words fair weather don't exist in my vocabulary when it comes to football. You're either are a fan or you aren't, and I am.

I am not vocal about my relationship with the Packers to everyone, because I know that especially in the past few years due to my geographic location, I will be poked and prodded about my opinion. I also know that I can often times sounds like a psychotic crazed maniac that has an irrational emotional connection the team. Yes, I will admit that upfront. I also will admit that I'm not the most educated when it comes to sports or when it comes to the franchise. However, I am a passionate person when it comes to my team even if I don't know what I am talking about. You would be too after 26 years of ups and downs.

I digress. At this particular luncheon, I was asked for my opinion. I don't remember who the guilty person was, but someone asked what I thought about all this Brett Favre business. The table got quiet and everyone looked at me. My work partner mumbled under her breath "Oh here we go."

So with everyone listening I stated by opinion calmly. In summary what I said went something like this, "I think he is a jackass." Now normally if there are other Packer fans at the table I would expect a lively debate about the subject after a comment like that. However, I was with a bunch of people from Detroit and Chicago and not a single person had an investment in this man or my team. However, everyone had an opinion, even my soft spoken partner.

It's fine to have an opinion, even though you are wrong. But here is the thing. Don't compare him to Michael Jordan. Don't compare him to Joe Montana. This is different, and I made sure they knew I thought so. In what I am sure the others would describe as a 20 minute diatribe, I explained in great detail how Brett Favre broke my heart. They all made arguments that probably made complete sense, but when you are talking to someone who is blinded by their passion and anger about something, it is futile.

I digress again. I do that.

My point is. I always thought that I was one of those people who was sort of passionless when it comes to activities, events, music and a long list of other things. I mean I enjoy things, but I don't have a whole lot of conviction when it comes to specific things. I guess at the end of the lunch when I got up and walked home, I thought about what had just happened. I literally sat at a table of my peers, soap boxed the hell out of the situation and felt good about it. Having been one of those people who has filled out 26 years of surveys that included the words, list your favorite activities or things you can't live without, with a level of indifference, Brett Favre made me realize that I do have conviction. So if nothing else I can thank him for reminding me that I do have a fixed or firm belief in some things and it only just starts at the quarterback position.

Happy. Simply.

I am just happy. There is no one thing, person or event that has caused this happiness. It is almost empty but in a glorious way. I am simply happy. I can't remember the last time that happened. The kind of happy that has you smiling for no reason. Acting goofier than an adult is supposed to (especially in her office). Singing along with a song on the bus and not realizing til it's too late happy. (Sorry to the two others in the back of the 33Express this morning) It is basic. Reptilian even. Like this morning my DNA decided to wake up on the right side of the bed. My contacts had morphed into rose colored lenses. This is unusual.

Don't get me wrong I am not a person prone to fits of depression. I have my moments of course. I am female, after all. My hormones are often out of my control. But I am not about to write a personal edit of The Bell Jar. I am just a realistic, idealistic, hopeless romantic, pragmatic, imagination activated female and those personality traits don't usually result in a life soundtrack that includes heavy play of "I'm Walking on Sunshine". Sure it's in there every once in a while...but my mixed tape is pretty light on the 80's pop. Except when I was a child and that is all I heard. Wild Wild West and Whitney Houston. Now that was great. Sort of like today. It was just great, and I am going to do everything in my power to just enjoy it. No questions, no answers, just a smile on my face and the faint sound of a synthesizer in my ears.

I am not a cutter.

But Jesus Christ. Cinnamon gum tears my tongue up...I swear to God. It hurts and not in the good way. The crystals or flavor bursts, or whatever they are are like shards of glass that not only cut but then they sting. It is like giving yourself a paper cut on your tongue and then rubbing something directly in the cut right afterwards. Just like Ricky Bobby says. Fuck Big Red....or something like that.

Ouch.

Seasonique.

If there is no medical reason for a woman to her special time, according to the Seasonique commercials, then why is having it four times a year that great? They basically say you don't have to have one at all. That makes the four times a year seem pretty inconvenient.