Hear that "Splat?"

That’s the sound of my head exploding. Let me bring you, dear reader, up to speed on the goings on around here.

In the past couple of weeks, D. and I have:
1. Hosted a big Obama Inauguration Dance Party (it was awesome!);
2. Starred occupied space in a TV spot that filmed over two nights (like midnight to 8 am), which screwed royally with my sleep/wake/work schedule;
3. Babysat a four year old for an evening (nearly three entire hours);
4. Continued on our balance-the-budget, no-wine-for-you, never-eat-in-a-restaurant-again lives.

The good news is I have been working a bunch:
1. Writing copy for a website;
2. Writing copy for a media kit;
3. Writing copy for a direct mailer;
4. Writing four blog posts a week (for a client, not me!);
5. Had a crash course in writing for SEO, Marketing for Social Media, Marketing for Social Networking;
6. And stayed on top of all the keywords and metatags, twittering, posting, templating, widgets, application development, viral video, Facebook, LinkedIn, Hulu, YouTube and MySpace activity that one person could possibly handle.

The bad news is, apparently copywriting has been outsourced overseas while I wasn't looking and nobody wants to pay anything. Blech. Such is the life of the American worker with a big mortgage.

I had a really great Super Bowl post in my head. Then it exploded and the moment has passed.

Maybe I’ll be more interesting next time.

He Knew We Could

I’ve never heard so many people express the same sentiment before: that they never thought they would see the day come. Not in their lifetimes would it come. The day when a black person would be President of the United States. The day blacks and whites, Natives and Asians would unite behind him, as one, in joy and hope.

But I didn’t share that sentiment. I didn’t think the day would never come. This is not to say that I thought they were wrong when they said it would never happen. I hoped they were wrong. I knew in my heart that the goodness in all of us would one day see beyond the color of a man’s skin. I believed Dr. King’s dream would be a reality. I hoped I was right.

I hear and respect their sentiment, their disbelief. I honor the men and women who pilgrimaged to Washington DC to see it happen with their own eyes. The elders who truly believed it would never happen in their lifetimes. Their faces washed of the pain of past inequalities, and reflecting the highest level of joy. The young, exuberant faces, free of the fatigue their parents and grandparents know so well. All watching, together, as President Obama and his family stepped into their rightful places in our country’s history.

I know that I sound more than just a little bit naïve when I say I knew we could.

He said “Yes, We Can.” He knew all along.