monkey tamer. straight talker. runner. random. easily...squirrel!...distracted. can i get a Starbucks extra hot, 2 raw sugar soy latte, please?
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This morning Allie found a marker. She loves to color. But in the truck she didn’t have a color book, just a cup of chaka (chocolate) milk and some cereal.
God forbid that her creativity be stifled. So she wasn’t deterred. She wrote on herself. Till I noticed. And then I tried to take the marker away. see top left picture.
Then she got angry. So she wrote on her leg while looking me in the eye. Then she threw the marker. And her cup. And the cereal. When she cried because she wanted them back, she kicked them out of my hand.
It’s a rough life being a toddler when everyone is at your beck and call but they always seem to do things just not quite right. The nerve of those people.
She then wiped her tears with her marker stained hands.
Then she got distracted by the trucks on the road and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the phone. And all was well in her world again.
There’s always something to smile about, even when your toddler makes you alittletinybit crazy.
Welcome back to my never ending saga with Sprint.
When we last talked, I told you about how I called trying to get help, but instead I was given the number of an old Sprint customer (who shared my disdain) and I was talked to condescendingly by someone in the cancellation department. All in the same day! It was awesome!
What’s happened since then? Well, we quit Sprint.
HOORAY! Ding dong the deal is done. Right?
Wrong.
After that hot mess of “communication,” I reached out to the Social Care team again to tell them how pissed I was about how I was treated. I finally get in touch with the person I was dealing with and tell him we are looking to cancel, as he suggested. Fine, no problem. But we have to send back our phones.
Um, excuse me? I have to send back the phone I paid for because the service is so crappy that the phone might as well be a Zack Morris brick of a phone from 1992? No.
They were doing me a favor by letting me send back my phones instead of paying the early termination fees. Seriously, I’m not a brain surgeon but that doesn’t sound like a favor to me. Whatever. Fine. I told him I’d talk to J about it and get back with them.
Well I tried to give them notice. But seeing as how the magic phone number I was given didn’t actually belong to someone at Social Care, I had to wait for a call back. I was so pissed and fed up that we went to Best Buy and switched to Verizon.
Funny enough he called that afternoon. I told him we cancelled our phones and we were ready to send the old ones back.
“Oh, well you should have told me first because now I don’t know what I can do about the cancellation fees. You may have to port your number back to Sprint so we can wrap this up and then take care of the phones.”
Are you puppy loving kidding me?! (Friends reference)
::unleashing Straight Talk Jess::
OH HELL NO. Just kidding, I didn’t say that but I wish I could have.
But I did go all lawyer on him and schooled him on “offer and acceptance” and don’t mess with me because you can’t suddenly change your terms when they were in writing. He quickly offered to check with his boss and magically they were going to ship us materials to send back the phones. And the Airave box that was sent to us as a courtesy to boost our cell phone reception in the house. (Apparently they charge $35 a month for that thing normally! Again, hell. no. We would never have paid that.)
Seeing as how this debacle had gone to date, I wanted to be sure that the tiny scratch in the corner didn’t end up costing us money because we suddenly got charged a “This Used Phone has a Tiny Flaw” fee. He said not to worry, and plus the packing materials would be secure to send back the phone, but if I wanted, I could wrap them in bubble wrap.
So we get our shipping stuff in the mail. Not the box of stuff I was expecting on my doorstep, just some envelopes shoved in an envelope.
 Nothing was labeled, no instructions on what to send with what. We got a form letter that said we needed to send back our boxes, chargers and including manuals.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
A supervisor called me. While he said he was very sympathetic, he assured me there was nothing to be done. They can’t waive fees. Even though somehow if I had stayed a customer and gave them notice I was cancelling they might have offered it?
Persistent person that I am, hoping they’d do the right thing, he asks me, “Well what would you do if you kept the phones? Would you reactivate with Sprint?”
Um, what?
I guess, maybe. IT DOESN’T MATTER. So I say sure, what if I keep one and give it to my dad to activate. Yeah, they said no. Why do you need to know if isn’t an option? It’s like at the end they wanted us to leave. For a minute (and I do mean a minute) we worried about leaving Sprint. But as the hot mess of horrific customer service kept getting worse, we got over it.
If I had known this is how customer service was going to play out, I would have saved everyone’s time and we would have terminated our contract in March when we first started having issues. Because clearly, all that happened was we traded our phones for early termination fees. We probably would have been better off just paying them, but whatever.
And for the record, never did I once yell at anyone. Ever. Straight talk, yes. Tell them I think these policies are crazy? Sure. Let them know how disappointed in the whole experience? ABSOLUTELY.
I’m over it. Done. I don’t even care about fighting them to keep the stupid phones anymore.
We are so happy with Verizon. I can carry on a conversation with my dad and not drop the call every time. I can send an email from my phone and even get a response from someone within 30 seconds.
I use the data I pay for to use my iPhone as a hotspot for my other devices. You know, BECAUSE IT’S MY DATA, that I pay for.
Whatever.
Chapter closed. And now I can get over it. If they don’t screw up our account after we send the phones back. dun dun dun…..
So yeah, remember:
Today is seven.
Seven years since I lost the woman I never realized was my best friend. The one I called at any hour of the day to ask the most random question. The one who will never be replaced and the one whose place in my heart will always be a little sad because she isn’t here.
For the first time ever, I showed Allie her picture this week and told her it was Gma. Just once. Yesterday she picked up the frame and said, “Mama! Gma!” As if she’d known her all her life.
Dammit.
I figured rather than going on about that, I’d share why I truly became a runner. Or maybe, it’s how I realized I was already a runner.
(from my “why I run” page)
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During the summer of 2005, as I was getting ready to take the Texas Bar Exam, my Mom was diagnosed with cancer. At the time she was diagnosed, I didn’t think much of it. It was cancer, but medicine is incredible–surely she’d get better with surgery, chemo and radiation. Right? Well theoretically, yes, but not if the cancer is aggressive and very advanced at the time it is caught.
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I passed the bar, had Ave that December (my Mom’s first grandchild), and life went on. In the winter of 2006, my Mom got worse, and on May 19, 2006 just before lunchtime, my whole world changed forever. As a child (and even as an adult) I honestly never thought it was possible for life to continue without my Mom in it. In retrospect, I honestly think she was my best friend. I talked to her daily–sometimes several times a day. It was almost shocking when life continued without her there. For months I felt like she was just back home in El Paso going on with her life, and I was going on with mine. Certainly she wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. But she was. {there are still days when I think this isn’t real and get mad when I realize she isn’t there. That I can’t call her and neither can Ave}
In October 2006, I ran Komen Dallas Race for the Cure and raised over a $1,000. To this day, it was my fastest 5k time to this day and it really made me take a different look at running. I’ve always loved running but this took it to the next level. Riding the train to the race that morning, I was so utterly touched by all of the families riding together. All of the survivors in pink–both young and old. Of course I cried as I sat there alone knowing I was doing it for her, but she was gone. But it was such a reminder of why organizations like Komen exist.
That fall, I signed up to train for a marathon (26.2 miles) with Dallas Team in Training. It was a major task: raising $4,200 and training to run over 26 MILES, but I knew I could do it. I raised all of the money, I trained and trained and almost did it. Three weeks before I was to race in Vancouver, I stress fractured my pelvis and my running days were over for a while. It was definitely disheartening and while in Vancouver to cheer on my teammates, I even thought about walking the race but knew I shouldn’t.
To date, with the help of fantastic people, I have raised over $8,000 (as of April 2010) for cancer research and patient services. But, I won’t stop there. Injuries have sidelined me here and there but I cannot give up running. I ran the Austin Half Marathon with Austin Team in Training on Valentine’s Day morning 2010 (what an inspiration and amazing race). When I wanted to quit, when I was tired, when it hurt, I always thought about my mom and the treatments she endured. I thought of the patients, kids and families who all suffer at the hands of this disgusting disease and I pushed myself further.
I run so that my daughters will hopefully live their lives without worrying about cancer because there will be better treatments for cancer, or better yet, no cancer at all.
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Sometimes on a hard run, or even a quiet one on my own, I can’t help but look up and think of her. An amazing sunset, some pretty clouds, they always make me wonder where she is. Sometimes just being out there makes me feel closer to her.
Now though, instead of just training for her, I also run for me. Running is more than exercise. It’s a stress reliever. It helps me kick the funk out of depression.
It’s a challenge to myself. I will never settle for the fact that I didn’t run that race.
Running is empowering.
So, yeah, that’s the story of why I run.
I just finished a HUGE work project yesterday. Well, mostly. I still have to do some formatting and some memo writing, but it is DONE. It was a major undertaking and I can proudly say, “I did that.” I swear I ran down the hallway like a giddy fool looking for a gold star.
I ran this morning. At 8:00am it was already 75 degrees. Needless to say, I’m going to have to start waking up early to get some run time in if I don’t want to end up dehydrated all summer. My new go to recovery drink is chocolate soy milk.
It’s already disgustingly hot in Texas. It was humid and absolutely stifling. Makes me terrified about what the summer will actually bring. I’m not sure why in just the last two years I’ve realized how much I hate the heat.
I’m still licking my wounds after what felt like a fail of a parenting day. It was mentally and emotionally exhausting. I hate these days, but no matter what, by the end of the day it’s usually better. The heart of my big girl is amazing. She blew me away at swim class today and we were both beaming with excitement. The pride I had for that girl could be seen a mile away because I was grinning like an idiot.
Allie was a beast at bed…just like the last two nights. I even took her to the pediatrician today, just to be sure she didn’t have another ear infection. She didn’t. The screaming coming from her as she threw a tantrum tonight. Good. Lord. Lots of books and some “Diners, Drive-Ins and Drives” and she was ready for bed, much calmer.
I saw this on a blog and felt like it was written for me.
source: Adventures in BabywearingBut there’s tomorrow. I can’t wait for our Sunday morning girls-only coffee time. And with that, night night.
I’m not a commercial holiday kind of girl. I’m sure there are a million posts sitting in my Bloglovin’ reader just waiting to be read telling me how awesome Mother’s Day is. I’m sure they are great posts. I may read them. Maybe.
I can remember the first time I “celebrated” Mother’s Day with my mom. I was about 2 months pregnant and I was in town visiting for the weekend. I surprised her that morning with a frame that said, “Hi Grandma” and a picture of Ava’s ultrasound. She squealed with excitement. She was so happy. We went to church that morning with my grandparents. When it was time for all of the mothers to stand up and be honored and receive a small gift, I stood up. I was so proud. I grew up in that church and watched all the mothers get up each year. I never gave it much thought.
Till it was my turn.
My grandma was standing smiling, my mom was standing next to me, and I was grinning like a fool waiting for my grandma to notice. Then she realized what was going on and was so excited. It was awesome.
The next year was incredibly different. We didn’t go to church, no one was squealing with joy.
My mom was sick. Very.
This time Ava was five months old.
And my mom had been battling cancer for about 10 months.
This time was the last time.
 I was sitting next to her wheelchair as we ate the steaks that my grandpa carefully grilled for us. My mom liked her meat rare for some reason then. I still remember we were watching her as she slowly and carefully ate, the blood nearly dripping from her steak. She looked at us with the fire in her eyes that had gone dormant, and she joked about being a vampire. Or liking blood. Or something. We were so caught off guard that she was trying to be silly that we both stopped and then started to laugh.
She was tiny. She was weak.
She wasn’t my mom. The cancer had spread everywhere and had fundamentally changed her personality.
It sucked.
Hard.
I night she went to the hospital.
That Friday she died.
It was our first and last Mother’s Day with Ava.
So yeah, I prefer to pass these two weeks. I think about Allie’s birthday and how she’ll be turning 2. But the happiness is bittersweet because my heart breaks knowing that my mom never got to see her. Allie is a tiny ball of fire. She looks like me and my mom. She’s so silly and spunky. I wanted them both to know her. I think of all the coulda shoulda woulda if she was here.
And I just want to pass.
All of it.
I got some good advice on Saturday after pretty much breaking down during a run that I went on to escape the sads. Now if I could just make my brain cooperate and heed the advice. It had been a long time since I’d been hit that hard. It hurt. I swear sometimes it just can’t be real.
Even 7 years later.
Disclaimer: I got a free credit to Minted to tell you that Minted has wedding invitations. And then I started looking around and found all this other awesome stuff. The opinions are mine and I wasn’t paid for them. If you’ve read my Sprint post, you know I’m not shy telling you when I don’t like something.
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My cousin is getting married next month. We are only two months apart, but since he lived in Fort Worth and I grew up in El Paso, we didn’t get to grow up together. But for some reason, with him it’s like we’ve known each other forever when we see each other.
When we got his wedding invitation, I was blown away. Decoration and design has DEFINITELY come a long way from when I got married. Or maybe it was because I lived in El Paso and modern stuff took a while to get there. Who knows. Either way, almost 11 years later, I was looking at the beautiful wedding invitations on Minted and wondered which one 22 year old Jess would pick. The now 32 year old Jess probably has pretty different tastes.
I love paper invitations. It’s funny how much we all live by Evite and other online invitation sources. But I’m old fashioned and I love seeing someone’s personality come out on paper. I’m also pretty sure besides my Proper Bestie, I’m one of the few people keeping the USPS in business. She and my coworker’s daughter taught me the awesome of personalized stationary. Now I want some.
I love sending mail. I love the idea of someone coming to their mailbox after a long day at work and sorting through the piles of crap and bills to find a smile.
When stuff was less than awesome on the depression front, I came home to pretties in the mail from my friends in the computer and I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.
Just a tiny note saying you’re thinking of them can brighten their day. Coming to a mailbox near you, I think I’m getting these:
I had no idea that Minted even carried half the stuff they do. When I was in the thick of things, I started journaling. I didn’t do it often, but it was an outlet when I wasn’t comfortable blogging the blah that is depression and anxiety. I’m pretty sure I need this “Pretty Poppies” journal because I love carrying around pretties and fun pens. Hello, my favorite colors and personalized for $16? I’m sold.
So yeah, now that I’ve sufficiently spent an hour looking at stuff that I never knew I always needed (and then pinned it all) it’s time to empty the shopping cart and wait patiently at the mailbox.
Happy Saturday!
I’m listening to “Run” by Snow Patrol and looking out the window at a stormy Austin sky. I’m thinking about when me and J went to see them at Stubb’s live. That was a damn good concert.
I am texting with ladies I’m happy to be call friends. It’s amazing how wonderful the internet can be sometimes.
I’m loving this post at Hyperbole and a Half. It’s part 2 of Allie’s take on depression. It’s scary how much I can see myself in every part of that, even the laughing. Other than the wanting to not be here thing, I could have written that piece word for word–except it wouldn’t be as awesome as Allie’s. I’m so thankful that I’ve crossed that bridge for now. It’s always a work in progress, and I keep hoping the better days continue.
 jason aldean * pre sweat fest * jon acuff * swim I’m looking forward to taking both girls to swim lessons this weekend. Allie had a blast and is STILL talking about it. I’m so excited to think that my tiny almost two year old girl will probably know how to swim before we hit the 4th of July. She did amazing at her first lesson.
I’m still on a mission to let people know just how much Sprint sucks. I’m still working on this because I don’t think it’s fair that people are marketed a service that doesn’t exist. Apparently I’m not the only one because in researching, I found tons of people experiencing the same thing and a boatload of class action lawsuits about Sprint’s non-existent 4G service.
I’m on a mission to take more yoga classes. I went my first vinyasa (flow) class at a real yoga studio (Gold’s didn’t count, and wow what a difference). HOLY COW. I have not even sweat that much on a long run in the heat of summer. Wow. I’m still sore, but the awesome kind of sore. I figure if I’m going to get serious about running again, I need to take all measures to make sure my body stays healthy–that includes stretching.
Oh did I mention I’m training to run a half marathon on 7.27? Yup. You can blame my running partner in crime for telling me about the race, and Jon Acuff for inspiring me by saying “you control the start.” So if I can do that…well let’s just say that I’m am seriously entertaining the idea of a bigger race at Disney in January 2014. More on that later. Time to punch fear in the face, right Jon?
I’m loving Jason Aldean. J and I went to his concert this weekend. Jake Owen opened. Um, no words. So awesome. I’ve pretty much been listening to them on repeat. There’s something about live music that takes your enjoyment to a whole new level.
So yeah, that’s me, right now.
I love my iPhone. I love my iPad. I am an Apple girl and I love me some technology.
I love social media.
I love blogging.
So obviously I need a decent phone carrier to make all of that come together when I’m not at home.
Sprint is not that carrier. Not anymore.
I live in Austin. For those of you not from Texas, I don’t live on a farm with a herd of cattle. Austin is often ranked one of the top cities in the nation for job growth. Google Fiber is coming to Austin next year. All the techies are pumped. We are the home to Dell and soon a new Apple campus.
Sprint is trying to keep up with technology by upgrading some of their towers to 4G LTE. While Austin was one of the first to get 4G (which I had access to on my old Android), it sucked and was spotty at best–plus it’s not what iPhone runs off.
Unfortunately, they didn’t know their market and decided to start upgrades during one of the biggest live music festivals in the country: SXSW. SXSW also features Interactive, Education, and Films. It’s a pretty big deal. To say that the masses of tech savvy visitors (and residents) were unhappy with the overwhelmed and under capacity network is an understatement–at least that’s what a Sprint employee told me.
I used to think it was just Jess and the bad news phone. Nope. One day I stopped by the mobile center in Best Buy and they told me Sprint service was so bad in the store that they couldn’t even connect prepaid phones because the over the air connection was THAT BAD. BEST BUY COULD NOT CONNECT new phones because Sprint connection was THAT BAD.
Well, looks like Jess isn’t crazy. At least not when it comes to my phone. Best Buy even told me that Sprint was upgrading their networks to accommodate 4G LTE. He was the FIRST PERSON to share this information. Makes sense-while I was in Dallas I had no problems.
Stupidly I kept calling Sprint thinking someone would help. I wasted a couple of hours talking to people on the phone. I even told them about the upgrades in the city, because shocker! they had no idea.
Hard reset! Reset! Factory restore! If you don’t have an iPhone, let me tell you–when you have 16gb of stuff on your phone it takes a LONG time to go through this process. Apple even replaced my phone anyway and told me if I still had issues, it was definitely Sprint. Surely Sprint can’t be that bad! It had to have been that crappy old phone. Sure was Sprint.
Despite promises of calls back and new tricks that would make my phone work, I still roam EVEN OUTSIDE in the middle of the city and drop calls. I did what Scott Stratten taught me at Blissdom–I put social media to the test. Oh hai, Twitter.
I started tweeting about how much my service sucked. Partly to see if anyone else had the same issues but mostly to see if Sprint had read Scott’s book Unmarketing. I’m pretty sure they haven’t. Verizon answered the first time I included their name in a tweet. Good job, Verizon!
Social media can do great things to spread good stuff about a company and reinforce it’s reputation. Or it can spread the bad stuff even quicker.
Finally. Finally I got a response. Then an email. And a call. Finally someone acknowledged what I knew instead of pretending I was on crack making up stories.
I continued to wait for better service. A Rep Who Shall Not Be Named called and left a message about how they recognize the issues and pretty much with no end in sight, I had the option of terminating my contract. YAY!
I honestly hadn’t thought about leaving Sprint, but since he suggested I research, I did. And it was the answer. Sprint can keep their unlimited data because it doesn’t do me any good anyway.
So I called back but no one had heard of the social care division of Sprint. Huh? Whatever. So they finally found a number and gave it to me in case we got disconnected. Unfortunately for them Sprint gave me the number of a former disgruntled Sprint customer. Ha!! We commiserated and he told me how he didn’t get resolution for ages till he kept working his way up the food chain. I apologized for the inconvenience, wished him a good day, and laughed.
I called again but this time I spoke to a condescending woman with an accusatory tone. Nope. Not the day to mess with me. Back to Twitter I go.
Am I writing this to be a bitch or get something free? Absolutely not.
So why are you writing this Jess?
Thanks for asking, Friend! Call me a fuddy duddy or a wide-eyed dreamer, but I’m writing because I believe in truth, justice, and good customer service! If only Sprint had been honest about how long the upgrades would take and validated that my concerns were legitimate and mattered.
I’m not some punk looking for a freebie. I’m a working mom who lives in the burbs and practices law. I’m not an opportunist, I am a loyal paying customer who just wants what she pays for. A customer who wants to be treated with respect and not feel like the voice on the other line thinks I’m a liar. Is that too much to expect?
The saga continues…but hopefully not for long because I hope for a good resolution. Stay tuned!
Have you ever been treated like crap by a company?
Everyone always says that things are incredibly different with your second child. Yup.
You don’t freak out with every little thing or coat yourself with antibac, you bend on stuff you swore you wouldn’t, and the pregnancy and baby books never get filled out. Poor second baby. At least Allie has a ton of pics, thanks to my trusty iPhone. Too bad they haven’t seen the light of day to be printed and put on the wall…
I was going through pictures to give to Ava and handed her a picture of her as a newborn. Except it wasn’t her. If it wasn’t for the name of the hospital on her shirt, I would never have guessed it was Allie. Gah, what kind of mother am I?! They looked like twins for about a month. And then the similarities ended and Allie morphed into my mini Me.
Ava and Allie are sometimes as different as night and day. Actually, most of the time they are incredibly different personalities. Ava was so incredibly chill. She went with us everywhere. It wasn’t because of lack of options (even though it was), it’s because she was just so good that no matter where she went it was fine. Allie…is a little more rambunctious. That’s what people say to be nice instead of, “oh my gosh it would be easier to give the neighborhood cat a bath than it would be to get your kid to sit still.”
Last night, I picked up Allie from school and she was very grouchy on the way home. “NO LAKE! NO BUS! NO!” Everything was drama.
We rushed to pick up Ava from school, raced to get her changed and dropped her off at dance class. Allie was not impressed. Ever the social butterfly (like Ava), she did not want to go home. She made that crystal clear by telling me. Repeatedly. ”NO HOME!” I tried to ask her if she was ok and she made a face that would give me a run for my money and said, “Walk away mama! WALK AWAY!”
Despite her attempt to make her wishes known, it was hilarious. Ok, Allie, let me stop this truck and walk away. Funny girl. She turned herself into a board to protest getting out to go into the house. I somehow managed to carry her and our junk inside and put her carefully on the floor to continue her fit.
I stopped cleaning the kitchen after a couple of minutes and went to pick her up. Just like she always does, she stopped her fit and held me tight, clinging for dear life. She let everything go and was my babe again.
At bed she pointed out each book SHE wanted to read. She held the book and pointed to each animal, vehicle, or whatever else she saw. In the past few weeks her vocabulary has started to grow immensely. I was honestly worried for a while. Why wasn’t she doing this like Ava did? How come she started walking later? Why doesn’t she talk more?
Oh, but she does walk. Run like a little bobble head is more like it. Always in a hurry, like me. ”Hi me-me!” she smiled at me while I changed her into pajamas. I think she started calling me that because I sometimes call her be-be.
She’s learned to count in English and Spanish. She “sings” her ABCs and Happy Birthday.
She constantly blows my mind.
She’s so independent. She loves to explore and do things herself.
She was so precious. I was literally conscious of the fact that I smiling with a full heart just watching her talk and take pride in my praise. In that moment, I was reminded to be so incredibly grateful that this little wonder was mine. I know, total sapfest.
I never thought about having kids when I was younger. I never “knew” I wanted to be a mom. It’s funny how things change in a heartbeat. Literally. I can’t imagine my life without them. With Mother’s Day coming up, they are an excellent reminder that THEY are why I’m called “mama.”
I grew up in El Paso, which is on the border with Mexico. Literally. I could see the colonias made up of cardboard and pallet homes from the parking lot at UTEP (my undergrad). All of the Pinterest upcycling of pallets is hilarious to me since people in some parts of the world have to use those for actual homes and they’re being treated as the latest medium for crafts. UTEP is a commuter school made up of mostly first generation students, 77% Hispanics, and the average family income for many students is only $20,000. Family income, not single person.
Anyway, I’m the granddaughter of a staunch “straight ticket” democrat who worked to campaign for President John F. Kennedy. I went with my grandpa on voter and petition drives.
I went to SMU School of Law. I’m really proud of my time there and I love my alma mater. If you’ve never had the pleasure of visiting the campus, in the heart of Dallas, you should. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Aside from the reasons I chose SMU, I probably would still have enrolled had they only showed me the graduation ceremony, that’s how amazing and elaborate it is. They display flags representing all of the countries students are from. I think there were about 25 at my graduation.
SMU is also absolutely republican and located in a predominantly white part of Dallas where the median income is about $100k. The undergrads fit the stereotype that you would assume they do, complete with giant “SECEDE!” banner plastered across a fraternity house. That’s not to say that everyone is driving around in a brand new Range Rover while shopping with daddy’s credit card.
But the law school was different. We were all “regular” people from all different backgrounds, but we all got along and we never had the drama that bigger law schools do. No backstabbing, no hiding books, no sabotaging our classmates. Yes, that actually happens. No, I don’t get it either.
I don’t think any less of people that think differently than I do. I don’t dislike people who don’t see things my way, or people who voted for the other guy. That’s not the way things work in the United States. We’re all entitled to our own beliefs and that’s the beauty of living here, right? Our life experiences and encounters with others contribute to our ever evolving thoughts and beliefs.
So when it comes to politics, it’s sad that people get ugly. They fight on a dirty level. They make things personal. I hate it.
It’s easier to just stay quiet than to have the unpopular opinion. But why should I have to? Why should I be ashamed of what I believe in?
I’m totally going on a limb saying this, but here goes…
I watched the dedication of the George W. Bush Presidential Library yesterday and it was AWESOME. I was so incredibly proud of Texas, of SMU, and of W. I was moved to tears (literally) as I saw George H.W. Bush (41) begin to speak proudly about his son, only after W. told him, “it’s on Daddy,” as he fiddled with his microphone. Despite his frailty, he struggled to stand up from his chair and was given an ovation.
I was moved as W. gave his speech, professing his love for his wife and girls, and his new granddaughter. Then he got choked up with emotion at the end and it was clear that this Library meant so much to him, both as a President and as a person. But more importantly that his parents were alive to see it.
He’s a regular guy at the end of the day, just like me, just like you. At the end of the day, politics aside, we are all human beings with thoughts and feelings.
I’m not ashamed that I watched the entire ceremony and loved it.
I’m not ashamed that I cannot wait to go visit and take the girls.
I’m not ashamed that I am a Republican, even if I don’t agree with everything the party does.
I’m not ashamed to say I believe that gay rights are important.
I’m not ashamed that I think we should have the right to own guns, but I don’t think anyone should be able to own an automatic weapon.
I’m not ashamed that I am open to all ideas and don’t think there’s one right way to anything.
I may be middle of the road, and probably far too liberal for most conservatives, but at the end of the day, politics are just words. It’s what you truly believe that matters.
I have my beliefs and they may not be popular, but I’m proud of them.
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