Get Up, Stand Up. Stand Up For Your Rights.

It's November 4th - probably the biggest day of 2008! I sent my absentee ballot in early last week, so I am hoping it arrived.

I am not one for proclaiming or supporting any particular candidate. I believe there is a reason why your ballot is kept secret, so why does everyone feel the need to proclaim who they voted for? How come celebrities are endorsing politicians? Why are people updating their Facebook status with "Suzie has donated her Facebook status to getting the vote out for Barack Obama"?

Why can't people just endorse voting in general? Voting was always so underrated when I was in grade school. I don’t understand why it wasn’t as important in the curriculum. I do remember in fifth grade when they did an election simulator and we all got to “vote.” That should have gone on every year – not only for the presidential elections, but for the township and state elections as well. That would have planted the seed in each of our heads that any vote is important.

When I first got here, I posted a little political rant about why the people here could not vote in our presidential election. I still do not understand that. But the thing is – they GET it. They were out there campaigning all over the island, throughout the streets, everywhere – for the local elections. The citizens here are aware that every vote counts. Why aren’t we?

I found this to be the most interesting: for the past week, the radios have been playing Caribbean music… all about Obama. (Note there was not a single mention of John McCain. He never lived on a tropical island.) I believe the words were “Obama, we love you. You will be the first African American President of the United States. Barack Obama, we love you. We hope you don’t come too late.”

The catchy tones of the steel drums and the kitschy lyrics weren’t written to sway any opinions, obviously. These songs (and there are MANY of them) were meant to exude a sort of hope that I think lives throughout the rest of the world. The entire world is counting on this election. (See: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27542176)

Because we now live in a global community (no matter what anyone says – if you work in fashion, manufacturing, or anything of the sort, you will understand that. Those who don't yet will - give it time.) Countries are merely companies at this day in age. We lend each other money, we perform different transactions, and there is plenty of competition. And as much as some people don’t want to admit that, it’s the truth. What any country does affects the rest of the world.

And what the United States does affects the way the rest of our global community looks at us. It’s something you really learn when you go overseas. As Americans, we come across as arrogant, sons-of-bitches that think they’re on top of the world and know everything. We tend to have an “I’m better than you” complex. And quite honestly, as a general whole, we are arrogant assholes.

When it comes down to it, we are no better than anyone else. There are different cultures and different ways of thinking. It’s all relative. I believe that there are people educated enough to know that, though few and far between. I wish people who traveled overseas would try to represent our country in a more positive light.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a proud American. I am so proud that my grandfathers have both served our country. I am so proud that I have friends stationed all over the world representing our country. I am so proud that I am one of the few that when asked the question, “What are you?” I answer “American” instead of my heritage, like so many Americans do. (Plus, it’s so much easier than saying, “I’m Russian, German, English, Welsh, Scottish, Romanian, Ukrainian and German, and probably some other stuff mixed in for fun. Plus I’m half Jewish, half Christian. I grew up in New Jersey, I am a Philadelphia fan, I listen to country music and I live on an island in the Caribbean.” I guess I am a true American – a pile of mush!)

I just wish there wasn’t such a fine line between arrogance and pride. As our country faces a recession and possibly a depression, it’s a kick in the teeth we just might need. We have grown so much so quickly that it has become overwhelming. I like to relate this to my wardrobe – it’s the best way I can.

For the past few years, since I have been a tax-paying citizen with a dispensable income, I have collected a massive amount of “stuff.” This stuff wasn’t necessarily things I needed, or things that I wanted, but just “stuff” to have. I would go through my wardrobe about six times a year, getting rid of bags and bags of “stuff,” just to replace it with more over the next few weeks and then repeat the sequence over and over again.

It could be the change in the economy or the fact that I now live on an island without a Gap or a Starbucks, but I am finally realizing that that “stuff” isn’t important. It doesn’t fill any void when you buy a $24.50 t-shirt from the Gap that you really don’t love.

What is important is style, quality and taste – taken straight from Tim Gunn’s book. Having a small wardrobe that is concentrated and that you love is the key. You might spend more on each individual piece, but you think about it before you buy it. You wear every piece, you love every piece and you appreciate it in the end. And it ends up being a wardrobe – not just a collection of “stuff.” It’s been a European philosophy for ages.

This philosophy can be applied to the status of our economy and country as well. If each individual scaled back instead of scaled down in that same sense, our economy may actually have ended up in a different place than it is now. (Or maybe not. I’m not an economist by any stretch of the imagination.) But maybe if everyone started realizing this philosophy, we wouldn’t be portrayed as these greedy, arrogant Americans to the rest of our global community.

We’re now on different time than mainland ET; the US Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico do not participate in daylight saving time. That means it is about eleven o’clock here, versus your ten o’clock. At this point, Obama has 207 electoral votes versus McCain’s 135. It’s almost time for bed, and I guess I will find out the results in the morning. As much as I would love to stay up, some of this political crap is mind-numbingly boring.

I hope you all voted, no matter who you voted for.

Me and all my friends
We're all misunderstood
They say we stand for nothing
There's no way we ever could
Now we see everything is going wrong
With the world and those who lead it
We just feel like we don't have the means
To rise above and beat it

Now if we had the power
To bring our neighbors home from war
They would've never missed a Christmas
No more ribbons on the door
When you trust your television
What you get is what you got
Cause when they own the information,
They can bend it all they want

So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting
Waiting on the world to change
It’s hard to be persistent
When we're standing at a distance
So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change

You know you love me,
XOXO
- Island Girl

Life is Not Tried, It is Merely Survived If You're Standing Outside the Fire

You see I know change. I see change. I embody change. All we do is change. Yeah, I know change. We are born to change. We sometimes regard it as a metaphor that reflects the way things ought to be. In fact, change takes time. It exceeds all expectations. It requires both now and then. See, although the players change the song remains the same. And the truth is, you gotta have the balls to change.
-Vinnie Jones

I’ve seen a few changes in myself over the past six weeks. While six weeks is a short amount of time to have a person “changed”, it is clinically proven that it takes 21 days to break or form a new habit. I feel I’ve broken and formed quite a few habits here; hopefully for the better.

No more Starbucks for this girl; and I have almost kicked my caffeine habit. My once Clairol-produced highlights have been enhanced greatly by the sun’s rays. My skin is a warm tan (with the exception of the natural ivory bikini permanently on my body). A pair of heels hasn’t graced my feet in six weeks, and my usually short Achilles’ tendon seems to be thanking me for the seemingly flat-footedness.

I feel comfortable with the fact that my make-up regimen has transformed into some good old SPF 30, some concealer and mascara. I have really come to understand the importance of sunscreen (at least SPF 30) in any sun, whether covered by clouds or shining like a beacon. (That goes for all of you at home; even when you step out in the middle of autumn, you should be wearing at least SPF 15. Check out Clinique.com for a downloadable SunBuddy, which updates you with the UV index by the hour. A God-send in this sun!) No sunburn, wrinkles or skin cancer for this girl!

I returned home exhausted this evening after a full-day boat trip to Hans Lollick with a bunch of friends. I sat and watched a syndicated rerun of Sex and the City. Carrie proclaimed that she realized that city girls are just the same as country girls, only with cuter shoes. I’m not so sure that’s entirely the truth. (Though as much as I love my Reefs, city girls do have cuter shoes than island girls.)

As a city (or Jersey, in this case) girl, I feel I was less open with people and more introverted. I would walk into a bar, wait for a friend, and I would feel a little uncomfortable and slightly stand-offish around the surrounding strangers. If walking down the street in Philadelphia, it is socially acceptable to keep your head down and avoid eye contact with the person walking in the opposite direction. If you do happen to mistakenly make eye contact, a slight smile suffices.

I have always been the kind of girl who has been extremely creative, but had the so-called logic to avoid crazy impulses, think things through and end up deciding against following through (or following through as cautiously as possible). I tend to over-analyze things, no matter what the subject. I pride myself on having street smarts and have always been the “mom” of the group.

So just having the balls (for lack of a better term) to come down here was the start of this budding “fearlessness”. As I become more and more of an island girl, I feel I’ve been pushing the envelope a little more. It’s really great, because I experience so much more than sitting on the sidelines.

I have no problem striking up a conversation with someone at the bar or grocery store, whether I am with friends or not. It could be the fact that the island is running a few years behind mainland, so it’s not as overwhelming. It’s also a very warm culture (literally and figuratively), and that seems to rub off on everyone down here. A “good morning,” “good afternoon,” or “good night” is an expected greeting to anyone within your 25 foot radius.

I’m trying to push myself. To be honest, I never liked snorkeling because it was something half-athletic that I felt I wasn’t good at. My mask would constantly fog up, I did not like the idea of the possibility of jellyfish swimming around me, and I always ended up with a mouth full of salt water. However, when I finally took the time to slow down and take my time over in Lovango Cay the other day, I saw the most amazing reefs and fish I hadn’t seen the other two times I had been there. I realized you just have to alter your breathing a little, not worry about the jellyfish, and go at your own pace. I’m so glad I did.

I find that my “sea legs” are a lot better now. I’ve never been one for sea sickness, since I pretty much have a stomach of iron, but I always felt a bit uneasy getting around on boats. I would walk as cautiously as possible, holding onto whatever I could, or just stay in the same section of the boat. Lately, I’ve been on boats quite a bit, and it’s that same philosophy as what I discovered snorkeling. If you slow down and just do it, it’s worth it. What’s the worst that could happen? You fall into the Caribbean Sea? It’s not Jersey water, for crying out loud!

Maybe I am developing more of a laissez-faire attitude due to the culture that I’m surrounded by. It could be that I am surrounded by all of these wonderful people who have such an influence on me because I admire them so much. I seem to be changing from the inside out.

*I’m going to stop looking back, and start moving on and learn how to face my fears. Love with all of my heart, and make my mark. I want to leave something here. I want to go out on the edge without any net; that’s what I am going to be about. I want to be running when the sand runs out.*

Some things don’t change though: for example, I had what I deemed a near-death altercation with a crab the other night. I’m pretty sure, anyway.

The thing is, this crab came into my territory. It secured itself right in front of my door opening to my apartment. I had two hands full with groceries, and a crab was blocking my way. There was no way I was letting that bugger in my apartment.

The sheer size of this thing scared me to death, to be honest. Now, it couldn’t have been more than 9” across, which meant that I was 4 feet and 9 inches taller than the crab. But it had claws, and I did not.

I placed my groceries down on the ground and picked up the broom sitting on my patio. I attempted to move the critter out of the way, so I could make my way inside without a crab. Some may have found this to be an opportunity for dinner; however, I do not eat seafood, so I was of no threat. Instead of going with the flow, Fred (as I had named him) had latched himself to the tracks in the door, refusing to break free. With his free claw, he started snapping at me.

This is the point when I actually started to talk to Fred, attempting to soothe him and coax him out of the doorway. He got a little angry with this and the looming broom, and started snapping both claws at this point. I again, tried with the broom to lift him and move him three feet over so I could run inside as quickly as possible without the new pet I had acquired.

Nope. The little bugger decided to crawl into its shell with one claw out, latched onto the door. Thankfully, I have a sliding door, and I was able to open the door without him getting inside at that point, and quickly shut it. He then situated himself at the point where the two sliding doors meet, and planted himself there for about three hours. I was convinced I had a new, unfurry and thus unwanted pet. Fortunately for us both, Fred left right as I was about to go out for the night.

So baby drive slow, 'till we run out of road
In this one-horse town, I want to stay right here
In this passenger seat, you put your eyes on me
In this moment now, capture it, remember it.

And I don't know how it gets better than this
You take my hand, and drag me head first
Fearless.
And I don't know why, but, with you I'll dance
In a storm, in my best dress.
Fearless.

You know you love me,
XOXO
Island Girl

It Was The Night Things Changed...

Well, it’s certainly been a while since my last post. Everything and nothing has happened since the hurricane… first off all, let’s start with…

WORLD CHAMPIONS.

WORLD F*CKING CHAMPIONS!

We all went on what seemed like the most intense bender of our lives with these games – I don’t think we could have lasted another two games! It was so disappointing to have Game Five postponed in the middle of the game; however, at least we had a day to regroup and prepare for the partying that would follow. I can tell you right now, you can find the most dedicated Philadelphia fans in… St. Thomas, VI.

That’s right. I don’t care if you stood out in the cold and the rain to watch a game that went until 2 AM. I don’t care if you parked your butt out on Broad Street for 7 hours to wait for a 4 minute parade to come around. I don’t care if you painted your face, tipped over that car while celebrating, ran up the stairs of the Art Museum, or even stood in line at 7 AM when Modell’s opened to start selling the copious amounts of champion t-shirts. That does not a more dedicated fan make.

We carted our Phillies phan gear 1500 miles away and wear it more proudly here than we would at home since we are all displaced. We made it known that if we were at the bar, the Philadelphia game must be on at least 70% of the TVs (and thankfully, the bartenders complied). We also made it known that those in our group of friends that were not from Philly (i.e. Missouri, Michigan, Massachusetts, etc.) had become Phillies Phans by association. As soon as Lidge threw that last strike, every single one of us were on the phone with our families, fellow phans back home and of course, those Yankees fans with sour grapes. Instead of each plunking down $1000 for a roundtrip ticket just to go to the parade down Broad Street, we made our own parade (literally, of course).

I will always remember that exact moment and the feeling of that extreme emotion, no matter how much I had to drink that night during our celebration. It’s moments like that that don’t go away; in twenty or so years, one image of Lidge falling to his knees, one taste of Jagermeister (ugh!) or one morning when I wake up with a hangover that I think might be the worst of my life, will bring me back to that moment. And while I wasn’t in Philly, I know I wouldn’t trade it for the world. (Though I would be OK if we had to wait another few years for another championship win; I don’t think my body could handle another hangover like that for quite a while.)

Here’s some suggested reading for you all; this article explains why it’s more than just a game. And that couldn’t be more true.

http://www.philly.com/dailynews/sports/playbook/20081031_Rich_Hofmann__The_joy_goes_far_beyond_final_score_of_World_Series.html?referrer=facebook

World Champions!

This link might work to see the video I put together from our night of celebrating (let me know if it doesn't!)
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=514518204762&ref=share

*Tonight we stand and get off our knees. We'll fight for what we've worked for all these years. The battle was long, and it's the fight of our lives, but we'll stand up champions tonight. It was the night things changed; we see it now. These walls that they put up to hold us back fell down; this is a revolution; throw your hands up because we never gave in. We sang hallelujiah...*

You know you love me.
XOXO
- Island Girl