Wow.

As I was sitting at the final event of the DNC today, I was thinking about the cool things that I have seen. I have heard the inspiring story telling of Maya Angelou in person. I was in the presence of the Dalai Lama as he spoke about kindness. I listened to the Pope pray under the roof of St. Peter's Basilica. And now, I was witness to what feels like a historic event- the beginning of the possibility of not only the first African American president, but I believe a president that would go into the history books not only for his crossing racial boundaries, but his presence as a great leader. Even though I wasn't very close to the stage, Obama's speech tonight reverberated around the packed stadium and never stopped. The energy flowed in that place like something magical. It was like his determination and ideas mixed with the crowd's hopes and dreams, and together they grew into a mystical creature that could save the world. There are so many down and out people out there, and it is like Obama comes riding in on a unicorn, under a rainbow, with a bluebird on his shoulder, you know? Anyway, I felt like it was a historic night. I wish we could just fast forward to November and get it over with...

So much better than the circus.

Where to begin?
I walked two blocks down the street from my house and I ran smack dab into a group by the name of "Iraq Veterans Against The War". Now when I say "smack dab" I mean I literally found myself stuck in the middle of this group. It wouldn't have been a big deal except that they were dressed in camo garb and pretending like they were in a war zone. So they were swooping and ducking and pointing their finger guns in the air. Then the leader dude would shout something and they would drop to the ground all together. I don't need to tell you that I was that one moron standing there. I couldn't lay down because that would be really dumb, and standing there made me the moron standing there. Plus, they had an entourage of camera men and photographers-- so I am going to be in all of the film and photos...just standing there. I was telling my Mom that I should be a photojournalist because with my weird luck and timing, I'd always stumble right into the action, without even knowing it. I'm so Detective Clouseau.


So I finally lost the soldiers and made my way down the street. Not 10 minutes later I came upon two vans unloading cop after cop like a clown car. And a side note-- the van had a bumper sticker on it that said, "Obama for rock star, McCain for president", which I thought was kind of funny-- but I was also wondering why a tax dollar funded police department can have their opinion on the tax funded van?
Anyway, then the equestrian police strolled by.

I made my way down to Civic Center Park which is in between the Capital building and the City and County building. I thought this was a cool view including the public library and art museum- oh and the blow up Ralph Nader liberty bell...more on that later.

This cracked me up- this was a tourist woman getting her picture taken with the riot police. She was very excited about it, and surprisingly, the police officer seemed happy to help.

And there were the 5 mashuganas that always show up to the party.

Oh and this guy- he seems to be against everything and everyone. The thing that I was most confused about was that he was an African American man, and you don't really see African Americans wielding Confederate Flags....but whatever.

The other 4 people left this guy and I don't know who gave him a megaphone...but I thought he was gonna get his ass kicked.

This was awesome! It is like an off-road police golf cart! I so want one.

But no one did kick his ass, which I guess is good, but I was getting kind of board of listening to the Jesus guy arguing with everyone else, and then a parade came!




Every parade has someone making an ass of themselves.

Then right after the parade I ran into the grim reaper skeleton guy standing on a box in his Nike's. I guess 4147 is the U.S. death toll in the Iraq war (he didn't tell me, I looked it up. Skeleton guys standing on boxes in tennis shoes don't talk. Duh.)

And then we have the conspiracy theorists!

However, my very favorite part of this demonstration was this guy in the tie-- he looks like some poor schmuck that got stuck holding the end of the sign. I don't think he even knows where he is.

Then a homeless man was walking this adorable dog.

Now we're at that blow-up liberty bell I told you about. Ralph just doesn't give up, does he?

Next New York Times bestseller...

With all the discourse and chaos going on in the world, thank goodness there's always some moron there to think of throwing tea bags in the fountain. It's the Denver tea party!


Whew. That was a lot. I hope you have enjoyed Kate's amazing DNC adventure. The moral of this story is that there is a lot going on here in Denver right now. A little bit of everything, really....And a lot of crazy. Good night, and good luck.

Let The Games Begin!

So yesterday was the first official day of the Denver Democratic National Convention. As of yesterday afternoon there had been some protests, but nothing out of control or anything. I was at my apartment getting ready to go to work so I took Isabelle out for a walk. As we were walking, about ten Aurora riot police come sauntering across the grass by my building- now, I want you to get the full picture...They are wearing all black of course- flack jackets, all of their gear minus the shield, and yielding machine guns. They probably aren't called machine guns, but they have the same rounded ammunition thing and they look just like machine guns. So they're kind of lazily walking and talking, just swinging their machine guns around and pointing to things with them--like they're just an extention of their hand. Isabelle and I converge with them and she of course is not intimidated by the automatic weapons and is thrilled to see them. So I asked them if things were ok and they were like, "yeah, just loft shopping." They obviously didn't have anything to do without any riots going on so they were just kind of canvassing the area. I said, "So is everything going smoothly downtown?" and they were like, "We're over here wandering around, aren't we?" Then the guy was like, "In fact, you're the most suspicious person we've seen all day. And your dog. I think your dog is smuggling propaganda." It was so funny. So I told the guys that they should check out the warehouse by my building because it's creepy and there's a creepy old man who walks in and out and that I think he hides bodies in there. They seemed intrigued and headed over there to take a peak. A warehouse full of dead bodies and a creepy old man would have definitely livened up their day.
Today I am going into the city to take pictures and observe the circus. I'll post them ASAP and let you all know what's doin' around here.

Nightmares

The most bizarre thing happened to me last night. I had like a full blown, little kid-style nightmare. I jumped awake at around 3am, and I was so traumatized by my dream that I couldn't go back to sleep. Not that I was too awake to go back to sleep- I was to scared to go back to sleep. It was one of those times where you wake up and go, oh thank goodness it wasn't real. But I was still rattled. The whole time I am sitting there going, "seriously? you're 25. It was a dream. Get over it and go back to sleep." But I couldn't. I am telling you that I was so shaken up by this dream that I had to go and get an "I Love Lucy" tape to put in. I Love Lucy has always been comfort TV for me. I mean, who can really stay at a heightened state of tension with Lucy running around doing something stupid? or Fred Mertz making fun of Ethel? Needless to stay, less than one episode went by until I fell back to sleep. However, I still feel on edge this morning. I feel traumatized. It is so bizarre. I need another night's sleep to recover from the trauma of last night's sleep.

Trials and Tribulations

I have a really tough job.
I have always had jobs that dealt with tough issues- the underbelly of society so to speak. I've always had a job where I was responsible for a troubled population, whether it was homeless pets- or now, neglected children. But this job I have now is especially challenging. I have never worked with children. I never thought I had the desire to work with children. It is an entire skill set that I am lacking. I have learned a lot in a short period of time, but this type of work requires a lot of time to really get the hang of it. So, I go to work and I am winging it. Constantly. It has been a while since I have had to learn a new job, and I am not going to lie, it is difficult. The way to handle each situation depends on every child's individual history and personality. It takes so much give and take, balance between being tough enough and yet sensitive at the exact right moment. I am getting better at it, but a lot of times I feel like the cat in this picture. Like a cat that is trying to keep a pack of German Shepherds in line- trying to get them to do what I want them to do, all the while keeping my fingers crossed that they don't decide to eat me. I am sure that learning how to handle all of these different situations will serve me well from now on. There are definite positives to figuring these things out- like patience, letting things go immediately for the sake of the greater good or the bigger picture, good communication, and learning how to read someone to find out when the right time is to speak, and when it is time to shut up. It's just that there are so few moments that I feel like I am getting it right, which I know just comes with the territory of learning something new. Right now the defeats are outnumbering the victories. But I guess the good news is that the German Shepherds haven't devoured me yet...yet being the key word.

Sweet, Sweet Penicillin

I would like to take a moment to publicly thank Sir Alexander Fleming and Howard Walter Florey for having saved my life, on numerous occasions. As the two most responsible for bringing us antibiotics, they have most certainly saved more lives than I can imagine. As I have been laying in bed waiting for my Penicillin to kick my Strep's ass, I was contemplating how many times in my life that I would have died if it had not been for antibiotics. I probably had strep once or twice when I was little (at least) and then there is that nasty Staph infection that I had when I was in 8Th grade. I'll never forget how much pain I was in, and then within 2 doses of antibiotics, I could barely tell I'd had an infection at all. That was when my real appreciation for antibiotics started.
But seriously, think about it- how bad ass is Penicillin? I mean, I'm driving home from the doctor with my prescription and I'm thinking, "Oh strep... you messed with the wrong person. You are going to be in soooooo much trouble. Penicillin is going to kick your ass so bad, there won't even be a fair fight. Just wait until I get home, eat a cracker, and take my first pill. You will roo the day you decided to mess with me."
It almost makes me feel better, like Penicillin is a super hero and it's coming to save me from the evil bacteria, Strep. In fact, Penicillin is way tougher (and smaller) than most super heroes.

So yeah. I took my pills, and now I'm almost all better. Still have a little ways to go, but not too shabby considering I had a fever and giant ulcers in my throat the day before yesterday. Hurray for Penicillin. If Penicillin were a person and I were I town, I would throw it a parade.....