Riding the waves...

It has been a week now, since that long yearned for day arrived and many Americans prayers were answered in the nomination of Barack Obama as our next leader. I chose to celebrate at a local theater in the Denver Highlands. The Oriental, host of open mic nights, drama troupes, community fundraisers and local music opened its doors on election night, complete with giant CNN projection screen, fighting candidates with foam heads, daring burlesque dancers in political regalia (And one who swung in a hoop hanging from the ceiling, perhaps representing the underprivileged voices who feel trapped in an endless circle, never quite able to get their feet firmly planted on solid ground... or maybe not. Her name was Midnight Martini after all.) and screaming fans. It was most certainly the most exciting election night I have experienced, in the past watching the television alone while my fingernails mysteriously grew stubbier.

We all know that this election was different. I received phone calls, text messages and emails from my friends in Boston, Milan, Vancouver, Sydney, and Wellington, New Zealand. This was not just an American triumph, but one cheered for around the world. And though the initial exhilaration is subsiding, we are nonetheless anxious and hopeful for things to come. Especially for things like the appointment of the new Obama dog.

My blissful Denver days are coming to an end soon. I've read many books and have started a new pile. Tomorrow I head to Santa Fe to visit my mom, who is there for a weekend conference. I can't wait to check out a new corner of the country and experience the real southwest. On Tuesday I fly to Vancouver where Bryan and I scramble to pull together the paperwork required for me to move to Canada with a valid work visa.

The weekend after I arrive we have to drive to Seattle find a notary and a post office, and hopefully a few of our friends that we haven't seen in years. We are even going to spend some time enjoying the city! So far my visits have been to and from the airport, and included an egg and cheese muffin and a glass of wine (Separate meals, of course.) Perhaps we will glimpse the space needle in daylight and shop the public market for lunch. The whole weekend leads up to a life defining moment (I've been lacking drama lately) when I cross the border and ask the border officials to please, PLEASE give me a work visa. I will be armed with paperwork and good intentions. (As well as a vicious pit bull (sans lipstick) if things don't go my way.)

I am anxious, what someone very dear to me once told me was merely “alternating waves of hope and despair.” I am comforted whenever I remember this. And though the I have a fifty fifty chance of a wave of despair, somehow the wave of hope always seems to have a bigger swell.

Enough nautical talk though. Life will be changing again soon, as I remind all of my friends who dread it, change is good. And if not good, interesting at the very least.