Could you handle politics?

I've seriously had it this week. My back is killing me from a ridiculous yoga sculpt class (instructed by a way-too-perky-8-months-pregnant-yogi who literally kicked my butt), our real estate ADD is kicking in (subsequently, our housing situation is up in the air once again), my newly 6 year old daughter wants a cell phone for her birthday (aging me by 15 years in 5.3 seconds) and I am about to tear my hair out over this insane health care debate. If I could just manage to ignore politics, somehow bury my head in the sand and just go with the flow...I'd be so much happier.

But, I can't.

The most frustrating aspect of this entire process is that I honestly feel that I am not being represented in Washington D.C. As a citizen of a Democratic Republic, this is my right. But, these fools on the Hill are so wrapped up in their political circus that they've lost all connection to their constituents. I am being neglected, ignored, abused and belittled...and so are you. It would be infinitely more genuine if my Congressional representatives would come to my house and slap me in the face without saying a word. Representatives Markey and Salazar, are you listening? (of course not.) Seriously. Come slap me in the face.

While it may seem like a fabulous idea to pass out health care to everyone in this country, we should all prepare for the crash and burn that is inevitable with big picture politics. The rhetoric is intoxicating. The promises are vast. The reality is bleak. While our elected officials casually play with monopoly money, the actual burden falls on you and me. We deserve better and our government CANNOT deliver (and shouldn't be expected to).

Perhaps all this talk about universal health care is just a distraction so that we don't actually realize that our freedoms are being stripped away and our beloved country is becoming a sterile, bland version of its once great self. As our government continues to swell to an unrecognizable size, prepare to be swallowed up by its shadow...unless there is a significant shift in the political climate.

I honestly would love to serve in Congress. I am just as qualified as most of the clowns on the Hill right now (and so are you). My platform has been tested, tried and perfected over the last 230+ years. It's called...the Constitution. Our Founding Fathers created this country as a promising and prosperous alternative to the oppressive societies found in the rest of the world. And yet, we are stubbornly chipping away at our foundation, inadvertently begging to return to the reality they left. Doesn't make much sense to me (and, what an insult to my grandparents and great-grandparents who came here so that I could have the opportunities they didn't).

What if securing a seat in our government didn't involve out of control fund-raising efforts, mud-slinging, perfectly polished suits, impeccably delivered speeches and required pandering to special interest groups? Would you run? What if this up-coming election featured some of the best and brightest minds in the carpool line, at the grocery store or from your recreational softball league? I am confident that our elected representation would be infinitely more in touch, and much more reflective of the intent of our original government. Why have we veered so far off course?

As our representatives continue to spew Utopian promises that will never materialize, I am stubbornly holding on the the freedoms I have and imagine what it would be like to actually have a voice on the Floor.

Review: Pieces of Happily Ever After

I have to say, I've been on quite the literary roll lately. Recently, every book I've had the pleasure of reading has been stellar (with the exception of 2, which isn't bad). Well, stellar is a pretty lofty word, so let's just say I've been thoroughly entertained and just plain...happy. Sometimes, that's exactly what you need from a book.

My latest conquest, Pieces of Happily Ever After, by Irene Zutell, is the inspiring first pick of the SheKnows.com Book Club. Not that I aspire to be a divorced mother of a sassy 5-year-old watching my ex-husband cavort with a gorgeous movie star, but I do aspire to write with the depth and honesty modeled by Zutell. This is not a terribly complex story, but she managed to weave beautiful arcs through the plot that allowed me to momentarily become Alice Hirsh.

As the pages turned, I ached for her mother, I laughed at her daughter, I loathed her husband and I cringed at her neighbors. Zutell's writing is simple, yet captivating. She speaks plainly but eloquently, even through Alice's pain and the blurry haze of teary eyes. Even those of us in happy marriages can relate to this story...perhaps from the perspective of one of her coffee shop friends or one of her aggressive neighbors, or even as a reader of a tabloid magazine.

She touches on the concept of aging, both with her elderly mother and as an-approaching-middle-aged mom. Looking back on younger days, we sometimes want to scream, "BUT, I am still that person!" But, the fact is, we aren't anymore and there are some muddled emotions in that reality.

I definitely recommend this book to all my girlfriends. It's a satisfying, complex yet relatable read.

Stay tuned for the next SheKnows.com Book Club selection...

My Philanthropic Venture: Scholarships for Adults

The summer before my senior year of high school, a friend of the family gave me a phone-book sized edition of The Scholarship Book. I spent hours in a pre-Internet daze pouring through the pages of this massive book, trying to identify organizations that would be willing to give me money for my education (or at least welcome a letter from me desperately pleading my case).

At first, I thought there was no way any of these scholarships would work for me. I was a decent student involved in a fair amount of extra-curricular activities, but was far from top in my class or exceptionally gifted. What I found shocked me.

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I could potentially qualify for a number of obscure scholarships, such as those for daughters of left-handed first generation Italian-Americans, granddaughters of Italian military men, students from Catholic high schools pursuing a degree in veterinary science (at the time it was true), horse lovers who never worked in retail, hazel eyed girls with an interest in literature and scholarships from the Knights of Columbus. Had I been so inclined, I could have easily spent an entire month applying for these scholarships. Most of them were small (somewhere between $250-500) but every little bit counted...and still counts.

The thing is, nobody is giving away scholarships to adults who are probably infinitely more motivated that the high school/college student to pursue a dream. Not only that, but these adults can actually define their dream. The passing of time has a funny way of shoving you against the ropes. From that vantage point, dreams become clear and passions become tangible. That just figures, doesn't it? Is this true for you? Does the adult version of you have a better understanding of your purpose and interests than the high school version of you?

When you are young, entire volumes of books are published to accommodate the endless list of organizations willing to help you. At that point, you appreciate the gesture but are neither highly motivated nor sure about your path. Funny how life works.

If I am ever in a position to do any sort of philanthropic venture, I'd like to offer scholarships for motivated adults who can define success with pin-point accuracy...who can balance the responsibilities of family/career/personal growth...who are role models for their children, proof that life does not end when you become a parent. At the very least, I'm confident they won't spend the money on beer, unless that's part of their dream.

Can you ever really clear your mind?

I've been practicing yoga for about 5 years now. I started with Bikram/Hot yoga, then moved to Ashtanga yoga and finally found a home in more of a Vinyasa-style power yoga. If you are not a yogi, I just said a whole lot of nothing. No problem, just follow me.

While each style of yoga has its own unique flavor, if you will, there is one constant that flows throughout each of them: the power of the breath. Regardless of the poses, or asanas, the yoga instructor constantly reminds us to clear our minds and focus on the breath. Some often talk about the fact that yoga is not so much a physical practice, but more of a mental and/or emotional practice. Well, I've yet to reach that understanding. Perhaps I am an anomaly, but yoga, for me, is purely physical.

When I discover a new pose, I don't ponder how it will help me reach a new level of zen. On the contrary, I work my butt off to master a seemingly impossible arm balance or inversion, just because I can (or can't, in some cases). In fact, I don't think my mind has EVER been clear during my practice...not even once. Is that even possible? If I'm not trying to figure out how to grab my right toe with my left hand while balancing on my right arm, I'm thinking about my grocery list, my writing deadlines or my kids' schedule. Even when I try to clear my mind, all I think about is clearing my mind, which would mean it's not REALLY clear.

A purest would say that I will never truly reach yogi status unless I am able to master pondering...well...nothing. Maybe there will be a day when the most pressing matter on my mind is my steady breath. I can't imagine that reality. Who has time? I will continue my (faux) practice as a form of intense exercise because I love the challenge but I will not chant, I will not imagine myself floating above myself (whatever that means) and I will not "bow to the light within you" (aka, Namaste). All I want to do is sweat and click through my constant mental checklist in peace. Shalom.

Surviving yours 30s: Part I

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, I am currently grappling with challenge of surviving my 30s, that odd decade bridging the seemingly endless possibilities of my 20s and the seemingly unavoidable drab fate of my 40s. For the record, I am not entirely on board with the concept that life ends at 40, but it sure seems that way if you listen to the "world." My first tip, Apply the Fashion Rules, is beginning to serve me well. I've recently discovered some more tips:

2. Pursue something you love.
When kids are underfoot and the schedule is jammed with a million different action items (none of them for you), it's easy to feel like your slowly disappearing. Not physically, of course, but the person you once were begins to fade into the background, taking on the shape and color of the next appointment in the date planner. Pretty soon, you look in the mirror and wonder where you went. It's easy to lose sight of your passions...unless you make a conscious effort to hold on to them. You may not have as much time, money or freedom as you did in your 20s, but it's important to cultivate an interest you have. I also want my kids to see me excel in some sort of endeavor outside of cleaning their sticky fingers. For me, this passion is horses.

3. Avoid dancing in public.
Back in the day, I was able to hold my own on the dance floor (I had the circa 1990 MC Hammer pants to prove it). I was even a professional dancer/cheerleader for the Arizona Cardinals (gasp!). One day, my kids will be mystified and horrified by these facts because sometime between the end of my 20s and the pinnacle of my 30s, the dancing gene disintegrated. Now, dancing just reminds me of the wide chasm between me and the people who actually know how to dance. I am well aware that all public dancing should be limited to the casual steering wheel tap while driving in the car. I don't rule out a spin with my kids in the kitchen, as long as the blinds are securely closed.

4. Don't live in L.A.
Having just returned from an L.A. visit, I can honestly say that the pressure to appear soooo much younger than you are is palpable. Of course, my youth provided protection against this pressure while growing up in Southern California, but today, it's just too much. For my friends who do live there, at least KNOW that you are living in a microcosm of artificially-generated, perpetual youth. The rest of the country is not like this (well, Scottsdale is getting there). This is not to say everyone else should just let themselves go, but seriously, how can you age gracefully when everyone around you is frantically scrambling to turn back the clock faster than the second hand tick, tick, ticks forward? My hat's off to those who can handle it and not lose sight of reality. I don't think I can.

Surviving your 30s...the introduction

Someone played a cruel trick on me. Well, maybe not someone, but a group of someones...society, perhaps. When my mom turned 40, her friends gathered on the lawn holding a banner that said, “Lordy, Lordy, Marie is 40!” Why does a celebration of 40 have to include a ruddy rendition of Happy Birthday and funeral-themed decorations? Since then, I believed 40 was the beginning of the end. My mom didn’t look like she had one foot in the grave, but clearly that must be the case given the collective reaction of her inner circle towards this milestone.

There are those who say everything goes south at 40. For some, this is in references to their physical attributes. For others, emotional. For still others, it’s both. There are those who believe the cosmic hand you were dealt at birth is fully revealed by this age. You can still decide how to play, but forget about changing out your cards or expecting a shuffle. Want to start a new career? You can’t, your’re 40. Want to start a family? You can’t, you’re 40. Want to wear a backless dress to dinner and dance on the table after dessert? You can’t, you’re 40. Goodbye fun, freedom and the promise of possibility. Hello monotony, obligation and the promise of sagging skin. Forty may as well be a death sentence.

While I’m not there yet, the mere acknowledgement that I will indeed have to endure that day has loomed in my mind like an ominous, smirking troll preparing to pounce and ruin my life. In the midst of my 3rd decade, I’ve realized just how much my ill-conceived concept of 40 has shaped my opinion of 30. I once considered it a last hurrah for all things vibrant, exciting and beautiful. While 40 was the tomb, 30 was that final, deep gasp for air, where everything seems more colorful, clear and purposeful. Now, I’m a bit angry that everyone was so busy blasting warnings of 40 that the 30s were completely overlooked. Someone, or some group of someones, should have warned me. American Idol tried. They say life is pretty much over at 28!

This decade comes with so many changes, challenges and forked roads that we really do need some survival tips. Although I’m not quite half-way through my 30s, I have a pretty good idea of what I’m in for, based on the fact that I’m chin-deep in realizations right now. And ‘they’ say your life changes at 18. Ha! Another cruel joke.

Stay tuned for my tips for surviving your 30s....the first of which is: Apply the fashion rules.

Is college a big waste of time?

Let me start by saying that I love school. I love sitting in a classroom absorbing information, heated debates between students of varying ideologies, writing essays and taking tests. I even love homework. Seriously. This affinity for all things academic motivated me to pursue a Bachelor's degree from Arizona State and a Master's from Northern Arizona. I say this with a complete lack of ego, simply for the fact that these pieces of paper represent the least of my education. I truly believe that I am not in a better professional position because of these accomplishments.

For some, I admit, higher education is completely necessary. I wouldn't want an uneducated doctor performing surgery or a self-taught lawyer representing me in court. But, I've learned that practical, real-world experience provides much more valuable depth of knowledge that any classroom setting. I did meet my husband at college, so I wouldn't want to change that. But I believe our paths were destined to cross regardless.

When I graduated from high school, NOT attending college really wasn't an option. I never even considered taking some time to evaluate my interests or explore different industries. Like many, I believed that college was a time to explore a variety of subjects until you fell in love with one and decided to make it your career. In hindsight, this makes no sense. When I was 18, I wanted to ride horses and seriously considered an apprenticeship with either a trainer or a breeder. But, I questioned whether I could really turn a passion/hobby into a career. So, off to college I went. Oddly enough, the wisdom of Roxette resonates with me now: Listen to your heart. It's as simple as that.

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College was certainly...fun. I enjoyed every minute of self-discovery. But, I believe my time would have been better served actually DOING what I wanted to do, rather than trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I understand that some people need that time to explore, but I don't think I was one of them. Perhaps today I would be running a successful horse breeding operation on my secluded little farm (like my friends Michelle and Monica Sakurai at Sakura Hill Farm....an INCREDIBLE operation). Instead, I can't shake the feeling that I'm chasing a dream. I know I'm not alone.

Maybe that's the point...is success defined by what we do or how we handle what we aren't able to do? That question constantly hovers. I do know this: when my kids are of college-age, I will definitely encourage them to consider diving in and following their heart, even if seems risky, unpopular or against the grain. If all the ifs and buts were candy and nuts...

The Bachelor: NEVER AGAIN!

Once again, I vow never to watch the Bachelor again. Tonight's "most shocking finale ever" pushed me past the point of annoyance. I just had a feeling that Jake would choose Vienna, mainly because the editing made the opposite seem so blatantly obvious. I.don't.get.it.

At the start of the season, I think I was Jake's only fan. He seemed pretty level-headed and down to earth. Surely he would at least make a decent decision. Wrong. Turns out, these "contestants" are attracted to the crazy train like a moth to a flame.

My husband must have paused the finale at least a half dozen times to explain to my why Jake is going to choose Vienna. I have to say, he totally nailed this one. He explained that Vienna is always lurching for Jake while Tenley waits for Jake to come to her. I think this has to do with the fact that she was previously married and very hurt. Vienna, on the other hand, seems on a perpetual spring break, always ready to throw herself at her latest prospect (in this case, Jake). Turns out, Jake reacted positively to this forward approach (shocker!).

The only person not unbelievably annoyed by this season is Jeffrey Osborne. A entire generation has been introduced to "On the Wings of Love," perhaps resurrecting his career. I'm happy for him, actually...and disappointed in myself (once again). I.am.done.