Hurricane.

Provided to YouTube by Warner Music Group Hurricane · Lin-Manuel Miranda, Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton Hamilton ℗ 2015 Hamilton Uptown, LLC under exclusive license to Atlantic Recording Corporation Banjo, Guitar: Robin Macatangay Bass, Keyboards: Richard Hammond Cello: Anja Wood Conductor, Keyboards, Orchestration, Producer: Alex Lacamoire Drum Programmer, Synthesizer: Randy

Surely, you've heard there is a hurricane churning off the coast of Florida. I was just in Miami and it was the talk of the town. 

The funny thing about hurricanes...well, there are many funny things about hurricanes, is that they move slowly compared to other weather systems. You cannot plan for a tornado or an earthquake. Hurricanes like to give you warning. 

The problem is that you never know how damaging, involving or terrible the hurricane will be. You can only prepare so much. You might not be able to do enough. You might even miss the signs it is even coming.

My life right now feels like it is being made landfall by a hurricane. Some of the things are great: a new job with a team I adore, the beginning of yoga teacher training, having a curious and busy five year old.

Some of it is terrible. My high school is closing, my uncle is very ill, a beautiful friend from college died unexpectedly. Plus, an actual hurricane is going to hit my hometown, filled with people I love.

It is hard to feel grounded. My head is light and I feel dizzy. But, just like a real hurricane, all I can do is batten down the hatches, try to breathe and wait for the storm to pass. And, then, when the sun comes out again and the wind is calm, we can begin to rebuild.

I hope you are safe wherever you are. Hunker down. It's gonna get rough before it gets better. 

Struggle versus Hope.

Look! That's me! Left is me this week and right is me at the DNCC in Philly in July.

On the right, I look happy but I was not happy. I was fueling my miserable self with chicken fingers and milkshakes. I was stressed out, unhappy and struggling with exhaustion and depression. I was feeling like shit and treating myself like shit and flipping that and reversing it over and over again. I felt out of control. I was. 

On the left is day30 of my whole30. It is 30 days with no alcohol, processed sugar, dairy, grain. It is me on new mental health meds. It is loads of yoga, long walks and laughter. It is me after demanding space and handwork of myself. It is a new job. It is time away from the news of the world. It is 9 pounds less of myself.

Ta-Nehisi Coates, an author and thinker I respect, was on my favorite podcast a while ago and I just got around to listening to the interview. There was so much about the interview and his world-view to discuss but the thing that stuck out to me most was the idea of struggle versus hope. He said that a lot of people believe that at some point everything will get better and be okay but he sees no evidence of that. The world is struggle and inequality and chaos. To believe otherwise is false hope that will at the very least disappoint you and worst case, kill you. He believes if we accept that life is struggle and pain, we can learn to live with and direct that pain in productive ways. 

I really like this idea. I think we get sold a bill of goods by society that if we work hard and behave and lose weight and get money, we will be happy and at peace. THAT NEVER HAPPENS. There is never a perch you can sit on and be truly happy. There always seems to be something to work for, to strive for. So, the struggle, the restlessness, the crazy in your head, those things will likely never go away. Bummer, right? Well, yeah, but if you accept that, you can start making decisions that will help you get along and not operate under false information.

I want to use my struggle, my battle in my head in a constructive way. I want to live and write and create in spite of those things. I am done waiting to be skinnier, older, wiser. I am accepting the world and myself for what it is. Certainly, I am going to work to be better everyday but I am not going to let the bad days crush me. 

What Being a Curley Knight Means To Me.

This morning, the Archdiocese of Miami announced that my alma mater, Archbishop Curley-Notre Dame will be closing its doors after this school year. This news is very upsetting for many reasons. First, I attended ACND from 1999-2003, my brother, my mother and her 6 siblings graduated from ACND, my grandmother worked there, my mother taught there and my uncle is the current principal.

Secondly, ACND is a very special place. High school is a difficult time, a time of self discovery and growth. I am endlessly grateful to ACND for the lessons it taught me both in and out of the classroom. The socio-economic and racial diversity I experienced while a student has had a lasting impact on my life. The friendships I forged with people of all backgrounds, racial identities and classes is invaluable. It especially important to me as I navigate an America that is grappling with race, poverty and inequality. I learned the value of human life and dignity in high school. I don't just believe in activism towards racial justice, I live it because of my fellow Knights. 

There is no other school in the Archdiocese like ACND. 

This morning, after hearing the news, I thought of Dr. Guthro's memorial service shortly after he died unexpectedly. I thought of how we made the sound of the rain on the stage, using our hands in a great cacophony. All of us, different. All of us, together. 

I wish there were something we could do to save ACND but I think we all know that this decision was a long time coming. The Archdiocese is a business and one that, with this decision, is not honoring their commitment to the ideals of Catholic education. But, the choice has been made. What we can do, as Knights, is look inside our hearts for the lessons we learned at ACND: to treat all people with love and respect, to honor our brothers and sisters and to do work out in the world that makes it a better place for all people and to find those lessons and live them loudly and proudly. 

I am so heartbroken that future generations of students won't get to walk those noisy halls, eat in that cafetorium or sweat their asses off in that gym. I am deeply grateful to the staff, teachers and current and former student body for creating the magic that is ACND.

I remember being taught that the church is not a building, the church is the community of people who work for justice. ACND is not the campus, WE are ACND. We will always have each other.

Worth It.

Monday morning, I woke up and it was raining and I was tired and feeling pretty blah about basically everything. Ron came in to the bedroom and snuggled up next to me. His face in my hair.

"What's this for?"

"I just love you. A lot."

"Okay, " I said dully. 

I do not deserve to be loved like that today. I have so much to do today. I want to do nothing. I feel like garbage. I am a mess. My house and work space is a mess. It is raining. I am not feeling bright and sunny. I do not deserve to be loved like that today. I have to earn that love and have done nothing to deserve it.

Then, because I had no better ideas, I went to yoga.

It was during our opening meditation that it occurred to me. Even if I do exactly nothing today, I am worth loving. Not just Ron's love but love for myself. EVEN. IF. I. DO. NOTHING. ELSE. TODAY. I AM WORTHY OF LOVE. I do not need to work hard or eat right or exercise to deserve love. I do not need to be kind or loving. I can be lazy and ungrateful and mean and I will STILL be WORTHY of love. 

I kid you not, that message has been sent and spoken to me thousands of times in my life. On my yoga mat, in catholic mass as a child and in religious studies I have pursued. It is the message of Jesus Christ in its purest form. You are a sinner. You are a human. I love you. Here is some grace. But it is also the message of yoga. It is knowing that all we have is the breathe we are currently breathing and that is all the matters. You do not earn your breathe. You are given it and that is that. You do not have to be good to earn your breathe.

It is probably a symptom of our culture that we are taught to hate ourselves and deprive ourselves of the real shit. The good shit. We are taught that because it helps sell us stuff to fill the hole in our souls. 

And, look, you may be reading this and thinking: yeah. okay. I know. i have heard this before, I mentally understand it. I get it. Okay.

But when you REALLY internalize this, you will be free. 

I am catching this feeling in small waves right now and am gonna keep being open to it.

EVEN IF YOU ARE TERRIBLE OR LAZY OR MEAN, YOU ARE WORTHY OF LOVE. 

I bet that will crack you open and make you less terrible, lazy or mean.

At least, I hope it does.

Because you are worthy. 

DC Nostalgia.

On Thursday, I drove to DC for a quick and dirty 24 hour trip. My main objective was a business lunch with my new boss and colleagues. But, any trip to DC gets bananas quickly because of all the former coworkers, classmates and other fun people who live there, know me and want to get together.

It usually starts at the PA/MD border as I drive south. In 2007, the year I married Ron, I worked in Northern Virginia and spent my weekends in PA with Ron. The road between DC and my house is well worn. I drove it so often, it became meditative. So, when I drive it these days, it is very easy to slip into my old self. To see that girl and have her ride along with me. 

That girl could have never ever even imagined the woman I have grown into. That girl could not have seen all the blessings in my life. She never would have thought of have 6 years of yoga practice under her belt or pursuing yoga teacher training. A podcast. A son. 

The drive between my house and Washington, DC is well worn and still very emotional for me. I love the girl I used to be. I love her and miss her. 

But I am so happy to be who I am today. 

Imperfectionist

My new routine involves a lot of walking outside by myself and thus, a lot of podcast listening. My favorite podcast(which I have written about previously), Another Round, has been in heavy rotation. 

This morning, one of my favorite twitter follows, Ashley Ford, was a guest. I love Ashley. Her twitter feed is always eye opening and comforting and this interview was no different. My favorite part was when she was discussing therapy.

She said that she never used to think of herself as a perfectionist because, in her mind, a perfectionist was a straight-A student, varsity letterman and high achiever. But therapy taught her that she is a perfectionist that manifests in a very different way. Her standards are so high for herself that she feels paralyzed about doing the thing because she worries it will not be good enough. This feeling gives her anxiety and panic and immobilizes her from moving forward.

Y'all.

It was like having someone reach into my brain and read the words scrawled all over it. SO much so that I am experiencing these feeling at this very moment in 2 different ways. 1. I have not felt inspired to write on this blog because I am 100% certain that I have nothing to say. 2. I am about to leave for DC for a business trip where I will see and hang out with my rad colleagues and friends and am 100% sure that I am not as cool, put together or amazing as they are and that they will notice and hate my guts.

I know this is totally irrational but that is what being crazy is. 

So, it turns out that I am a perfectionist. It was really cool to hear Ashley lay it out there in such stark terms. It gives me resolve to know that bad asses like her are having the same mental struggle that I have every moment of my goddamn life. It is said that we should not let the perfect get in the way of the good.

I think that is my goal. To do good.

Ducks.

On Saturday morning, I took a restorative yoga class after the athletic class. Doing this always feels like having a decadent dessert after a meal. It is one of the best feelings.

During our meditation, my teacher, Ron, read this story from Eckhart Tolle. It really resonated with me. 

"When two ducks get into a fight, it never lasts long – they soon separate and fly off in opposite directions. Each duck then flap its wings vigorously several times. This releases the surplus energy that built up in him during the fight. After they flap their wings, they fly on peacefully as if nothing had ever happened.

Now, if the duck had a human mind, this scene would go very differently. The duck may fly away peacefully, for a moment, but he would not put the fight behind him. He would keep the fight alive in his mind, by thinking and story-making.

The duck's story would probably go something like this: "I can't believe what he just did. He came within five inches of me. He has no consideration for my private space. He thinks he owns this pond. I'll never trust him again. I know he's already plotting something else to annoy me with. But I'm not going to stand for it. I'm going to teach him a lesson he will never forget."

And in this way the duck's mind spins its tale, still thinking and talking about it, days, months, or even years later. He may never see his adversary again, but that doesn't matter. The single incident has left its impression and now has a life of its own deep within the duck's mind.

As far as his body is concerned, the fight is still continuing, and the energy his body generates in response to the imaginary fight is emotion, which in turn generates more thinking. This becomes the emotional thinking of the ego. The emotions feed the story and the story feeds the emotions. Endlessly. Unless the duck chooses to recognize that the fight is over, unless he drops the story, he will suffer from the endless cycle of his mind's creation.

You can see how painful and troublesome the duck's life would become if he had a human mind. But this is how most of us live all the time. For the average person, no situation or event is ever really over and done with. The mind and the mind-made story keep it going. Unlike the duck, we are a species that has the power to remember, which is both wonderful and problematic.

Our duck has an important lesson to teach us and his message is this: Flap your wings, which means "let go of the story," and live your real life – here and now, in the present moment."

Fear Factor.

That dude right there is St. Augustine. After 18 years of Catholic education, the nuns and brothers of St. Rose of Lima and Archbishop Curley-Notre Dame will be pleased to know that I do, by the grace of God, remember some of the things they taught me! 

St. Augustine is one of my favorites because he is quoted as asking God to make him pure but just not yet. 

"Dear, Lord in heaven. I want to be pure. I want to obey you. I want to live my life by your teachings but just not yet. Not today. Definitely tomorrow. Okay MAYBE tomorrow. We'll just have to see."

Y'all. I understand St. Augustine.

I mean. I could apply this to almost every single place in my life. 

"I want to eat well and be healthy. Eat more vegetables. But OH LOOK CAKE. Maybe tomorrow."

"I want to have a clean and organized desk and work area!"

"I want to write a book, start a podcast, do my yoga teacher training. But, oh Lord, just not yet."

That last one is a doozy. A real doozy. 

You see, it is not the work I am afraid of. I love hard work. I love a challenge. I like it. 

It is the crazy idea that somehow, once I do those things, they will actually be successful. I can live my life in a small way. I can be who I am in my life, life my truth and just keep plugging away at it. But what if I leap and leap big? What if, instead the failure we all are legitimately afraid of, I find success?

If I am honest with myself, I am perfectly comfortable with failure. Failure is an old friend that I know well. Success and big success is terrifying. Who will I be with the light shining brightly on me? What would it mean if people listen to me on a big scale?

That is terrifying!

But, like St. Augustine discovered, at some point, you have to do the damn thing. You have to leap. 

HOBY Hugs.

There are people who impact your life in ways that are impossible to even convey with words. There are people who make a decision to do something decades before your birth, who decide to do something small that ripples so far into the future and helps so many.

Hugh O'Brian changed my life. 

I am certain that there are thousands of other adults, college kids and high school students who could say the same. 

It is not hyperbole. Hugh O'Brian changed my life. It is because Dr. Albert Schweitzer changed his life. But Hugh O'Brian left Africa and founded HOBY, setting off a tsunami of change that changed my life. You can read more about HOBY's story here.

The idea was to teach leadership skills to high school sophomores because they would learn and take their skills back to their high schools and their communities and do something with them before they left for college.

I was one of those sophomores in the spring of 2001. I was ambitious and enthusiatic but had no idea what the world beyond my friends and classmates looked like. I was elected by the faculty of my high school to attend a three-day leadership seminar with other South Florida  sophomores. I was terrified. My mom put me on a bus on a Thursday night that took me to Palm Beach Atlantic University.

We spent the weekend cheering and learning and asking questions. More importantly, I was surrounded by other teenagers who gave a damn. Who thought it was really exciting to ace a leadership drill or ask a good question at a panel. THESE WERE MY PEOPLE. 

I no longer felt like a weirdo, well, at least for that weekend. Do you remember being a teenager? That shit is hard. You barely feel good in your own skin. HOBY changed that for me.

My HOBY experience did not end there. I helped execute WLC from the opps room and then facilitated 2 WLCs. 

Hands down, the people who participate in HOBY are gold. They are the funniest, most creative and passionate people I know. I refuse to even single any of them out because honest to God, they all inspire me. In fact, I know if I needed help from any of them, they would pull through for me.

And that is just the HOBY people I know in person. There are times when I become friends with someone and later find out that they, too, are HOBY alums and always makes sense.

The lessons I learned from HOBY could fill volumes. The gratitude I have for the crazy dude pictured above is bottomless. He was a little nutty but he loved his HOBY kids with all his heart. They were his pride and joy.

I am so sorry to hear of Hugh's passing. It is amazing to me that a person who could have lived his life happily just on his work as Wyatt Earp and died on the glory of that alone, decided to take his name and his wealth and direct it at young adults of our world. Yes, world. HOBY is many countries around the globe, including Iraq. 

Thank you, Hugh O'Brian for rekindling the spark inside so many of us. Thank you for the lessons learned on panels and in our small group rooms. Thank you most of all for the OUTSTANDING people you have brought into my life.

May your name be a blessing and the memories comfort your loved ones.

Eureka!

Today, I went to yoga, the therapist and to see my favorite eyebrow magician, Georgia. At each stop amazing conversations were had. There were some amazing points made and I just wanted write a few of them down because I want to remember them but also because these things may just help you, too.

• Your feelings are real. Respect them. Don't let anyone tell you that how you feel is somehow not valid. Honor your feelings. Let the rage cleanse you.
• You don't have to chase everything down like a cheetah chasing down an antelope. This is especially true about peace and relaxation. You have to stop and let it come to you. Then you nurture it.
• Think of yourself as an antenna, Others will put stuff on you. Their judgements and needs which is like dust or boogers, this will damage your reception, you have to clean your antenna. 
• You are trying to keep your head above water. Sometimes, you are doing okay treading water but sometimes, you are drowning. You can still save yourself and get to dry land but only if you take care of yourself. You absolutely will not survive if you take on another drowning person. You must save yourself. Stop taking on other drowning people.

And this last one is just for me: if I were at a dock about to take a ferry across a body of water and there were two boats, one is gorgeous and perfect but the other is sort of sinking, I will almost always pick the crumby boat. Because I think I deserve it or because I think taking it will help someone out, like the captain or whatever. I have to decondition myself from that choice. I have to put my self care ahead of other's needs.

You deserve that, too.

I Did a Thing.

EPISODE DESCRIPTION Open ("This is the Swirl") Our differences (:30-) Whatcha sipping on? (3:55-) How we became friends (7:00-) Social media is a life saver (8:45-) Are selfies narcissistic? (10:15-) Q & Hey - Wedding etiquette (22:15-) Close ("You Get Nothing") (29:30)

I am so nervous about this I may vomit. I sound like a Kardashian. I was so nervous and maybe a little drunk. But here it is. Months of planning. Kodi and I did a thing. It is out there in the world. Oh god.

For When Things Are Overwhelming.

Feeling out of control sucks. The Buddhist have it figure out though, because they believe that control is all an illusion anyway. We are never actually in control, we are just finding comfort in the belief that we are in control. It is not actual control. Dude, I know, just thinking about this is giving me the beginnings of a deep panic attack. Like, thanks a whole lot. The world is actually just constant chaos? I am supposed to find this comforting.

Well, the Buddhists would say that comfort is an illusion, too. So, what do they know anyway?

Lately, with the passing of time in my face and the endless barrage of bad news and heartbreaking pictures, with human suffering just a click away on the news or the suffering and need of friends in your timeline, it can feel as if we are all just stuck in a tragedy tornado. It can feel as if the pain in the world is bottomless.

It can turn me into a raw nerve. I get overwhelmed with the problems to be solved, the breaks to mend, the people to comfort. Lying down on my office floor and waiting for gravity to crush me feels like all I might be capable of. The next steps feel unclear. The amount I am able to give or do feels like a drop in the bucket of the ocean of pain, suffering and chaos. It is overwhelming. I could just let it swallow me.

But I am reminded that I also believe that even though the ocean of pain in the world seems bottomless, it is not. It is the ocean of love that truly is bottomless. Love is more powerful. Love is more powerful. Love is more powerful. 

It may not be able to save all those innocent babies in Syria, in the oceans off of Europe, at least not right away. It may not be able to bring back a friend's beloved aunt who recently died of cancer, or heal my own uncle's cancer.

But love is the spark that can start a forrest fire. We can love and be kind to each other. We can comfort those in need of a kind word. We can reach out to our neighbors. We have the power to control ourselves and our own little corner of the world. We can be open to receiving the kindest of others. 

I am not going to pretend to know the answers to all the big questions. I really don't know. And even if I thought I knew, the Buddhists would say that was all an illusion anyway.

But I know love is real. 

So, I'll believe in love.

FIVE.

Oh, my sweet boy.

Where has the time gone? There were days, oh dear lord, there were DAYS that felt as if they dragged on forever. They were so hard and trying and I would count the seconds until your head hit the pillow and you would go to sleep. It felt as if you would always be little and always desperately need me constantly. It was hard. There was very little separation between us. We did everything together. It was draining and soul sucking and felt as if I would never again know myself or be myself or feel my own feelings.

But like everything in life, those days were not permanent. You'd change and grow and smile at me and laugh at me and you became this wonderful, sweet, strong boy. 

When I look at you, I see all the struggle we endured to have you. The disappointments, the lost pregnancies, the pills, needles and counting the days. The places I shot up the hormones that would sustain you. In parking garages, in a Brooklyn bath house. How badly we fought to have you.

One time, while walking with a friend, they said, "there is a lot of intention in this child." Oh, how he was right!

You are strong willed and spirited. You know what you want. You know how you want it. You have no problem calling out unfairness or when the rules are not being followed. You love to make us laugh. You love to go on adventures, to play outside, to swim. 

You are better and more than we ever could have dreamed. You are magic. 

To me, 5 years feels like a big milestone. You won't get on a school bus for kindergarten for another year (Yeah. thanks for being 6 days late and 6 days past the school cut-off).

Five years. We have survived and thrived and blossomed and battled. 

I love you, Zachary Francis. Forever. And ever.

Mama

Back to School Night

Did I pregame "Back to School Night"? If you don't know the answer, you will never ever really know me.

Yes, I totally did. 

Last night, we had Pre-K orientation at Z's school and below are all the things I thought before we left the house.

1. After a long walk, yoga and frying pork chops: "Hey, Ron, do I really need to shower? can't I just go like this?"
2. Is this event open bar or BYOB?
3. When Ron said I could I wear "whatever" I wanted, he totally meant these yoga pants with the hole in the butt, right?
4. "NO YOGA PANTS WHY IS THIS COMPLICATED?" -Ron
5. Can I pregame this event?
6. "UGH, Fine. But only one bourbon." -Ron
7. We are totally going to have to sit in those little chairs and my ass is a little bigger than I want it to be.
8. Googles cost of little chairs just in case I break one and need to replace it.
9. All of these other parents are totally gonna hate me.
10. "I said NO YOGA PANTS." -Ron

Turns out, we barely talked to the other parents. It was mostly just listening to the new teacher, Ms. Donna talk about her policies and plan for the next year. Ms. Donna is a rockstar and I am so happy she will be teaching Z. Not only is she smart and tough, she loves academics. Even more importantly? Her theme for the year is "Character Matters." Kindness towards others is a big value she hopes to instill. Plus, they do yoga.

I am super excited for the school year and know Z is gonna love it.

And, I did not wear yoga pants or shame my family in the process. We'll call this a win.

Olympic Feat.

Just like you, I have been watching the Olympics in Rio and marveling at the athletes, their parents, the giant spectacle. I especially love when the commentators give background on the athletes, their history in the sport, their training regiments, who they are.

It occurred to me that parenting is an olympic sport. 

You grind it out day in and day out for a moment in the spotlight once every four years. It must bewilder the athletes how deeply we, the general public, do not understand the commitment it takes to make it to the Olympics, let alone to the podium. The early morning alarms, the unpleasant training conditions, the millionth time you miss the mark until you finally ace the move. It must be a slog. There must be periods where it seems hopeless, that any amount of god-given talent is just not enough, that quitting would just be easier.

That is just the reality of being a human being and, I would imagine, that even with superhuman talent, you still need to be committed to working out and practicing and having the fortitude to overcome the obstacles. I mean, I am just guessing, but I have zero athletic ability and I have a pretty regular yoga practice that I fight with myself about on a daily basis. The stakes in my life are low, so if the stakes are that much higher, I bet the struggle is even more intense.

But I think this is very much what being a parent or guardian is like. Everyday, you march into battle to shape the little person in your life. To give them the skills in life to succeed or to survive. In my case, that little person fights me like hell. He can whinny and rude and ungrateful and stubborn.

Ron and I have to practically threaten him to get him to practice the piano and when we've suggested taking a break from the piano? NO WAY. He refuses and tells us he loves the piano. It is a slog. You often do not see results. You see the blood, sweat and tears. But then, every so often, you hear him play the piano with perfect tempo. He smiles. 

This happened with swimming, too. This summer, he would argue about going to lessons and then refuse to jump in the pool and then he wouldn't be paying attention to his teacher. But, then. It happens. He swims on his own. He is proud. He jumps off the tallest diving board. 

And that makes every single moment you spent fighting, negotiating and getting him there to the thing. It makes it worth it.

So, yeah, I will never know what it is like to win a gold medal in the 100 meter dash, let alone cross the finish line of one, but I do understand the effort and commitment (that is often thankless and difficult) because I am a mother. 

And that kid is my gold medal.

Emotional Hurricane.

"What is wrong?"

"Everything."

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere."

Hello. I am currently in the deep dark pit of despair that i sometimes fall into because mental illness is fun and cynical and part of my life in a way that someone without mental illness would probably find difficult to understand.

I saw my therapist on Friday and basically cried the entire appointment because the chemistry in my brain and body right now is off and I am so tired of fighting myself in my own head that could scream but I am honestly too tired to scream because I have been fighting so hard.

We think I have PMDD, which, if you want to over simplify it, means I have REALLY REALLY REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLY BAD PMS. It really means that my mental health is very closely tied to my hormonal shifts that occur each month with my menstrual cycle. I often know the moment that i ovulate because that is when things turn a corner and get dark, ugly and super frustrating. I get two good weeks post period and then two terrible weeks pre period. It is like having emotional and spiritual whiplash.

There are things I do to help ease the symptoms, I do yoga, I go for walks, I eat well. But this past month was weird and extra stressful and had much less yoga and walking and way more chicken tenders and milkshakes. I know this because I feel extra super duper nasty this week as I wait for my period. 

Last Monday, I was a rage volcano. I hated everybody and their mother. Tuesday, I was tired and depressed and wanted only to stare at the ceiling and not move. Wednesday, I slept. For four hours in the middle of the day. Thursday, I could list 869 things per hour that I loathed about myself. Friday, I cried. And then cried again. And, when I had to be around other people, I hated them and was certain they hated me.

Guys, I am not my brain chemistry, but this shit happens to me once a month. I have a nervous breakdown of varying degrees once a month.

So, what am I doing to get better? I have an appointment with my OBGYN in 2 weeks to discuss alternatives to birth control (which is used to help ease the hormonal swings and not a good option for me because I get migraines and therefore am a stroke risk). I am hoping he will have some suggestions and be able to give me something to level me out.

My period is due any minute and with it, I will get relief. 

My mantra this past week is that anxiety and depression are liars. I am loved. I am wanted. I am worthy. I am more than just this bad chemistry. I am not my brain.

Thanks for listening and for all the wonderful people out there who reach out to me in kindness when I am not feeling lie myself. Especially my husband, who has super human patience and who loves me even more fiercely when I am fighting to keep my head above water.

Have a good week and be kind to one another.

"This shit actually happened."

Okay. Buckle your seat belts because this is a quick lightening round of the crazy shit that happened to me while working the Dem Convention in Philly. All of it is true. All of it actually happened. Fired up? Ready to go? 

1. On Thursday, Shonda Rhimes spoke at the women's caucus. I ran into her backstage and got to tell her all about my mom and her "year of yes." I also go to shake her hand and admire her fucking amazing Fendi handbag.
2. Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, who was wearing the cutest shiny red kitten heels, complimented my pink flats. "Oh! I just love your shoes!"
3. I shook Al Franken's hand and did not barf on his shoes.
4. Former MD Gov. Martin O'Malley was taking a selfie with a fan nearby. I said, "That is way too much handsome for one picture!" Gov. O'Malley grinned from ear to ear. I think he thought I was flirting with him and I totally was. He also gave an amazing speech to the Ethnic Diversity Council in which he said, "We must go knock on doors and make calls and volunteer for Hillary and when you get tired and you feel as if you cannot go on, you must remember the journey of your ancestors who came here to America." It was awesome. 
5. Georgia State Rep & Majority Leader Stacey Abrams came to speak to the women's caucus on Thursday. Before she spoke, I told he what a bad ass the is. (She really is. Google her. Bow down to it.) She hugged me. (!!!) And, then, I told her to keep going and run for higher office. I will write her a big check for her campaign. We need Leader Abrams and more bad asses like her.
6. Councilwoman Ayanna Pressley from Boston was on a panel during our caucus with other amazing women but the Councilwoman straight up stole the show. Not only is she the first black council member in Boston in over 100 years, she is a leader and bad ass. But that is not why she is on this list. During the panel, she told the women in the room, especially the female POC that we must "stand in our power." There is no way I will do the moment justice but the room was electric. Stand in your power, y'all. 
7. One of the things I was taught is that when I am working, I am not to fangirl. I am to act professionally and do my job. We do not ask for photographs. I have met so many amazing people while working but have little photo evidence because I was following this rule. HOWEVER. When the opportunity to shake Rep. John Lewis' hand and have a photo? Well. I broke the rules. I did not even feel (that) badly about it. I mentioned this to some of the Women's Caucus Vice Chairs, who knew my mentor Mame Reiley very well. Sally, who hails from the great state of Georgia, told me that one time, Mame had the same opportunity to meet and get a photo with Rep. Lewis and that she, too, lost her shit and all sense of the rules and fangirled out. I mean, how great is that? John Lewis is a goddamn legend, so it totally makes sense. It also made me feel like Mame made that moment happen for me and it makes me emotional.
8. Ran into so many of the people I used to see all the time while working for Mame and got to talk about her a lot. Lottie Shackleford (current Women's Caucus chair and bad ass) and all the vice chairs all were thrilled to have me there to represent. It was so wonderful to share in great memories of Mame.
9. Got to see SO MANY people that I used to work with on political stuff. From Jon Murray (who I first met in 2004 while working for Kerry/Edwards), to Heather Mizuer (who I worked for when I interned for then Sen. Kerry in 2005), to my Mark Warner family, Tim Kaine friends, Hillary 2008 advance friends and even some people from my short stint in Harrisburg! All of them remembered me and were so warm and supportive. It was uplifting to be remembered and SO GREAT to see all the amazing things they are all doing with their lives. Political work can be so transient, we work hard for limited time and move along to the next thing, so it was amazing to see all of these wonderful people and catch up!
10. AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST: On the first night of the convention, Rep. Marcia Fudge gaveled in the proceedings to a volatile and noisy crowd. As she gaveled in the convention, she said firmly, "A lot of you in this room do not know me but I am here to listen to you and all the different opinions and respect you but you must respect me." I tweeted: someone needs to go hold the congresswoman's earrings. // On Thursday, before she spoke to the women's caucus (a speech in which she told the crowd not to be trifling), I told her what I had said and that if she ever needed someone to hold her earrings, I would gladly volunteer. She laughed so hard that she practically doubled over. It was, by far, one of my favorite moments working in professional politics.

I also got to meet a bunch of my favorite twitter friends in real life, got adopted by the black caucus and did handstands in a police hat. There were also chicken and waffles cupcakes, bourbon in a flask, gator chomps with old friends. 

It was amazing.

And it all happened.

TL;DR Convention was awesome.

Pardon the delay in posting, I have been stuck to my couch with the world's worst sinus infection of all time, taking antibiotic pills the size of Zachary's head and sleeping. I barely had the energy to speak let alone write you all the awesome stuff that I just finished doing in Philly. 

But HEY! I am here now and have SO MUCH to tell you about my time working the convention in Philadelphia. In fact, I am gonna be posting about it all week. GET PUMPED, all four of you and my mom! HI MOM!

I suppose we should start somewhere and I guess that somewhere is what the fuck I was actually doing working the convention, what that means and how I got to do it in the first place.

What was I doing?

I was working on the women's caucus. You might think of the convention as the stuff you watch each night during the week. The big speeches, the balloons, the totally awesome musical guests, but the convention is actually an all day thing with lots of moving parts and events. The part I worked was during the day, in the convention center. In fact, I slept in my own bed each night, woke up at 3:30 am and was down in Philly by 5 am to beat the traffic and was out of town by 3 pm in order to get out before rush hour. So, I watched the night time fun on tv just like you!

During the day, the convention center was home to meetings of the various smaller identity groups within the Democratic party. The black, gay, native, jewish, disability, labor, hispanic, AAIP and women's caucuses just to name a few. Each group gets two days and two hours within those days to meet and panel and discuss and what not. It usually ends up being a rally of some kind with famous folks from each identity speaking on issues important to those groups. (Think Rev. Jesse Jackson at the Black caucus, Cecile Richards and Leader Nancy Pelosi at the women's caucus, etc.)

My job was to manage the stage at the women's caucus. This means that I manage who gets on the stage to speak and when they do that. This is important because even though you have a set schedule and speaking order, sometimes important people are early or running late or someone you were not expecting shows up. This is stressful and exciting and usually works out but you definitely get yelled at by 2-6 people by the time it is all over.

I was asked to help out by a good friend and former colleague and since I ran the Women's Caucus in Denver in 2008 for Mame Reiley, I had experience and was asked to help out. 

So, there you go. Some background. In my next post, I intend to give you my top 10 moments from the convention and then, follow that with a post reflection on my experience. 

Stay tuned!

What This Election Means To Me.

This week, while at the Democratic National Convention, I have been up to my ass in alligators trying to pull off events for the delegates and public. While rushing all over the convention center during the day time hours and watching the evening proceedings from my couch, I have a few thoughts about this election and the democratic party that I would like to share.

On Tuesday, while walking past a room packed to the brim with LGBT delegates and their allies, I passed gay men and lesbians, trans men and women, and those beyond the binary. They were all colors, creeds and class. It gave me pause.

Wednesday night, members of the AAPI, Black, Hispanic congressional caucuses spoke in groups from the stage. They are only a slice of the diversity at this convention. It gave me pause.

The message that the people in the democratic party and at the convention send is one of welcome, one of inclusion. To me, being a democrat this particular election cycle, means honoring the humanity of our brothers and sisters. It means that even those who do not look like us, talk like us, cook like us, love like us should be respected and loved, their humanity honored.

I have spent much of my professional career working in politics. I was proud of who we were as a party and a nation in 2008 when we elected President Obama, but somehow, today, I am even more proud of the party and of where President Obama and Vice President Biden and their families have lead us. I am also so proud of Hillary Clinton.

I am with her, sure. But even more importantly, I am with them. All of the people in this country. 

Dispatch From Philly.

Yesterday, a former member of congress sighed heavily and said "this shit actually happened."

If that is not the best way to describe what it is like to be in the funnel cloud of working on a national campaign or national committee or a national convention I don't know what is.

"This shit actually happened."

I am currently in the eye of the hurricane until Friday. I promise to get back to this space in a more committed way next week. 

But for now, just know that things are cray. Things are hilarious. Things are inspiring. 

And it all is actually happening. Trust.