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May your Thanksgiving be absolutely magical.

Yesterday, cousin Brian, found this magic wand in a store on the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder. It cost almost 300 dollars.
As for my Thanksgiving words of wisdom...be patient. I'm gonna remember this as I head off now for the family hike in Estes Park. And when I say family I mean...my mother, father, brother, Aunt Patty, Uncle Bill, cousin Brian, Cousin Kevin, Aunt Patty, and my other Uncle Bill. Oh yeah....and Ralph, Squiggy, Finn, and Oliver (they're the dogs).

Sometimes when I'm exorbitantly tired...

...the little things set me off. Like having to pay $15 dollars to check a back at Continental. I wont even balk at $5 for a cup of coffee. But to check my bag? This is bad, this is how I know the economy is so bad. Can't they just fold it into the price of the ticket and pretend? Never in my life, in all twenty plus years, has anyone had to pay for one measly bag, under 50 lbs.
Then of course my anger about the bag becomes anger about the fact that I can't fit into my jeans. And my NY staple of skirts and boots just won't fly in Boulder--or across the US (and I mean this literally) not for less than $15 dollars that is.
Damn jeans. Damn creams that are too large to put in a carry on bag. This is what happens--anger becomes the river that lubricates my stream of conscience and all the sudden the sky is falling.
Take a deep breath. In. Out.
This too shall pass. It's just been triggered by my post traumatic stress disorder that I contracted after eighteen years of traveling with my father, what a nightmare--that's a whole 'nother post.
I'm off to pack the tiniest little carry on you've ever seen, with more stuff than you've ever seen. Mary Poppins magic here I come...

For all of you who were worried...

...I'm no longer sleeping on an air mattress. Let the cheering begin.
So here are some pics of the room as it now looks. Note: this might be boring for anyone other than immediate family, but indulge me please. 
 
And For those who don't know me really well, know this: this girl loves her bed--reading, sleeping, napping, oh my!
 
 
For a while there (okay, okay a brief day) the bed was in danger of looking like a hospital bed--twin bed, all white, think about it. And then Target came to my rescue. Love, love, love me some Target. A few pillows and a deliciously, comfortable throw (despite the fact that it hoards static electricity in its folds) make all the difference.
Please note the bins up top. You gotta get creative when it comes to storage in this city. Eventually I'll find a ladder so I can space them out evenly...

Every once in a while...

...when the spirits need some lifting, a little magic happens.
I was walking home when I saw it--the tree. Yes, the tree. That tree. The tree we wait for all year long. It was wrapped in a blanket, perched on a truck, and as it slowly crawled along Broadway, led and followed by faithful police escorts, I thought...I'm so lucky to live in New York. I might never again see the rather subdued procession of this famed tree, but for one fleeting moment tonight, as it rolled by, not only did I get to see it, but I watched with the wonder of a child who knows that Christmas is just around the corner.
That being said, let's give Thanksgiving its due share. I can't wait. I'm counting down the days 'till I head to Colorado and into all out familial heaven!

Si se puede.

It is at moments like this that I become keenly aware of the inherent failing of words. Sometimes they are just not enough. However, years from now when my children ask me where I was when the face of history changed, it will go something like this...
I was in Brooklyn, taking acting class where the focus of the night was will and energy--I know, I know sometimes the push of an acting class can seem so ridiculous, but for this one night it was anything but. We stopped work around nine and moved next door where we drank ourselves silly and gorged on expensive chocolates as the masks of Bali, that adorned the walls, smiled down on us. The reports were already good, as they had been for days, so a breeze of optimism hovered like a promise.
It was practically done. Obama had taken Pennsylvania, and as the CNN expert did everything he could to get McCain to a hypothetical 270 electoral votes, he came up short each and every time. 266, that was McCain's best chance. But if we Americans learned anything eight years ago, it is that things are not always as they seem.
I was absorbed in a conversation when it happened. I don't know what we were talking about, but I turned and there it was. The ticker. The promise fulfilled. The hope that we longed to taste: the ticker running across CNN's screen declared Obama as the president elect. Everything shifted. The texture of the air changed. The reverberations of that moment will be felt for generations to come.
I will never, ever forget the emotion that took my body captive. It was, is, beyond words. A mixture of joy, disbelief, shock, pride, understanding, gratitude, and above all, hope. We jumped, danced, started, stared in silence, made phone calls, clapped our hands, hugged our friends, took pictures, and all throughout I desperately tried to remember every detail--to make tangible the intangible. But I couldn't. And that's when I realized, I mean really realized, this is so much bigger than all of us.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not naive enough to think one person can change a country and I know the system is flawed, perhaps beyond repair. But for this one night I was going to celebrate. Celebrate that 13 million more voters than ever before cast a ballot. Celebrate that a young, vibrant, African-American family would be moving into the White-House. Celebrate that Virginia, yes Virginia, went blue. Celebrate that the American people did what sixty years ago, even ten years ago, even ten months ago, many believed impossible.
And celebrate we did. We took to the streets, chanting, cheering, talking to random strangers--people we'd usually avoid because the differences between us seemed too great to overcome. And as the night ended, and I headed back to Manhattan, the taxi came to a light on a street that was overrun with people. The taxi could do nothing but crawl. And what's a girl to do in a moment like that but hang out the window and join in? I'll most likely never again see most of the people I met on Tuesday night, but I'll carry them with me forever, because on Tuesday night, the fourth of November, I met the best of what America has to offer.