20.12.09

Grounded

Moments ago I was soaring above snow-covered piney mountains, and now I'm enjoying a Caribu Coffee latte at the Denver airport. Traveling bliss...here are some thoughts from the (road).

1. I saw Rachel Zoe at LAX. LOVE her. Did NOT love that the paparazzi has its own roped off area in the screening checkpoint from which to stalk paying customers. I'm sorry, I can't bring liquids on the plane or wear my shoes through the xray but they get a stalking platform? NOT cool, LAX.

2. I know, I am a hater, but what if there was a no kids rule in first class? Screaming toddlers that are old enough to be hushed are not what I had in mind when paying extra for my ticket (theoretically "paid" of course haha). What about all the classy parents that need to bring the little snotters with them? I propose a Nanny class, preferably sound proof. :)

3. I saw Nine last night...I did not like it very much. I mean it's slick, and I liked the Fergie numbers with sand and tambourines, but honestly if I wanted to go to a burlesque show with crappy songs I would just drive down to "boobs and booze alley" in Irving, TX...and I don't.

4. Movies I am DYING to see: Avatar (maybe not 7 times like I saw Titanic, but we'll see), The Young Victoria, Sherlock Holmes, Fantastic Mr. Fox and honestly I do want to see It's Complicated...I mean Meryl is in it!

5. Can't WAIT to be in Dallas with my family and see my Z's again.

6. I'm off to board, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

16.12.09

Meryl

Check out the beautiful article and pictures of Meryl Streep in the Jan 2010 Vanity Fair (www.vanityfair.com)

"There's that quote from Mike Nichols--he said, 'She looks like she swallowed a lightbulb.' There's something that' completely transparent about her, a glowing quality that's quite striking and delicate...There's a sense of great joy and being in the moment. She's someone who is not afraid of anything, and she is not afraid of being ridiculous."

--Quotes from Brigitte Lacombe in Leslie Bennetts' article in the Jan 2010 Vanity Fair

9.12.09

Tolerance

This week I've been musing upon the word "Tolerance"--or really, INtolerance. I think that our culture has sadly misunderstood, and therefore repeatedly misused this word to the point that the very subtext of the word itself has changed. I'm not going to quote Webster's dictionary to you, in fact I'm not even going to look up the definition. Like most (all) of my posts, this is coming straight from the wilds of my own thoughts.

The very act of tolerating somethings basically means putting up with something. Not necessarily loving it. Not even embracing it. More like accepting something, but at arms length. Therefore the word intolerance SHOULD mean, NOT accepting something, even at the safe distance of an arm's length. What bothers me is that today--especially in the context of the news relating to politics, religion, and other heated topices--tolerance/intolerance have been morphed into thinking something is right or wrong. If I believe I am right and you are wrong, I am intolerant. If I like someone and you don't, you are intolerant. What is going on here? If you are a person of strong convictions, or really if you have ANY convictions (and we all do--even if your conviction is complete "openness", that too is a conviction, tricky ain't it?) than you think you are right about some things. Unless you live in a perpetual state of uncertainty, that means that at some point you think someone who disagrees with you is wrong. And (dare I say it?) that is ok. I fear for any child who is raised to think it is never ok to be in disagreement with another human. And this is where tolerance comes into play. When you think you are right, and someone else is wrong, that is when you learn to TOLERATE it. Sure, you might talk about it, try to change their mind, but it might not work. If this person is in your life to stay, at some point you will need to get past it. Hopefully love each other anyway. Agree to disagree. It doesn't mean letting go of your convictions, it means loving THROUGH them. And if that is the real meaning of tolerance, than the real meaning of INtolerance is a person who not only thinks they are right and you are wrong, but refuses to accept it and therefore you. Refuses to get through it or around it. Refuses to love you while disagreeing with you. And when that happens, it hurts. It feels like rejection, like stubborness, like fear. Thank God for grace and forgiveness in the face of things like this. I can't offer a band-aid to something as broad as intolerance, but I can use the word correctly and I hope you can too. (or you can tell me why I'm wrong about this and we can love each other in spite of it and the cycle will continue)

***I absolutely belive in right and wrong and am not suggesting we blow daisies and unicorns at things in the name of tolerance. I am talking about when someone you love/know/just met once at the grocery store doesn't share your beliefs. Or what to do when someone tells you that in order TO accept them, you have to agree with them. Dangerous ground...

6.12.09

Joe

Last night I went out with some friends to enjoy the general merriment of a Saturday evening, and to lick our wounds from the various football loses we suffered throughout the day (SO close Nebraska...as for my own dear Trojans, I have seen some better days although it was super fun to have field passes for the first time!) Needless to say, we managed to have a great time and were on our way home at a respectable hour when we came across a guy I'll call "Joe". Joe was walking down the sidewalk around the corner, and when I say walking I am using the term loosely. Suffice it to say he had had a LOT to drink and was swaying alarmingly. We watched as he barely made it a few steps. My heart went out to him--he was younger than I was, dressed nicely (and we were in a nice neighborhood outside of a rather upscale bar) and all alone. I wanted to help him (and make sure he didn't get behind the wheel), but of course being a girl, late at night, etc etc didn't know exactly what to do. Thankfully I was with three dapper gents (lucky me, I know!) who all simultaneously decided they would step in and help. Long story short, as we sat with Joe for about 15 minutes before we found his friends to take him home, he told us (between heart-wrenching, drunken sobs) a really sad and probably true story from his recent past that left him certain at age 22 that "no one cared about him, or would ever love him" and that he would always be "the second choice" left on the outside looking in, all alone and without love. Friends, my heart broke for him. It still does. As people walked past us, some simply looking through us, others laughing and making judgemental comments, all I could think about was who hasn't been here before? Maybe not drunk on the sidewalk, or in his exact situation, but don't we all at some point or another question whether or not we are alone, or will ever be truly loved and accepted? I know that by the age of 22 I had already dealt harshly with these questions, and thankfully emerged on the side of hope, and even certainty that I was not only loved, but created by love, and saved by love. As I go about my day today, I will think of Joe and pray that he find the answers and hope he is in search of.