Beauty in the Breakdown

My office is empty.

My drawers are empty.

My files are empty.

My chair is gone.

My desk is clean.

I'm done.

That last one is true on so many levels.

Today was (kind of) my last day. Technically, my last day is Monday, but I'm done with work, and I'm having my wisdom teeth pulled that afternoon. That is, at least after I have my "I get to tell off my boss" meeting with the CEO. I'm really looking forward to that.

I'm so over that place. I have never felt so relieved and so happy to be ending something before. I am free. And I am walking away with a wealth of knowledge about how - and more importantly, how NOT - to run an organization.

I think that was worth putting up with crap for a year. At least I hope it was. I suppose only time will tell.

Off to the next chapter...

Thoughts on the War

In the words of Joe Lieberman, "Al-Qaeda, after all, isn't carrying out mass murder against civilians in the streets of Baghdad because it wants a more equitable distribution of oil revenue. Its aim in Iraq isn't to get a seat at the political table; it wants to blow up the table -- along with everyone seated at it."

With all the disgusting political maneuvering being played out this week at the expense of the ones who are actually fighting the war, this was a refreshingly rare read.

We are not the enemy. Terrorists are the enemy.

I think people are starting to get fed up. I know I am.

I'm not exactly a Bush cheerleader, and I'm definitely not a military strategist, but even I have a basic grasp of national security policy.

Even democrats - who historically have been experts at feigning unity at all costs in order to achieve political ends - have started to throw their own under the bus when it becomes apparent that they have slipped and spoken too much of the truth.

Apparently you can go too far with anti-war rhetoric. People are smart. The idea that you can claim to "support the troops" while at the same time spewing vitriolic contempt for their country and their mission is asinine. And while this is typical behavior for most liberal democrats who find it difficult to imagine that anyone but them could be capable of rational, independent thought, the reality is that most Americans (and most Iraqis) don't want us to lose this war. And they definitely don't want the soldiers to be defunded.

More brilliant, although now dated, commentary, this time courtesy of Michael Barone (whom I had the great honor of meeting at AEI in 2004):

The alternative is to get Republican votes. But only two of them voted for the March bill, and few are likely to support anything but a "clean bill," with no deadlines, goals, or benchmarks. But that would enrage many Democrats. The CodePink group and other antiwar organizations have already been staging demonstrations in Pelosi's office. They'd get really angry if a Democratic House passes a "clean bill."

The Democrats will face the same problem when George W. Bush vetoes their bill. They would like to end the war, but they dare not end funding to the troops. They can hope that the sympathetic mainstream media will put the blame on Bush. But they can't help remembering that the last time an opposition Congress refused to meet a president's demand to fund the government, it was the speaker-Newt Gingrich-not the president-Bill Clinton-who plummeted in the polls.

Unfortunately, thanks to some of the most spineless Republicans ever to hold office, we now know that Pelosi, Reid and the Democrats were able to do just that this afternoon: pass a bill that would defund the troops, ensure America's defeat, threaten our national security, and otherwise declare to the entire world (including our enemies) that we are more than happy to give up and go home when things start to get tough. That we have no honor or conviction.

The dirty little secret is, even though most people think things are going badly in Iraq (mostly because that's all they are told day after day), the vast majority want President Bush to succeed.

That's why I think we should just let them keep talking. Eventually, extreme liberals always show their true colors, and they have done exactly that this last week. Most Americans are patient, but when it comes down to it, they're also patriotic.

I can't imagine they'll stand for this much longer.

Fix You

Most of the time, I'm a problem-solver. You know the friend that you love but can never just sit there and let you complain about how much your life sucks without them telling you why it sucks and what they think you need to do to fix all your problems?

That's me. I'm a fixer.

The problem is, I can't fix myself. I used to be able to. I used to be able to sit back, objectively look at myself in the mirror and give myself a to-do list: "step 1 + step 2 + step 3 = problem solved." I used to spend hours and hours taking personality tests, reading self-help books, and "researching" my way out of all of my self-diagnosed "issues." Now, no matter how hard I try, I can't. Or won't.

I'm not entirely sure when or how this happened. Maybe I've been like this for a while and have just been so numb for the past year that I haven't noticed and had no need to try to fix myself. Maybe it's been so easy to pour all my energy into fixing other people that I forgot myself in the process. All I know is, I'm starting to feel again, and my heart is going into it kicking and screaming.

Feeling frightens me, and it didn't used to. I used to take such comfort in my emotions. They were my best friends, allowing me to escape from confusing reality into a world that made sense to me.

But when I finally allowed someone into my heart and my emotional world, for all the wonder and joy and passion and ecstatic happiness it brought, it also hurt. Sometimes, a lot. All of a sudden, I was vulnerable. Naked. Unprotected. And the more times I was hurt, the more I consciously or unconsciously put part of my soul to sleep. Now, it feels like there is a wall around most of my heart, except I don't remember building it.

Now, so much has happened to force certain parts of me out of hibernation that I have begun to realize just how much of me has been sidelined. And it scares the crap out of me.

What scares me more, though, is that instead of feeling my way through this mess, I'll tuck those last little parts of my heart away and shoot them so full of anesthesia that they may never recover.

Is it possible to experience all the depth and breadth of human emotion without simultaneously destroying that very essence of what makes us human? Or do we only have the capacity to feel so much at a time before reaching a critical mass of emotion, forcing some of our cylinders to stop spinning so the other parts can keep functioning?

A to-do list would be nice right about now.


Fix You
Coldplay (X&Y)

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
If you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Would You Have Stopped?

If a world-class musician were dressed like a street performer and playing in a subway station on your way to work, would the beauty and brilliance of the music transcend the surroundings?

Would you even notice?

Or would you - like almost all of the 1,000+ people that passed Joshua Bell playing his Stradivarius violin in the L'Enfant Square metro station that morning - walk by without so much as a glance of appreciation?

This article absolutely mesmerized me. Very rarely does one find such a poetic and disturbing philosophic exposé on music, beauty, art and modern life in the Sunday paper.

Have we become so jaded and numb that we no longer appreciate beauty, art, music... life?

For our sake, I hope not.

(You can listen to the full audio of Joshua Bell's performance on Washingtonpost.com. It is breathtakingly beautiful.)

Good, But Not Great

I got to meet Josh Groban last night. It was cool.

The concert was good (not great). The music was beautiful. He is extremely talented, but the show was poorly produced. It seemed very awkward and amateurish compared to his previous shows. The worst part was the strange video images on the background. There's a fairly universal rule in stage production: the sets and lights and effects should complement and support the performance, not distract from it. I found myself distracted and confused trying to figure out what in the world I was looking at and why it was on the screen. I thought it was unfortunate, since he is so talented and the music was so beautiful, that I missed a good third of the show by having my attention pulled away from the performers.

The highlight of the show was, once again, Lucia Micarelli. She is amazingly talented. I fell in love with her at the first Josh Groban concert I attended in San Diego where she completely stole she show with her rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. Josh has since added another beautiful young woman playing a stringed instrument in Collette the cellist [30 minutes of Googling and I can't find her last name... arrgh!]. She was poised and passionate, and the perfect complement to Lucia's wild enthusiasm.

All in all, it was a lovely evening. Rob and I did the meet and greet, and Dave got to come at the last minute (to be Rob's hot date). Brian liked when Josh got on the drums at the end of the show and soloed.

Final analysis: I did not find myself being moved as I was at his Closer concert, but I was entertained.