WAYT: Housecleaning

News from the front: I finally got a new job! I've been busy getting started there and putting the past behind me.

Nearly all of 2012, for me, was spent searching for this new job. I'm lucky my new place chose me, and I'm lucky to live here in Bloomington, Illinois, where there are still choices available and I can decide to look for a new job and eventually find success. I know in this country right now, not many people can say that.

Now I'm looking forward to 2013. I feel like it's going to be a banner year for the Arnolts household. My husband will complete his Master's degree. My son will turn 3 years old and WILL be potty trained. The world will keep on spinning, and hopefully, changing for the better. I've set some goals for myself. Hopefully I can relay my progress to my readers through this page. Please stay tuned!

2012 was mostly a calamity. Part of my radio silence for the last little while was prompted by Sandy Hook. I wanted to come on here and rant endlessly about the failure of every legislator in the US to take gun violence seriously. But I was plagued with grief for the tiny babies who were lost. All I could think was, what if one of those babies was their parents ONLY baby? The Sandy Hook tragedy was overwhelming, unnecessary, and unbearably hard to wrap my mind around. Still, every mention of it makes me weepy.

Luckily, the election turned out just as I knew it would. I say luckily for a whole host of reasons, but in this instance, I say it because I'm hopeful that President Obama, more than any other person, can achieve some meaningful change to gun laws that will protect my husband - a teacher - and my son - a baby and future public school student - and myself - a private citizen with everything to lose. I won't even bother to apply my sentiments to Illinois. This state is so backwards, I hold out no hope and see no point in wasting my breath.

In Washington DC, of course, it's business as usual. Which is to say, no one who has been elected to represent us can make tough decisions unless they receive assurances that the big money is still behind them - which isn't the "us" they were chosen to represent. If the fiscal cliff "negotiations" didn't give each person reason to pause and realize each legislator's true measure, I don't know what will. Without doubt, we will face the same last-minute scrambling when the next law with a deadline comes "creeping" up on us.

It makes me sad that this is the state of our union. But there are many other types and forms of unions that are equally important in my life where my voice can be heard. This is my hope for 2013.

WAYT: I’m onto your mind games, social media!

I’ve been gone from this site for so long, it’s almost laughable that I’m writing now.  As usual, the naysayer Devil on my shoulder is cackling about it because he thinks no one has missed me.  It’s hard not to believe that he’s right, but I feel fairly certain that there are enough people who used to read this blog that surely they’ll be glad I’m back. 

And that is my problem these days.  Between Facebook, Twitter and the hits and comments on my blog pages, I seem to think that everyone is my friend.  Maybe I spend too much time conversing with the Devil on my shoulder exclusively, or maybe people are really my friends. 

I’ll never know, because Facebook, Twitter and comments are so faceless and without value, that in my heart of hearts, I know it’s all superficial.  It’s not real friendship.  (But is it????)

Case in point: I feel like I am best friends forever with Jack Morrissey and Sylvain Reynard.  Jack Morrissey is Bill Condon’s main squeeze.  Yes, you read that right – Bill Condon, as in, major Hollywood film director.  Sylvain Reynard is the millionaire author of these books that I totally love (read about it here and here).  I’ve exchanged tweets and/or Facebook messages and comments with these two totally awesome, mega-rich and greatly beloved people and if anyone asked me, I’d tell everyone all about those tiny few words we’ve shared. 

Because social media wants me to think they’re my best friends.  Social media wants me to believe that these interactions make me someone special to these people who are so much larger in life than little old me. 

But really, are SR and Jack telling their friends, “Oh my gosh, this chick Kayla from Illinois tweeted me and I totally wrote her back and now we’re best friends because I love her Facebook profile picture!”?  The answer is no.  I need to get some perspective.  (But really, if you’re my Facebook friend, I don’t know how you can’t LOVE my profile picture.)

Except the sad thing is that I’m totally addicted to social media for that exact reason: I think they’re my friends and I want to keep that connection alive. 

Today, I curse myself and whatever I must be thinking, setting myself up for a sad, empty life with no tweets and no notification on my Facebook homepage from these celebrities and important people.  I also curse myself for hoping that they’ll read this and remember that one time we were BFF because Facebook and Twitter brought us together for one magical moment, and I want us to hold hands and sit around the warm campfire of our shared interests once more. 

“It’s all so laughable,” the Devil reminds me, so that I never forget.  Curse him to Hell!

WAYT: Clothes on, mouth shut

Right now, it’s a tie for “Most Media Ignorant” between Mitt Romney and Kate Middleton. 

Yesterday, Mitt Romney was secretly recorded saying some rather unflattering things about the American public.  Last week, nearly all of Kate Middleton’s physical form was revealed in the tabloids. 

What are those two thinking? 

In our world today, did either of them really expect any level of privacy?  All the Republicans have done since Sarah Palin is complain about the “gotcha” media.  Did Mitt forget that there is never an “off” moment?  And did Kate learn nothing from the princes and princesses who came before her?  She really shouldn’t think that there’s any safe place to take off all her clothes.  If I were her, I’d worry about my own bedroom.

I certainly feel that Kate should be able to take a vacation and escape from the ever-present paparazzi.  But she can’t.  And I certainly feel that Mitt Romney should be able to confide with his people about his true feelings about the American electorate.  But there’s always some margin of risk, and they both know that. 

For these individuals, the revelations of these unguarded moments are ill-timed and unwelcome.  Kate is the new People’s Princess.  Mostly everyone loves her and is charmed by her low-maintenance and unassuming persona.  Mitt is trying to be our next president, so he wants everyone to like him and be charmed by his persona, whatever that may be. 

There definitely isn’t enough outrage over what Mitt said.  His comments are insulting.  But I have to say, I really don’t follow his logic.  If, according to him, nearly 1 in 2 Americans expect a hand-out and are so lazy and uninterested in life as we know it, does he really believe that those people vote?  We all have the right to vote, but of course not everyone does.  So Mitt, I find your statements to be false.  And rude.  The disenfranchised (whether by unemployment, injury, disability or yes, laziness) don’t expect to change their lives at the ballot box; they start at their local non-profit organizations or government offices.  If you don’t like that (who does?), give me a solution, not a dismissive one-liner.

There should be outrage over what happened to Kate, and I really think the media (who aren’t publishing the nude photos) is getting the tone about right.  Maybe you could see her nudity from the street – with a super-zoom camera lens – but that doesn’t mean you put it in a magazine like it’s a Playboy spread.  I guarantee that if Kate had seen that photographer, she would have been horribly mortified and had the person arrested immediately.  Now she’s had her entire body exposed to the world.  For any woman who isn’t an exhibitionist, and Kate certainly appears to prefer modesty, there is nothing worse than something like this.  I don’t blame her for pressing charges.  I find this to be a criminal invasion also.

(Maybe it’s seems hypocritical of me to approve of the media coverage of Prince Harry’s nudity but not Kate’s.  The difference here is that Harry was getting naked for a whole room full of people.  Kate was with her husband, in a private, secluded place.  Surely she intended for no one BUT William to see her.  I live for celebrity gossip and I didn’t even know she was on vacation.)

Even for me, who is basically no one in the grand scheme of the universe, little more than a tiny speck on the planet Earth, I expect no reasonable amount of privacy.  Facebook tracks my every move, my employer can read all of my emails even if I delete them or never send them, and my cell phone is constantly broadcasting my location.  No one, least of all those in the spotlight, should be surprised that everything they do is newsworthy, and blows up exponentially whenever it falls outside the lines. 

We live in a guarded time – one that makes us insular and ignorant.  It restricts us, and it’s making our society ugly.  Some of us stalk out princesses in order to show their goods to the entire world without their knowledge or permission.  Some of us set up presidential candidates to make unflattering, blanket statements about huge segments of our population on camera, and then share them anonymously with every news organization under the sun with the goal of discrediting the target.  That doesn’t make what Mitt said entirely wrong, or what Kate did entirely right.  But it should force us to look at ourselves through a magnified lens too. 

What are we thinking, that this is what we have become?  I, for one, am embarrassed for all of us. 

WAYT: Remembering Katrina

It was seven years ago that Hurricane Katrina changed the United States.  For me back then, my life was very different.  (I’m sure we all viewed the world differently before Katrina.) 

I was sitting on my couch in my rented apartment, next to the Long John Silver’s in Jacksonville, Illinois.  My roommate was at work and if memory serves, I was just getting started on my first homework assignments for my senior year of college. 

From my living room window, I could see a gas station.  I watched the price per gallon tick higher and higher as the streets of New Orleans flooded and trapped the people on their rooftops and sent them fleeing to the Superdome. 

I went to New Orleans once.  It was my first vacation without my mom and my first college spring break.  I loved it there.  I’m convinced that, in a previous life, I was a southerner.  There is something about every state in the southern US that I’ve visited that makes me feel like I’m at home.  But New Orleans, with its creepy and eclectic vibe, was a unique experience for me.  Even after only few short days there, I could feel the imprint that the city left on me. 

I was sad for the city, seeing it destroyed the way that it was, but I was even more saddened in the days that followed the storm, as we all learned through the lens of a TV camera what it felt like for those New Orleans residents to be all alone in a huge, bleeding and gasping horde.  Beyond New Orleans, the response was just as ugly.  We weren’t prepared and we didn’t do enough.  In fairness, I’m not sure we could have ever been fully prepared…

What I’m thinking, as Hurricane Isaac rolls in to test the city once again, is that I hope we’ll do better this time.  I hope the levees and flood walls are stronger, I hope the people are smarter and I hope that we are ready to support New Orleans and all of those who will be affected by Isaac. 

Back in 2005, the help was weak to say the least.  We shouldn’t only do better now because we owe them better – we should do better because we know how.  By now, every government investigation and every TV pundit has called us out.  Our way to a more successful response is clear. 

It’s tragic that we’re getting a second chance to do right by the Gulf Coast residents in a time of extreme crisis.  We can’t get our innocence back – we can’t pretend that Katrina didn’t show our dark side.  But that pesky Golden Rule applies here: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  Maybe the first time around, we forgot about that.  As the necessary response grew and the costs climbed, maybe people got worried about the nickels and dimes.  And that’s an important consideration, especially now as the US is struggling in a seemingly never-ending recession. 

But you can’t put a price on what the response to the crisis means.  Katrina was already ugly – destruction everywhere, rampant despair – but then we added the sub par response to it and everything was so much worse.  Isaac needs a better PR face, to be sure, but I sincerely hope that wasn’t the only lesson we’ve learned in seven years. 

It’s worth it to pick up the pieces from all of these storms.  I know that New Orleans and every town around it is worth the effort.  And if you’ve never been to the Gulf Coast before, don’t let these storms keep you away.  No matter what, the South is always welcoming, and they’ll carry on no matter what Mother Nature dumps on them.  But the least we can do is commit to doing better, that’s all I’m asking for.

WAYT: Ryan Lochte is the worst party guest

I honestly don’t care that Prince Harry got naked in Vegas.  What I do care about, is that he would spend his free time with Ryan Lochte.  What are you thinking, Henry Charles Albert David?

Everyone knows that Harry is the cheeky prince.  Maybe I’d have to be British to be outraged that he was up to no good on his post-Olympics vacation.  Except that I’ve accepted Harry for who he is, so I’m just not surprised that he got caught again. 

Harry once made a real mistake, dressing up like a Nazi for Halloween.  (Harry really needs to get some better security who will sweep his playmates for recording devices.)  But this isn’t that big of a deal.  He went to Vegas, found some chicks who wanted to hang with him (me, me!), became inebriated, and took off his knickers.  I’ve been to Vegas and didn’t party like that, but we all know this is the type of thing that Vegas is meant for.

Everyone makes mistakes.  Everyone has lapses in judgment.  And at least no one is filing charges against him. 

In my opinion, the most egregious offense is that Harry would grant an audience to Ryan Lochte.  Sure, the guy is a decorated Olympian.  Sure, all of the American swimmers are nice to look at – I don’t know how you you could train as hard as they do and not become a drool-worthy physical specimen.  But the fact of the matter is, Ryan Lochte is obnoxious. 

A grill on the medal podium?  The catch phrase “Jeah”?  Allowing your mom to tell the morning news shows that you deal in one night stands?  This guy annoys me more than Justin Bieber.  I admire Lochte’s talent, but he’s a punk. 

Of course the media is blowing this whole story way out of proportion.  It’s not a violation of free speech for the monarchy to ask the press to leave the pictures of Harry off the front page.  I personally don’t need to see Harry’s crown jewels covered by a black dot.  That would be an exploitation of Harry, and in my opinion, a violation of his right to privacy.  When the Queen tells the press they had better not publish the pictures, that’s the message that I receive.  If you think that Harry meant for the whole world to see these pictures, I’m sure you’re wrong.    

The media is always on a witch hunt.  They always want to sensationalize beyond all reason, and they always want to tear everyone down to their lowest common denominator. 

I don’t find Harry to be a disgrace.  I find him to be remarkably honest in his youth and inexperience.  If anyone’s lived a sheltered life, I’m sure it’s him.  Sure, he’s met world leaders and fills a huge public role for Great Britain, but he’s still young, still a bachelor, and still one of the richest guys on the planet, surrounded by people who try to protect his interests because he’s not capable of doing it for himself all the time.  How sensible can you be when you live his life?  I wonder. 

Don’t you suppose that Harry feels pretty lonely and sad now?  There he was, having a great time and letting loose, and now he’s been exposed and ridiculed and it’s still not enough – the press and the public want more.  It’s actually disgusting that anyone would turn his Vegas trip into what it’s become. 

And while I’m preaching, for heaven’s sake Ryan Lochte, quit whoring yourself out for any promotional opportunity you can find.  What are you thinking?  You don’t need to be The Bachelor, you don’t need to copyright every stupid thought that ends up coming out of your mouth and you don’t need this much attention.  You are about to cross the line that Harry hasn’t.  Be content with your Wheaties box and leave us all alone for a while. 

P.S. I’ve been gone for a while due to site maintenance.  In case you were wondering…

WAYT: Splash some cold water on your face

I love the summer Olympics.  It’s like a special treat, during these long months when network TV is mostly showing re-runs, to see some fresh programming.  It makes me happy to see other people exercising and/or generally showing some spunk on TV while I sit on my couch, snacks within easy reach.  Also, the Olympics feel special to me.  I love the camaraderie of it all (though I’m sure those competing against one another don’t feel the same way). 

It’s not that I feel solidarity with my fellow Americans and experience a rush of nationalistic pride; it’s nothing like that.  Maybe it’s seeing some of the strongest people in our country showing that some of us can set our minds to something, follow through and be successful.  Maybe it’s seeing these athletes perform so effortlessly.  Maybe it’s remembering when I used to have that drive and those same aspirations. 

I grew up in gymnastics.  As early as I can remember, I went to tumbling classes and I stayed in tumbling until well past the age when it was cool.  My grandma is a big USA supporter and one summer Olympics, she went all out and bought me all sorts of cool USA gear.  I didn’t realize at that age that I would not ever be Dominique Moceanu, but that didn’t stop me from feeling as if she was living out my dream. 

I can’t help but see the other side of Olympic fame when I look at Michael Phelps.  Here’s a guy who has been the face of the summer Olympics for the US for over a decade and clearly has a love/hate relationship with the whole thing. 

Many people must wonder what is he thinking?  Doesn’t he love all this money?  Doesn’t he have that killer instinct driving him to win, win, win?  Doesn’t he want more gold medals?  Is he lazy?

I can’t tell.  I can tell this much: we are lucky that Michael Phelps ever met up with a swimming pool. 

When he was a boy, his mom could have signed him up for golf or lacrosse.  He could have hated swimming.  When she found out he was a good swimmer, she could have encouraged him to take up lifeguarding.  He might have liked that – chilling in a big chair with an umbrella, checking out cute girls.  When she started carting him around the the far ends of the earth to compete in every swimming match ever, she could have put her foot down.  He could have decided that he didn’t want to become The Michael Phelps we know today. 

And yet it’s 2012 and he’s still here.  He lost his first individual race and everyone thinks the sky is falling.  Maybe he was stunned that he lost; maybe he didn’t know it was possible to NOT medal in every single event now that he’s become who he has become.  Maybe he felt lighter; maybe it’s a burden to carry so many expectations on your uniquely-jointed shoulders.  Maybe he felt stunned and lighter – a strange contradiction he never expected to feel. 

It’s no secret that he could train harder.  Which means that it should serve as no surprise that he’s not a shark.  He doesn’t bite at others the way even his own teammates bite at him.  I believe that he loves a competition, but I could also see where he feels he’s already done what he felt driven to do.  Maybe he’s gotten all he ever wanted and he feels at peace with resting on his laurels, picking the races where he’ll take fourth place.  Or maybe he’s a three-time Olympian in a sport that requires a lot, and he doesn’t have what it takes to train hard enough anymore. 

We may never know about any of that.  I think that everyone needs to back off the guy.  Some people act like he Owes Us something because Our Country sent him there to Represent Us and it’s all Very Important.  Then again, none of us are exactly perfect, and we can’t be exactly perfect even when it matters most.  On one of the most important days of my life, the day I was supposed to give birth to my son, I couldn’t.  My body tried and tried and then it gave up on me and my doctors had to resort to doing the work for me.  Michael Phelps doesn’t have to be more than me to continue to be Michael Phelps.  Four years ago, he wowed, awed, amazed, and shocked me – he was more than I could have ever asked for in a US Olympic athlete.  This year, he’s less than that, but he is still who he always was. 

Don’t worry – he’s enough.  And that’s true of all the other athletes we sent to London, especially female gymnast Jordyn Wieber and male gymnast John Orozco.  I say, be still and enjoy the show. 

WAYT: No place for Penn State love

It is clear to me that there is a fundamental misunderstanding in the general populace and among national sports commentators regarding the punishments levied against Pennsylvania State University (PSU) by the NCAA.  From what I’m hearing, these people just don’t get it. 

The most notable punishments include a four year postseason ban, a $60 million fine, a five year probation that slashes scholarships, and all of its wins since 1998 have been erased from the record books.

You think that the punishments are unjust?  Really?  I cannot fathom what you are thinking. 

Several of the quotes that struck me include:

Penn State student Alex Gibson: "[Vacating] The wins … we didn't cheat in football, that's unnecessary."

PSU student Maddy Proy: "It just keeps piling on and on.  We are a huge family and this is just a huge blow to our family."

Michael Robinson, former PSU player from 2002-2005 who went on to play in the NFL: "Jerry was a sick man.  I just don't think that our program is defined by the actions of one sick individual."

ESPN columnist J. A. Adande: "Why punish athletes who weren't even around when all of this was transpiring?"

ESPN's Jeremy Schaap: "The immediate impact is that the NCAA is allowing student athletes to transfer without penalty.  That means there might be a mass exodus … with no hope of playing at a bowl game, no hope to play in a championship, you would expect to see most of Penn State's top players move out of there."

Alex, Joe Paterno did cheat in football.  He managed his staff in such a way that they were allowed to sexually abuse children on the PSU campus.  The victims were cheated out of an innocent and safe childhood, and the lucky ones who didn’t become victims were left vulnerable regardless.  Anyone who could have crossed paths with Jerry Sandusky was cheated, because any person at any time could have been sexually abused by him.  Paterno decided that football was more important than people.  That’s cheating. 

Maddy, no one is piling on your family.  Your family, a host of individuals corrupted by money and power, violated the laws of Pennsylvania (and all widely accepted codes of moral ethics).  The university that harbored these criminals will now receive the punishment they (so richly) deserve.  If you feel pressured by that, then maybe you’re starting to get the point.  And maybe you should re-evaluate who you include in your family.  I wouldn’t want Joe Paterno in my family.

Mr. Robinson, your program was defined by Jerry Sandusky’s actions.  From top to bottom, behind closed doors, the coaches and administration acknowledged Sandusky’s despicable acts and decided that it was a risk they were willing to take on your behalf.  You, as a former participant in the PSU football program, should be outraged that they put you at risk in this manner.    

Mr. Adande, the punishments are intended to revitalize the program.  If PSU takes a break from their constant striving for wins, maybe they’ll fix their broken system that turned a blind eye to child rape and exploitation for the sake of fame and money. 

And finally, Mr. Schaap, these kids should leave.  PSU obviously doesn’t have its act together.  I’d say it’d be best for PSU to lessen their responsibilities so that the university can focus on its core responsibility. 

That responsibility is the following: INSTITUTIONS OF LEARNING EXIST SOLELY BECAUSE THERE ARE STUDENTS TO EDUCATE. 

This is the only purpose that any teacher serves, to receive students with open arms and fill their minds with knowledge.  Sports are EXTRA.  PSU didn’t, one day back in history, spring from the ground as a football mecca.  PSU is a UNIVERSITY.  If they can’t handle sports, then they should stick to the basics. 

There is nothing in this world that disgusts me more than the idea that grown adults would prey upon small, young children to fulfill their prurient, sociopathic sexual desires.  Truly, even the thought of such a thing makes me simultaneously wretch and fight off a bout of emotional hysteria.  A man who was informed that Jerry Sandusky was committing child rape and decided that was alright deserves to have his statues torn down, his epic football legacy erased, his reputation tarnished beyond recognition. 

Imagine it was you who was Victim #5.  Imagine it was the person you love most.  Get.  Some.  Perspective.