Team RP Petition for a Freedom of Access to Information Law

Link

Some of you who will get this may already know what we at Team RP have been doing. Some of you may be reading a politically charged message from me for the first time. I'm wearing my beliefs on my sleeve, and very proud to do so.

Many of you may be thinking, "Okay, Team RP. You say you're working for 'truth, accountability, and reform'. What now? What concrete steps can you REALLY take?" Here's one: to push for a law that gives us THE RIGHT TO INFORMATION. This right is enshrined in the Constitution, but because there are no enabling laws, there is no teeth--and many excuses not to comply.

By signing this petition, you will be helping us achieve our goal of AT LEAST 10,000 SIGNATURES that we will bring to legislators as a "pressure point." Your signature, together with many others, can signal to media that THIS IS AN ISSUE WORTH TALKING ABOUT. When media hounds our government officials for their take on this issue, THEN THE BALL CAN START ROLLING. People can start taking stands, a comprehensive bill can be drafted. ALL WITH THE HELP OF YOUR SIGNATURE.

Thank you in advance for your support. Please pass this on to friends so that they, too, will know how their ONE SIGNATURE can help change the course of things in this country.

--
Niña Terol
Vice Chairperson for Internal Affairs
TEAM RP

Desperately Wanting...

I’m supposed to be “taking it easy” this month, but I spent the first week of the year attending meetings and trying to close yet another new project. Some people think I’m a workaholic, Paul thinks I’m hyper; however, I tend to believe that I’m just really passionate about what I do that I’d do it anyway—even for free. Or on weekends. Or even when I’m sick, like I am today.

So, in a desperate attempt to zone out of work mode, I indulged in yet another Desperate Housewives marathon. I must admit that, of all the wives, I can relate the most to Bree Van de Kamp (Marcia Cross), the über-prim and polished homemaker that would make Martha Stewart look like a dowdy rag.

I think that Bree is a wonderful character because, beneath her control freakishness and her obsessive compulsiveness, she really is just as flawed as everyone else—and probably even more so. Unlike Susan Mayer (Teri Hatcher), who seems to live graciously well with the fact that she’s a single mother with a string of bad luck, or Lynette Scavo (Felicity Huffman) who always looks so adorably kawawa (pitiable) with her ragtag bunch of boys, Bree is like an elegant porcelain doll who’s beautiful and exquisite on the outside, but who’s really cracking and dying on the inside a little each day. She irons out the kinks of her environment because she can’t iron out the kinks of her own life, and she works damn hard to make everything seem immaculate because she knows that it’s the only way she can get a little piece of heaven here on earth. Her well-meaning attempts don’t always work out the way they are intended to, but Heaven knows the woman tries really hard.

While, unlike Bree, I allow myself to laugh and cry and get dirty once in a while, like her, I often feel the need to bury my emotions deeply under the ground of my life—if only to enable myself and others around me to function better. Emotions are normal, and it is healthy to embrace them, but sometimes they distract us from getting things done. And, as someone on whom people have counted on over the years to get things done, I’ve had to learn to subjugate my own feelings and desires for the sake of “the goal.” Sometimes it’s as simple as trying to quell fatigue for the sake of getting a nice-smelling kitchen; other times it involves something much deeper, such as forgoing certain personal goals and wishes for the sake of others’ needs and comfort. In any case, I’ve had to get used to giving up a little bit of myself if only to prop other people up.

The pillar must endure a lifetime of heavy burdens to keep the entire structure from collapsing. And like the Housewives on Wysteria Lane, most of us women are everyone else’s pillars.

I’m not exactly sure anymore why I’m writing this in particular, or why these words are coming out of me now, but something tells me that I didn’t really decide to “take a break” just for myself.

For months now I’ve felt guilty about “neglecting” Paul and my family in exchange for my career, and now I’m realizing that this “time off” is really more about them than it is about me. For even as I’ve practically vowed to spend each day working out, taking walks, meditating, and eating right, I’ve spent the first days of the year cleaning house, going to meetings, attending to business matters online, helping my mom in her office, babysitting my niece, and working up a bum tummy. No boxing workouts, no yoga, no salads. Not yet, at least.

And, inasmuch as my personality makes me more of a Bree, my lifestyle makes me more of a Lynette—overly driven, seriously stressed, and dangerously burned out.

*Sigh*

I honestly don’t know how the rest of this “sabbatical” will turn out, but I can only hope and pray that I will somehow summon the strength to really make this month all about me—my health, my time, my needs. Sure, like most women out there, I will never be able to say “no” to those I love. But I sure hope I won’t end up need to take desperate measures if only to get a life.