The Obama's Are The Enemies Of The Daaaaaleks!!!!

Was I the only one who thought this???

Looking for a Cheerleader

Today is the one month anniversary of my life's new path.

Sorry America, but I'm absconding with Barack today. Just today. You can have him back tomorrow.

Watching all the "pre-game" coverage on the news last night, I just wanted to put all his wonderful words, positive and strong and hopeful, in my pocket. Along with him.

You never know when you might need an instant cheering section.

What the hell! Michelle can come to!

I have never in my life looked at a first couple and thought "I would LOVE to have a beer with them!" But I do now.

So my soon-to-be-ex-husband is now deciding not to talk to the police. He is exercising his right to remain silent. Of course, this sent me off on another piss fit until I realized that "of course he doesn't want to talk!" He doesn't want to reveal anything that his victim might have forgotten! What a guy! So brave, noble and true!

But my favorite police woman tells me that it doesn't matter. The report will be on the county prosecutor's desk today.

Next step is sentencing, providing he keeps his word that he won't take it to trial. I'm hoping that sentencing will happen this week.

And then there is the victim impact statement. I want to deliver one. I want to stand up in front of my soon-to-be-ex husband and let him know exactly what he has done.

And for that? I think I'm gonna need my Pocket Obama.

One Brief Shining Moment

For all the people sitting around us at the DFL party at the DECC on election night, all I can say is a coupla three or four drinks ALWAYS brings out the best in everyone.

And we were NOT stalking local politicians.

And the political stickers on my friends boobs were tastefully hidden by her jacket, until that is, she went into flasher mode.

And my daughter screaming that "You can't see Russia from the White House"? Well, you have to admit, it was rather funny.

And last but not least, the amount of ingested alcohol had nothing to do with the real tears at the end of the evening. I have always voted in every election. I have never been proud of my country until last night. My daughter doesn't remember Clinton and Gore when they were first elected. She only remembers Monica and scandels and deception. And then she remembers Bush. While not old enough to vote, she is more than ready to do what she can to straighten this shit out.

But not before a little ironic fun...If you haven't seen V For Vendetta, you are not invited to The Revolution.

"People should not fear their government, Government should fear their people."

Remember, remember, the 5th of November...

Like Christmas, Only Without All The Poop

I feel like I did when I was a kid at Christmas. The election is less than a week away and I have never been more excited, stressed, doubtful, or exuberant. The analogy to Christmas is very accurate as I was born with a recessive Jewish gene and any little comment made by my family would send me into paroxysms of concern. While the adults in my life thought it would be funny to plant the seeds of doubt in my mind, "I don't know...do you REALLY think you were good enough to get something from Santa?", I spent at least two weeks leading up to Christmas going over every single deed I had done over the past 364 days and wondering if there was even an outside chance that Santa would find me worthy. (Yeah, hey adults, when your kid has massive self esteem issues, it's best to let that sleeping dog lie when it comes to the holidays.)

Needless to say, Christmas eve memories for me revolve around enormous stomach aches and the impending doom a child feels when they discover that not only do they have explosive diarrhea, they are also wearing footed pajamas and their body length zipper has jammed three inches below their chin. Oh yeah! Good times!

So I am waiting waiting waiting to vote. I refuse to vote early. I refuse to vote absentee. I don't care if it takes me five hours to wait in the church basement surrounded by blue haired old ladies that have to constantly adjust their bifocals in order to squint out the fact that I am registered in the big book of all that is holy and wonderful. I will pull out a lighter, hold it above my head, and sway to the undulations of the crowd. I will live in the moment.

Nothing irks me more than people that don't vote. This year, I've been surrounded by so many people that are mobilizing new voters, convincing people that yes, their votes DO count, and working hard to overcome all the media attention that swirls around votes that don't get counted. Maybe I'm living in a bubble, but I'm feeling so many positive vibes this election that I'm not only looking foreward to the results, I'm looking foreward to the process.

Also, for the first time since I worked on a political campaign at the tender age of 12, I want to seek out company for election night. I want to celebrate or cry with a group of people that understand, in the soft ionic curl curl of their soul, what I am trying so inadequately to verbalize.

Plus, it's never fun to soak your head in cheap champagne alone. That, my friends, is a job for Jack Daniels.