Quote of the Day: 20 Years...

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

-- Mark Twain

Strange Ways in Southwest Florida

The weatherman calls for a chilly day in south Florida. The highs will only reach about 75 degrees.

The dog hunts for frogs near the pool, then cries when she finds the frog.

The gardener is also the pool man.

Alligators bathe in the neighborhood lake.

There is a panther sunning itself on the golf course, and the golfers don't seem to mind.

It's a strange way in southwest Florida.

The Airport

One of the best people-watching places in the world. Any airport. Thousands of people.

I once dated a boy who would humor with silly games. We would sit on the front stoop of our apartments and guess where the passersby were headed. Whether by car, bike, or the occasional plane that flew above the city, it was always a wonderment to me where people get up and go to.

At 5:30 a.m., it's already a busy morning at Logan International Airport. The kids are pulling their Hello Kitty suitcases behind them while holding tightly to teddy bears, blankets or Mom. Parents are eagerly searching for the first cup of coffee, but nothing is open yet. Business travelers are already on their laptops communicating with the rest of the world.

The JetBlue place that is taking me to Florida sits at the gate. Lights are on inside the plane and the ground crew is buzzing around the plane's belly making sure everything is sorted for flight.

In the distance, an airline takes off... I wonder where it's going...

Tuesday Travel

Tomorrow I'm off to Fort Myers for Thanksgiving.

Alarm set for 4 a.m. Flight leaves at 6:10 a.m.
Tired just thinking about it. Maybe I'll sleep on the plane... unlikely.

Dear Pilot,
Here's good wishes for a safe flight. We're expecting some bad weather, so let's get up and over it quickly.

I have my magazines in my bag. My suitcase is packed.

Dinner tonight with an old D.C. friend, then home to bed. Tomorrow = Mom and Dad. Sis arrives on Thursday, just in time for turkey and Mom's famous stuffing.

The Starbucks Effect

I'm working on a report due the moment I walk in the office Monday morning. I've spent the past few months working on this in hopes it delivers exactly what we need: notoriety. In working on this report, I've spent countless hours on phone interviews, email chats with analysts overseas and online researching stats and forecasts. Today I devoted all day to completing this report. My reward: window shopping at the Natick Collection tomorrow. I'm a firm believer in window shopping - no need to purchase; a little imagination goes a long way.

In order to stay true to my deadline, I needed a change of scenery. I've worked on this report in the office and in the apartment and everything is just stale. This morning, I bundled up, grabbed my laptop and walked to Starbucks. I grabbed the first table near an outlet, spread out my paper work and powered up the HP. I ordered my grande Pike Place, got my 10 percent off thanks to my Starbucks Gold Card, and started writing.

Louie Armstrong is blowing his horn over the sound system. It's the holidays, and everything from the paper cups to the tracks spinning on the Starbucks stereo system says so.

The lines come and go, and Jenna behind the counter comes out to check on me every so often.

"You doing OK? Can I get you anything?"

"Nah, I'm OK... just plugging away."

"That man would like to buy you a coffee," she says, and points to a white-haired and wrinkled older gentleman who I've seen around the neighborhood. He's a friend of my landlord's; I believe his name is Gus.

"Thanks," I say, and wink in Gus' direction.

The place is filling up again. Starbucks seems like everyone's retreat. Here, there doesn't seem to be a recession - at least not one that a good cappuccino or a salted hot chocolate can't fix.

Working for the Weekend

Sing it loud, sing it proud!

"Everybody's working for the weekend
Everybody wants a little romance
Everybody's goin' off the deep end
Everybody needs a second chance."

-Loverboy

I'm a Pepper, You're a Pepper, Wouldn't You Love a Free Pepper?

Who knew Axl Rose and Slash would the ones to help the economy. Well, soda lovers, you can thank your guitar heroes for free Dr Pepper.

Now that Guns N' Roses released its "Chinese Democracy" album, the makers of Dr Pepper are making good on their promise to give free soda to everyone in America.

You've got 24 hours to claim your drink ticket on Dr Pepper's Web site starting Sunday. Drink up! It's free.

Welcome to the jungle, baby...

Lyrics of the Day

"Here you are in the ninth
Two men out and three men on
Nowhere to look but inside
Where we all respond to...Pressure."

- "Pressure," Billy Joel

My Hour: 3 a.m.

I've spent a few days away from the blog handling a few personal matters and working against an at-work deadline, thus, my one hour has been neglected. And now, I'm afraid I have the flu.

It's 3:25 a.m. and I'm awake. Maybe because I've been asleep since 6 p.m. last night, maybe because I just can't sleep anymore, or maybe because it's so damn cold in my bedroom. The joys of an old apartment building: great woodwork, but old wood, which means cracks and creases that let in the cold air.

At 3:29 a.m. I'm flipping through the channels.

Found: "Stardust Memories"; Woody Allen, circa 1980

Total movie time: 89 minutes. Hour starts now.

Wisdom of Dr. Seuss

"I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!"

--Dr. Seuss

British Airways: Hear My Aisle Seat Prayer

If you've flown British Airways, you know that you can't check-in and choose your seats until 24 hours before you flight.

Here I am, 24-hours before my flight, and I still can't check-in. Why? Because you need your passport information to check-in and of course, my passport is sitting at home on my dresser in prime position for packing this evening.

So, British Airways... hear my prayer: I need an aisle seat. Claustrophobia at 33,000-feet over the Atlantic is not a fun for anyone, especially the people I'll need to push out of the way when I can't sit still and need to walk the plane.

I will log in first-thing this evening when I get home, with my passport in hand and pray an isle seat is waiting for me.

One Hour: Gone

Where did my one hour go?

I made a pact with my friend Legally Brunette to devote one hour of our days to us, and I failed on day three. Ironically, 3 is my lucky number so that's somewhat disappointing. I read her one hours and I'm so jealous...grocery shopping, cuddle breaks with husband, TV time. She's done an exceptional job at sticking to the pact. I, on the other hand, didn't get very far.

In my fridge: parmesan cheese and bottled water.
On my sofa: No husband with whom to cuddle.
On the TV: Not sure, as the sound is muted.

Work started at 7 a.m. Work ended at 7:30 p.m. Family crisis started at 6:30 p.m. Hiatus from 7-7:15 p.m., while I was interviewing a source for an article. Family crisis re-started at 7:15 p.m.

It's almost 9 p.m. and I haven't had dinner, haven't gone through the pile of mail on my kitchen counter, and while I have had a couple glasses of wine, I feel it's lost of me as I'm nowhere near relaxed as I should be.

Flip side: Busy, but productive day at work. Good meetings - albeit exhausting - and thankful for a job I love getting up for every day.

I'll end this post now in an effort to jump on the coming hour. First, "The Office," followed by "30 Rock" - 1 hour of prime-time comedy. Fingers crossed.

Quote of the Day

"Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great."

--Mark Twain

Sovereign Bank ATM

I try and limit my rants about businesses and places of work to a minimum. After all, we're all human and we all make mistakes. I didn't blog about the D-Team Starbucks on School Street right away - many screw-ups before I stated my boycott. I didn't say anything about Boston Sports Club until the very last penny. And that's why, I haven't said anything about Sovereign Bank... until today.

I've accepted the past fuck-ups from the bank customer service in the past. To err is human, right? And, all the problems were rectified - once I caught them. But it begs the question, why did the mistakes happen in the first place? This isn't coffee we're talking about - this is MONEY. So today, I've finally had enough, hence the Sovereign Bank Blog Post.

I went to the ATM to withdraw $200, which I was promptly going to turn into British pounds for this weekend's flight to London. I withdrew the money, took the receipt and grabbed my card, and walked over to Citizen's Bank to exchange my money. When I arrived at Citizen's Bank, I handed over my cash - all $160. Wait... what?

Deep sigh.

OK, maybe I misplaced the money. Maybe I didn't take all the money. But really, I'm not that scattered, especially when it comes to money. I chalked it up to a simple technology error. Shit happens. I believe in karma, so my hope is that if it wasn't technology and I'm really stupid enough to leave $40 sitting on a ledge, someone needy picked up the money and was able to do something useful with the cash.

My friend at Citizen's suggested I call Sovereign, if nothing else because there might be a problem with the ATM. So I called... and I waited... and waited... and waited... and after 8 minutes and 16 seconds I hung up. I'm really quite busy today.

So instead I sent a note to customer service via email.

"Hello,

I am hoping someone can call me as soon as possible. After I waited on hold over the phone for more than 8 minutes, I decided to try an email and hope for a better response.

I withdrew $200 from a Boston Sovereign ATM, but I only received $160 from the ATM. I'm sure it sounds crazy, but I took the money, put it in my wallet and went to purchase currency for $200. When I went to pull the money from my wallet, I had only $160. There must be something Sovereign Bank can do! I have the ATM number, time, date, etc. and would happy to explain the situation to anyone."

Here is the response I received:

"Thank you for your recent email. If you withdrew funds with your Sovereign ATM card from a Sovereign ATM please contact a Personal Banking Representative at the number listed below.

Sincerely,
JV (initials used to protect the name)
Sovereign Direct, Email Team"

OK, so... clearly a live person read my email. Or didn't read my email. The first thing I said in my email is that I had waited on hold for more than 8 minutes when I tried to call a personal banking representative, so WHY would you suggest I do that again? Why?

Now I realize this sounds silly, but again, keep in mind that I've refrained from making bad claims about businesses in the past until the really irk me. I'm worn out. I'm tired of holding for periods of time to reclaim money that 1) is rightfully mine and 2) I put in the account in the first place!

Next step: Changing banks.

Hour 2: Nearing Exhaustion

"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."
-Mark Twain

Meetings all day. Exhausted from thinking.

Took my hour to visit my meditation coach. It helped, even though I went back to the office afterwards. The evening ended at the posh restaurant across the street with the London visitors. We drank wine, ate dinner and chatted about politics, shopping and the ways of the world.

Today's one hour wasn't as productive as I had wished, but it was something.

Hour 1

Monday's are always the toughest days.
Wake up after a bad night's sleep. Drag myself to work. Open email.

Email: approximately a dozen notes requesting meetings for this week, and another dozen requesting to change already scheduled meetings to another time this week.

Organize to-do list. Get to-doing.

I opted to leave at 5 p.m. tonight and get started on my "hour of me."

I signed in at the gym, changed clothes and hit the treadmill. TV on. Headphones in. I ran 1.5 miles while watching the end of the 5:00 news and a few minutes of "Hardball with Chris Matthews."

Total time = 20 minutes.

I moved to the bike, attempted to put my water bottle in the holder but missed. Water everywhere. On my way back from the towel stand to wipe up my mess, I grabbed the latest "OK" magazine - Angelina wants to adopt more babies and the details of Madonna and Guy Ritchie's divorced are detailed in this issue. I selected the pre-set 20 minute hill-interval workout, and started pedaling. I opted for an episode of "King of Queens," instead of my usual news info. I don't care what the guy behind me thinks of my TV pleasure - it's my one hour. My thighs were burning after 12 miles.

Total time = 20 minutes.

Move to the leg machine, strap myself in, and start my 100 calf lifts. 44 pounds each leg. Calfs burning.

Music on the iPod: Cake, Distance.
Total time = 3 minutes. 1 minute each leg, 1 minute of break.

Move to the bench for sit-ups. I crunched through "Dontcha", courtesy of the Pussycat Dolls.
Total time = 4 minutes, 30 seconds.

I spent the rest of my hour stretching and it felt good. I wanted eggs for dinner. I stopped off at two grocery marts on my way home - both out of eggs. Who runs out of eggs? Starving, and annoyed that my hour was disturbed by no eggs, I grabbed a slice of cheese pizza and walked home.

I enjoyed the pizza, but I'd rather have eggs. Better luck tomorrow.

One Hour.

Starting this week, a new pact: For the rest of the month, I will devote one hour a day to me. My friend over at Legally Brunette has joined the cause for rejuvenation. After spending too much time wondering where the time goes, it's time to get time back - if only for one hour.

The problem is my day is frantic enough:
Up at 6am, at work by 7am, on the phone with London by 9am, work, work, work, work, work. Leave work between 5-6pm (depending on day's events). Home. Log on to computer. Cook quick dinner. Handle whatever family crisis has come my way. Work. Return any last-minute emails. Pass out on sofa. Move to bed. Start over.

The mission: In this chaos, find one hour for me. That means no phone calls, no computer, no work. I've never been a bubble bath and trashy magazine girl, but maybe I'll start. Or, maybe I'll use the one hour to read or watch TV. Or, maybe I'll devote an hour to a book chapter - either mine or someone else - each night.

OK. Starting today. One hour. Ready, set, go.

Quote of the Weekend

"Why is it men are permitted to be obsessed about their work, but women are only permitted to be obsessed about men?"

-Barbara Streisand

The Rally

I was 12-years-old when I participated in my first political rally. My Mom packed me into the gold Oldsmobile Cutlas Sierra and we pulled out of Penwood Court on a mission: we were headed to Jefferson City to support the pro-choice movement.

Political rallies and sit-ins were nothing new to Missouri's capitol city - throughout the 20th century, Missouri's placement in middle America made it a stomping and standing ground for civil rights and war protests. On this day in 1987, Mom and I were going to be part of an equally important movement: women's rights.

We arrived in Jefferson City early that morning. I'll never forget walking toward the grey slate steps of the Capitol Building. The streets and sidewalks were lined with protesters -- pro-life and pro-choice. A sky of picket signs blanketed my view and people were shouting at each other, but I wondered if they were listening.

"What's in the jar, Mom?" I asked, pointing to an erect card table on the sidewalk that held six glass jars, sitting at even lengths one next to the other.

"It's an unborn fetus," she replied.

"What?!" I gasped. I couldn't stop staring, and at the same time I was completely captivated by the display. It's as if jars of pickles were being put on display for a first-prize ribbon. "WHY would someone put an unborn fetus in a jar?"

"It's their way of telling women that having an abortion means killing a child."

"Well, isn't it the woman's right to chose, Mom?"

She looked at me and smiled. At that moment, I think my Mom knew she had made a difference in my life.

What's the Hurry?

Today started like any other day...
Shower, dress, pack up the work bag, lock the door on the way out, hit the pavement by 7:30 a.m. And like every other day, I walked the same route to work at my typical pace - not too fast, but not slow because that's just annoying. I'm a city girl. I get where I need to be on time.

The coach tells me the best time to be thankful is first thing in the morning. Your mind is fresh, you're seeing everything for the first time that day, and because the stressors of work and world haven't gotten to you yet, you can appreciate the little things. I've taken appreciating little things on my way to work... cleaner streets, the first produce man at Haymarket on a Friday morning, the glare of the steel buildings in the financial district when the sun rises over their peak, the coffee that James has ready for me at Starbucks on Washington St. I knew I had a typical b.s. day ahead of me with a few people in the London office, but I was enjoying my 7.5 minute walk to work...

Until some CRAZY LADY PUSHED ME ON THE SIDEWALK. Apparently, the sidewalk wasn't big enough for the both of us, or the completely empty street next to the sidewalk wasn't sufficient enough for her, so instead she put her hands on my arm and pushed me aside so she can walk past me. I stopped in awe, muttered a few things to myself, and then watched as the crazy sidewalk lady made her way down the street, pushing aside the two men with produce carts making early morning deliveries. They were as displeased as I was, only they shouted louder.

Thankfully, the rest of the walk was better and as usual, James at Starbucks greeted me with a smile a venti Pike Place coffee. The world seems less crazy now.

Quote of the Day

"It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.
Yes we can."

-Yes We Can, by Black Eyed Peas' Will.I.Am

I Wonder...

...what will Sarah Palin do now? Some potential job opps:

• Teach a class in the University of Alaska's justice department entitled: "Proper Politics: The Art of Speech and Linguistics for Dummies".
• Become a regular on SNL, maybe filling in for new Mom Amy Phoeler during the Weekend Update. She's no Jane Curtain, but it would be funny if Seth Myers called Palin an "ignorant slut" on air.
  
• Take a job as a personal shopper for Saks Fifth Avenue.
• Practice caribou hunting from a fighter jet (a helicopter is just boring).
• Talk the First Dude into doing her media and press requests from here on out.

Other thoughts?

Dear President-elect Obama,

Today you won a hard-fought battle and your prize is America. It won't be an easy road - there are a lot of challenges ahead of you and whether you like it or not, you've got a horrible mess to clean-up from the last guy. Not even a Saturday Night Live skit can mask the problems America is suffering from, so it's up to you to turn things around.

I voted for you, and I believe in you. Here are some things to keep in mind:

• Don't defy your integrity. It's what got you here; it's what will keep you here.
• Please save my money. I worked hard - very hard - for the little money I have. While I am in a stable job, making a good salary and actually contributing to a real investment plan, I don't feel I'm obligated to give back to the corrupt CEOs or the lazy people who didn't take time to understand policy and procedure before entering into an agreement that would rattle the U.S. economy.
• Please, for the love of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, can you find the man who tried to kill us seven years ago? He's about 6'5", lives in a cave, and reports claim he's on dialysis so it's likely he'll be attached to a couple machines. Be careful, he travels with smart and potentially-dangerous people, but then again, so do you...
• Remember your roots, your community values and the reason you were elected, the change you can bring. This will keep you humble, focused and trusted, unlike the last guy.

Most of all, Mr. President, remember to embrace the opportunity that America has given you. Today marks a significant day in history - the day America cast aside the remnants of our past generations and looked toward the future. We do have a dream, you can help make sure it comes true.

God bless America.
Yours truly,
Frogger

Good News, America: I'm Not Moving

Only in America...

Flashback: Political Quote of the Day

"I don't want to be invited to the family hunting party."

Sen. Barack Obama, on reports that surfaced earlier in the campaign that he and Dick Cheney are somehow related.

Watching the Polls

It's after 12 p.m. EST, which means the West Coast polls have been open for a few hours now. I don't know why now, or why at this moment, but it just hit me that with every minute passing, history is being made today.

Will it be a black man or a conservative woman?

I received an irate IM from a girlfriend about an hour ago. She's truly upset that some people didn't vote today. She says it's her duty, honor and privilege to vote. I say, it's people like her who will ensure that America remains a democratic society. And this guy...

Voting: A Right or a Responsibility?

Question: What if you don't believe in either candidate?

Check out the heated discussion happening over at On Common Ground...

Personally, I believe voting is a responsibility. It's your responsibility as an American to vote for your local, state and federal rules and rights. If you choose not to vote, then you live with what the final decision is, and you forfeit your right to complain about policy-makers. However, you do get the right to bitch about policy, so long as you pay taxes and contribute to state funding.

The Long and Winding Road...

...Leads to the poll booths this morning.

7 a.m. the people were wrapped around four blocks of Boston's North End district. According to some, the line started at 6 a.m.

Hot cup of coffee in hand, residents old and young stood in line this morning to cast their vote for the next president.

I stood in the long and winding road for 45 minutes, then rocked my vote under Precinct 3's roster.

"I can't imagine a person becoming a success who doesn't give this game of life everything he's got."
-Walter Cronkite, Happy 92nd Birthday!

Inside the Voting Booth - Behind the Steel Curtains of America

One day until the most influential election of my generation. Yes, there were influential presidents before tomorrow, but none that I was able to vote for. Tomorrow marks my most powerful vote, and I'm scared as hell.

I've always been an idealist; maybe to a fault or maybe it's what keeps me going. I held on to my idealism when I visited the jail every weekend for three months to interview inmates who claim to be wrongly accused for committing grotesque crimes. I watched in wonderment from the House floor as the President of the United States gave a State of the Union address immediately following the worst attack on U.S. soil, which ignited Americans to unify and fight for their freedom and I wondered, "how can he be so sure we're safe?" I witnessed the American flag rise every morning from the five-starred Pentagon building only to reveal a blown-out section of the very building that defends my freedom, and I still believe. I believe that America is the greatest country in the world - not without its faults, but sacred with strength.

Earlier in the year, I became part of history when I cast a vote for a woman president of the United States. While my vote wasn't able to carry Hilary Clinton into the delegation, I am equally in awe at the option of voting for the first black man as president. This election is a sign of progression, but I shudder to wonder how many Americans are afraid to move ahead.

Can America vote a black man into the highest office, or will the segregated America of years past rear its ugly head behind the steel curtains of the voting booth?

I'm nervous at the news headlines that flood my inbox today:

Obama leading in key voting sectors
One day, eight points
Hope, fears as Harlem gets election fever

Nervous not because of the predictions, but because the predictions might be wrong. Is America voting with heart and soul, or with mixed emotions? Is the Bradley Effect nearing the corner? Will voters say one thing to the pollsters, only to vote the opposite inside the poll booth?

Maybe we're not as evolved as we claim to be. Maybe we need the Maverick mentality to lead us to salvation from the war we didn't want and the economy we lost. Maybe a moose-hunting woman is more influential than a small town senator. Maybe an ex-POW is needed more than an optimistic evolutionary. Or maybe not.

I think of what America would be without Roe vs. Wade, healthcare coverage or an ally in Israel and I am frightened. But I'm comforted by the thought that for one brief moment tomorrow, behind the steel curtains of the polling booth, I'll be at peace with my vote.

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

San Francisco, Pier 14