I really wish November would just hurry up and get here already. Even after an historically long primary season, it’s the last few weeks that seem to be endlessly dragging.
Yes, I hunkered down and watched the town hall debate between McCain and Obama.
Sure, the networks had some cool angles where I could see the socks and shoes of undecided voters. And it was fun to see how many times McCain uttered, “my friends.” Please tell me someone counted. And I’m endlessly intrigued by Obama’s pronunciation of Pakistan (Pah-kee-stahn).
But really, do we need a third debate? What could they possibly say that we haven’t already heard?
I am just so anxious about the election. And I am completely drained from the political pundits examining every nuance of this horse race. Yet, at the same time, I’m completed addicted to it.
I am getting very close to canceling my subscription to the New York Post. Their political reporting is so egregiously biased that it makes me furious every morning.
But then I think about Page Six with all that fun celebrity gossip.
And I really like the TV section.
And the Post’s headlines are just so damn clever and funny sometimes.
But wait, what about journalistic credibility? What about delivering the news in an unfiltered way? I should really cancel.
But I can’t. I am so WEAK. I won’t even give up my tabloid addiction?! Damn, what happened to the generation who sacrificed everything for the greater good of their country?
My husband Rick, who is an independent, has chosen his candidate. Since he’s a journalist, he won’t publicly disclose his preferred ticket.
But we did have the following conversation…
“Honey, if you had your choice of the Phillies winning the World Series or your candidate winning the election, which would you chose?” I asked.
“Umm….” Rick gave the question deep thought.
“Well, it’s a tough one, ” Rick said as he mulled over the issue some more.
“HONEY! We are talking about the future of this country. You’d prefer some BASEBALL team win the world series than have your chosen candidate be in the White House?!!!!! That is totally, ridiculously insane.”
“Well, it would be a really tough decision but I guess I’d give up the World Series for the Presidency.”
I’m not sure I believe him.
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I really did learn something new this week.
No, no… not during the VP debate.
No, no… not during my first kindergarten tour which I promptly forgot about and never attended. Scratch that school off the potential schools list.
No, no… not during MSNBC’s Morning Joe. By the way, Jessica Ryan was really the only one who jumped on the Joe Scarborough hunky bandwagon with me. Although Calikim at least gave me a lukewarm “sort of hot.” But I’m thinking Calikim just sort of pitied me for my pathetic crush.
Hmm… maybe you all don’t consider morning news an aphrodisiac?
Anyway, here’s what I learned…
It really IS possible to step in your own kid’s poop.
Right there at the playground, Miss Summer needed to be changed. Just a routine diaper changing on a park bench. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Except somehow, during the changing process, some of what I’d just carefully cleaned up, slipped out from the diaper and onto the rubberized turf.
I did not notice.
And then I inadvertently stepped in it.
I STILL did not notice.
And then I mashed my foot into it again.
At which point, my husband pointed out what was going on.
Seriously, crap all over my cute shoe.
And earlier that morning 4 year-old Dylan told me that she likes to eat everything she finds on her face… sleepies in the corner of her eyes, snot from her nose, pretty much anything she can hunt down between her forehead and her chin.
So let me understand this exactly – the kid won’t touch a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But eye crust? Mmmm. How insanely, ridiculously gross.
The unexpected bonus? The Biden/Palin debate doesn’t seem so hard to stomach after all.
mama bird notes:
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Like it’s not troubling enough that my husband has a crush on Sarah Palin. Now he is convinced that the feelings are mutual.
You know all that winking she did at the camera last night?
Rick, honey, I don’t know how to break this to you but she wasn’t winking at you. She was winking at the American people because doggone it, she’s fighting for them.
Of course, Joe Biden promises to do that too. Just with far less eye twitching.
I really thought Biden got into a groove during the debate, especially when it came to the subject of foreign policy.
You know what guy I’m talking about, right? Biden? He was the one on the stage with Sarah Palin. Off to the left. Oh, I’m absolutely sure you saw him. The one with the nice smile. Well, trust me, he rocked it on the topics of Iraq and the fight against terrorism.
The governor of Alaska certainly avoided any major missteps and held her own last night. The debate structure kept her from being challenged much, even when she completely avoided answering questions or gave vague, confusing and awkwardly phrased answers.
Like when the moderator tried to ask her about bankruptcy courts and Palin answered, “I want to talk about, again, my record on energy versus – your ticket’s energy – ticket also.”
I would have preferred more back and forth between the two candidates so we could have actually gotten some substantive information, and not as much rehearsed campaign rhetoric from the two of them.
Frankly, I think the McCain campaign should take a page from “Singing in the Rain” and hire someone to secretly dub in a different voice over Palin’s. (Note to Senator McCain: Debbie Reynolds is still alive and well.)
Palin is very telegenic but I just find her voice so terribly grating and snarky. Throw in those folksy phrases and she just doesn’t seem like my kind of vice president.
Not to mention president.
Nearly one in three vice presidents go on to become the president.
John McCain is 72 years-old, with recurring melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer.
President Sarah Palin.
See why this election is so important?
I’ve got a TV crush.
Now I know a lot of you are hung up on Kirby from “Lipstick Jungle” and, I too, breathed a sigh of eye candy relief when they signed him for the second season.
So please don’t think I’m disrespecting Kirby when I admit that I’m sort of smitten for a new guy.
And he’s a Republican.
I know. Gasp.
He’s Joe Scarborough, the former Florida Congressman and current host of Morning Joe on MSNBC.
Ok, how pissy are you right now that I posted a picture of Joe Scarborough and NOT Kirby?
But Joe deserves some props because it’s only through his humor, charm and smart commentary that I can even begin to try to face and understand our economic crisis.
This meltdown of our financial markets is panicking everyone I know. In my yoga class, the instructor added extra meditation time to try to calm nervous yogis. Great. Just what we need. More quiet time to focus on our breathing rapidly nosediving 401Ks.
This week Congress has sweetened the failed House bailout package and the Senate approved the new version. Now it’s up to the House of Representatives to deliver the votes. And save our economy! By bailing out the slimy millionaires who are responsible for all this!
But it must be done. Because a bad bill is better than no bill and a crumbling economy. (Rest assured, I minored in economics so I know what I’m talking about. I really did minor in economics. Whether I know what I’m talking about has yet to be determined.)
A 700 billion dollar bailout package. An angry, volatile stock market. A severe credit squeeze.
See why I need my morning Joe?
I already told my husband Rick all about my crush. Listen, he admitted weeks ago that he’s sort of hot for Sarah Palin. At least my crush is a MODERATE conservative.
Speaking of Sarah Palin, I’m way nervous about Thursday night. After a very cringe worthy interview with Katie Couric, expectations are incredibly low for her performance in the debate.
Low expectations + likability + sexy librarian look = The Vice Presidency.
I’m nervous. Biden better bring it on – in a respectful, intelligent, fix-our-economy, don’t-say-anything-stupid kind of way.
Ok, because I made you suffer through an entire post about the economy, here’s your reward. Enjoy your Kirby.
Because despite how much you may have lost in the stock market, at least his abs are still rock solid.
mama bird notes:
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There are no morning naps to contend with anymore. She’s outgrown them. There is no big sister racing around, spinning with energy and chattering away in an endless stream of nonsequitors. Instead, Dylan is racing and spinning and chattering happily at preschool.
Just simple, present, precious time. With Summer.
A chance to know my baby, who really isn’t a baby at all.
And I had time with someone else this past weekend. My mother. My fascinating, puzzling, passionate mother.
She is plowing her way through an aggressive social work program to earn her masters, so my time with her lately has been quite limited.
But she came up for a visit and the two of us were able to focus on each other. This is always a challenge for us. Because frequently we are like two acquaintances, awkwardly stuck in an elevator together, who struggle to find common ground.
But this visit we made it work, made it click.
We went to yoga class together, had lunch and had conversations that went like this…
“Mom, why do you keep your money in a plastic ziploc bag?” I asked.
“It’s just easier. I keep the cash in one bag and credit cards in another,” my mom explained.
“But wouldn’t it be easier to have a, oh i don’t know, A WALLET.”
“No, I tried that. It didn’t really work for me.”
“Really? Because it works for the other 6 billion people on earth.”
“No, I like this better.”
“Ok. That’s cool.”
And we had substantive conversations too that focused less on ziploc bags and more on parenthood and relationships and life.
I’ve always been a girl on the go. I’ve got stuff to do and I want to get to it. But sometimes I can stop. Connect and just be.
The being can be the hardest part. But it’s also the part that ends up meaning the most.
mama bird notes:
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