Absentee

I'm really nervous.  I filled out the application for an absentee ballot since I am now in North Carolina but I haven't heard or received anything.  Maybe nervous is an understatement, I am seriously freaking out!!  This morning I read about a couple that is flying from India to vote because they did not receive their absentee ballots, either.  We're talking over 9,000 miles and $5,000 to vote in this election.  I do believe this election to be the most important and historical election of my life and I would be completely bereft if my absentee ballot never arrived.  

The whole idea of not voting is appalling to me.  Maybe I should drive back to Utah to vote.  I mean, people really did fly from India--not Indiana, INDIA!  Heaven knows with the gas prices it would probably cost the same to fly to Utah than to drive.  I am faced with a conundrum.  What do I do?!  I'm manic!  I am a freakin' Obama campaign volunteer.  I have to vote. I'll have to get on the horn tomorrow and find out what needs to be done.  I'm on a mission.  Where is James Bond when you need him, or Tom Cruise, or I'd even settle for Maxwell Smart at this point.

Men

How was I supposed to know that Batman's cape has a jagged edge but the bottom of superman's cape is straight? I drew the wrong cape on the right superhero. It was an entire disaster. I think I'll go back to drawing UFC fighters. In my immediate family there are four girls and three boys and I have never been outnumbered by men, until now. The subtle nuances of living in a male dominated household are as follows: accidentally sitting on the rim of the toilet instead of the actual toilet seat OR just as unexpectedly sitting in the vestiges of urine that happened to have fallen where you are sitting when you use the ladies' room.

Then there's the violence. They don't hit me, usually, but that does not mean I escape nearly being punched in the gut or nearly being round-house kicked anywhere they can reach or nearly being elbowed in any other accessible part of my body. Needless to say, my six and four-year-old nephews are enrolled in "Little Ninjas". A week ago I went to their gym to see them earn their yellow belts. I have to admit I was impressed. I actually got teary eyed (you may want to note that I was PMSing at the time) and I couldn't help but laugh at seeing about twenty kids, girls and boys and all still in the single digits age-wise, participate in a miniature obstacle course. Eat your heart out Rambo, they're coming for you. The funny part is I have more teeth in my mouth than all of them combined including Sylvester Stallone.

Lastly, a couple of days ago I was actually tossing a football around with the six-year-old, Moon-Pie. Of course he was throwing spirals and my footballs were lucky to make it to any destination, but I do what I can. I also have been known to play a game of soccer now and then. Given, I'm no Mia Hamm but I can kick a ball one time out of two. There was a time when I averted all speeding balls whether hit, kicked, or thrown out of respect to my face but it seems those days are coming to a close thanks to my testosterone-filled abode.

The truth is I don't mourn ballerinas or Barbies but instead have considered moving the toilet seat to its upright position after I'm done in the ladies' room. I hate to say it, but there is a real possibility here that I, as part of a potentially viable minority, will go silently into the night to cry no more in protest to household crimes against gender.

Honestly

Why is it that kids are brutally honest?  I really resent the fact that my six year old nephew feels the need to keep addressing the presence of my mustache.  Then, my four year old nephew has a nerve to point out my bra bulge!  How much can a girl take?  I realize that they are not intentionally mean (most of the time) but it really does make me want to get a machete and send some heads rolling.  

Instead of killing kids, I've decided to take their comments as indicators of areas where I can make improvements.  As a result of living with two toddlers, I have enrolled myself in a self-improvement project.  I started a new exercise program that will hopefully eradicate the unsightly bra bulge.  Hey, my only other option was back lipo and as that is in its experimental stages I decided to go the more lengthy route.  In addition, I've invested in cream for my ZZ Top beard.  All in all, I think I should be grateful for the intervention.

On the bright side of living with toddlers, I sometimes get my hair brushed for free and when I put on make-up I'm treated like a super model although sometimes they scream and say that I must be a new aunt that killed the old one and took her place.  Needless to say, I don't wear make-up very often.  

I am looking forward to whatever delightful comments I'll hear after the bra bulge and beard are gone.  If I don't kill anyone, that is. 

YeeHaw!

It is done. By "it" I mean last Wednesday I signed up to be a volunteer for Barack Obama's campaign. A little about me, the last time I campaigned it was in 1993 to be a Student Body Officer of my high school. I did win, though. So I think Barack and me have this thing in the bag. Don't you worry your pretty little head about national affairs, it's all going to be okay.

I have never volunteered to assist with a presidential campaign before in my life even though I have felt passionately about certain candidates in the past. I think I felt that this year was no time to sit on my duff and watch politics unfold as usual. I also wanted to veer away from negative campaigning and maligning the opposition (but oh so easy to do!). I needed an outlet for all my pent up frustrations about government and politics. I feel good about focusing positive energy in support of Barack Obama and I feel great about letting myself actually hope that people can really make a difference. People like Barack. People like me.

One of the fringe benefits to being a volunteer for Barack is that I get e-mails telling me when he will be nearby campaiging. It just so happens that Obama and Biden were going to be in town on Saturday hosting a rally. Do you know what I did? I went!! I have never attended a political rally in my life! But what were the chances I would see the (future) president of the United States of America ever again? Let's be honest, I've never seen any of the others--but I have seen John Travolta in real life, for your information. Believe it or not, I enjoyed going. I was shocked at the turnout. At least six city blocks of people were in line in front of me waiting for the doors to open and I don't know how many city blocks came after I did. I guess people were waiting since before sunrise. Yeah, I got there 15 minutes after the doors were supposed to open. Don't hate, being on Mormon Standard Time and Colored People Time puts me at a great disadvantage.

The couple before me in line, who were nice enough to keep me company for two hours, were the most unlikely Obama supporters. Randy and Tammy were quite "Southern". Randy had just bought a Dodge truck he was excited about (I know, I thought people didn't buy those anymore either) and Tammy kept losing her phone, which she once found in her hand. Randy's mom called and Tammy kept shouting "Did Momma see you on TV?!" And don't ask me why Tammy had a black eye. Hey, I'm no Katie Couric. They were really nice to me and turned out to be some of the loudest people in the crowd with comments like "You tell 'em, Joe!" when Biden was speaking and "Thas awright!" when Obama was speaking. Frankly, I struggled to keep up with them.

All in all, I really enjoyed my very first political rally. There were Obama T-Shirts everywhere, bumper stickers, pins, hats--it was heaven. I just enjoy feeling like I am not so alone, like we are really going to win this election and that there is hope for America. Both Biden and Obama did a wonderful job as expected. I do still have nagging questions as to whether this ticket will deliver once elected. At one point when Obama was saying all the things he wanted to do in office I wanted to add, "And wonderful husbands for all single American women who want one!" to which the crowd would hopefully respond "Thas awright!"

Ewwwww!

My sister has these beautiful wine goblets. No, she doesn't drink alcohol nor does anyone in her household but these glasses were insisted upon and purchased by my mother who, by the way, also is not an imbiber. I agree with my mom--it's nice to pour some Ocean Spray Cran Apple Juice in a wine goblet now and then and feel a little fancy pants. I don't often have the opportunity because Cran Apple juice is also the beverage of choice for my 4 year old nephew. If my mom is visiting, and sometimes when she is not, a whole bottle of "the red juice" will disappear without my grabbing a bourgeouis moment with the faux merlot and my wine goblet.

Tonight after my dinner I felt particularly privileged when I emptied the bottle of Cran Apple juice into my glass. It was just the perfect amount, my glass was almost full to the brim. I was by the sink so I took the opportunity to rinse out the plastic bottle and put it in the recycling box in the garage before enjoying my nice, cool, sweet-like-candy drink. Upon returning to my waiting wine glass I find a huge ugly fly swimming in my juice! Ewwwww! The nerve of some insects! Now comes the dilemma. Do I a) leave it and let the fly drown, b) fish out the fly with a spoon and drink it anyway, or c) dump the entire drink and miss out on my decadent treat.

While I let you ponder on my course of action, let me tell you that I have been watching quite a bit of Man vs Wild lately and in the last 24 hours I've seen this man eat two different types of snakes, an alligator, an actual honeycomb with bees still in it, and his own urine. Which brings me to my next point: white people are crazy! Nevertheless, having seen this man (whose name is Bear) eat the extremes of the human diet, I deliberated much longer than I usually would have about the fly in my juice. I fished it out with a spoon and dumped the drink. I just couldn't drink it, guys! Have you seen the movie The Fly with Jeff Goldbloom? Let me just say that I have been grossed out by the digestive process of flies ever since.

If you find this blog disappointing, I'm sorry. I'm even more sorry about my lost merlot moment. Cue 80's Debbie Gibson song here ("It could have been so beautiful, could have been so right . . .). Well, until the next bottle of Ocean Spray let me leave you with a drinkless toast. May you never have to kill a rattlesnake with your bare hands and may all your drinks be flyless.

Religion & Politics

I realized I did not have my finger on the pulse of this nation when Bush got re-elected.  Upon his re-election I went into political depression.  Symptoms:  hopelessness about the state of the nation and the world in general, overall bafflement at the worst possible outcome of the election, and disappointment in my fellow Americans for making a decision that so clearly meant the destruction of values America has stood for in the two some odd centuries it has been in existence.

As the current election nears, I am becoming more and more agitated at the political choices of people I would normally call dear friends, making me re-evaluate those friendships.  I cannot articulate how utterly disgusted I am with people's political decisions.  I guess this is the reason we should never talk religion or politics.  This begs the question, "Is politics an accurate relationship maker or breaker?"  In most situations I value diversity of thought and opinion, but I cannot bring myself to tolerate the ignorance and irresponsibility of McCain voters.

In the last election I repeatedly reminded myself that no one goes to the voting booth to intentionally destroy and undermine the values of this nation, but this year I refuse to make excuses for people.  I am not willing to be tolerant when American lives hang in the balance.  Are there really Americans out there who want more of a war based on a lie?  Are there really Americans out there who think that keeping Mexicans out of the country is the answer to economical, educational, welfare and other problems?  Are there really Americans out there who think a man known to be volatile and just plain mean will make a good president?

I am appalled to think that logical everyday Americans sincerely believe that McCain could possibly be good for this country--I don't care who his running mate is.  I'm not that educated on foreign policy but what I do know is that the current administration has made the entire world hate us so it's important to me to pick a president that is, at least, nice.  That might sound silly to you but it makes my decision really easy.  Just the fact that there is even a race between the Democratic and Republican parties makes me doubt the common sense of Americans in general.  I'm ready to line up all Republicans and give them all a good hard slap across the face in the hopes that they will suddenly wake up (and I'm not usually a violent person).  

I almost want to withdraw from politics completely because I don't know if I can take a defeat this year.  It's not just the defeat, but what that defeat may signify in the direction this country is taking.  A neighbor remarked to my sister that if McCain wins she will seriously consider changing her citizenship.  I'm not far behind.  I don't think I can handle living with a nation of selfish idiots.  What is our problem?!  Too much MTV?  Too many reality shows?  Britney Spears?  Has our collective IQ dropped so low that we can no longer see what is in our own best interest?  I find this extremely disturbing.

I know I shouldn't provide fuel for the negative energy fire, but I need to vent.  After this blog is published I will not say another bad word about McCain and associates, but right now I can't understand why anyone would choose more of the last eight years.  Are you stupid?  Did half of this country ride the short bus to school?  Help me understand here because I really and truly don't.  

Okay, okay, I'm done.  I now intend to focus all my energies on what a wonderful presidential candidate Barack Obama is and dedicate myself to being an educated voter on all the issues that I feel passionately about.

Everyday Adventures

I was attacked. By a scooter. A razor to be specific. I have always thought those things looked mighty dangerous to someone as clumsy as me but watching my nephews maneuver them with ease put delusions of grandeur in my head. So today I sucked it up and gave it a go. I must say I was surprised at how fun it was. It does require some balancing skills and you kinda have to hit the ground running when you stop, but it was awesome cruising down the block. Downhill is unforgettable, and by downhill I mean a 1 percent decline. Anything steeper than that I find totally intimidating.

I was scared to speed down this driveway that my six year old nephew was taking without thinking twice. Bless his heart, he tried to coach me through it telling me to take the deep rain gutter at a slant so it wouldn't be hard to pass over. Well, after chickening out the first few times and stopping right before I got to the rain gutter, I could no longer tolerate the social stigma of being a "scaredy-cat". I started at the top of the driveway and didn't stop, even when the razor did. Although I ended up in a tangle of feet and swiveling chrome, I am proud to say I remained upright. Of course my shins, achilles and ankles will probably need major reconstructive surgery but the point is I did not land on my butt even once! That is no small feat for me. Today, the driveway. Tomorrow, Kilaminjaro.

My little excursion today made me miss Cheryl, my Maui cruiser. I know two months is not long enough to get attached to something like a bicycle, but that ol' Cheryl and I saw some good times. It's going to be hard to replace her, but I plan on it because time has shown that me plus anything with wheels is a recipe for disaster, I mean, adventure.