Holiday Grumps

Aunt Kim, if you're reading this, I'm NOT talking about you. Well, unless I mention whistling. Then I'm probably talking about you. But I don't think it's going to come up.

(My Aunt Kim and Uncle Howard and a couple of my aunts on my dad's side are pretty normal and fun and don't talk about Jesus all the time.)

While chatting with Gofahne on Monday morning (I know, I wish she would blog more too! But we have to let her go at her own pace, folks. Be nice.) about our respective Thanksgiving weekends, I went on a little rant about holidays.

You see, my sister (we all remember my sister, right?) started a campaign a couple of months ago to get everyone together in Tennessee for Christmas this year. She asked me about it and I said that I probably couldn't go because I can't really afford a ticket and I don't want to take more time off work. The campaign continued to the rest of the family.

Most of my family still lives in Tennessee. This includes my dad's family. My mom's parents and my mom's youngest sister (Aunt Dana, who also made an appearance in both posts about my sister) live here in Dallas (well, the 'burbs), along with my mom and step-dad. My sister lives in New York with her boyfriend.

I mentioned all of that so you could see that this will involve a lot of plane tickets. I guess I probably could have just told you that and saved a paragraph.

Now, I had already told my sister that I probably couldn't make and I thought my mother had said the same thing. Then my sister's boyfriend passed the bar in New York (YAY! CONGRATULATIONS!) and started his first job as a lawyer with a really good law firm and he can't really leave to go visit Tennessee for Christmas. So now my sister, who started all this mess, can't actually go to Tennessee either.

In the meantime, my mom jumped on board with the "everyone in Tennessee for Christmas plan." She asked me about it and I said the same things about a plane ticket and not taking time off work. I said I would think about it, but that I wasn't really all that interested.

She heard, "Yes."

Now we return to Thanksgiving evening. After Princess and I finished dinner with my friends, we had to haul our cookies all the out to the 'burbs for "dessert" with my family. My mom had been quite distressed that I wasn't spending Thanksgiving with the family (despite the fact that I hadn't done so for the last two of them) and had been trying to convince me to just invite my friends (who had their own plans, yo) up to her house for Thanksgiving.

You can imagine my surprise (except I wasn't really, because this is pretty typically the case) when Princess and I showed up at 7:00 pm and they had just sat down to eat. Mom had been working all day, as usual, so no one even cooked anything. Imagine if I had invited my friends up to my parents house for a dinner of Luby's that was supposed to take place at 6:00 and didn't actually happen until 7:00 pm.

This is one of those things that I just don't understand about my mother, but that's a topic for another day.

Quickly the topic turned to Tennessee for the holidays. I said, "Yeah, I don't think I'll be there (blah blah plane ticket time off work blah)."

My mom said, "What?!? I thought you said you were going?"

Crap.

Now, I'm facing off with my mom AND my Nana. No excuse is really working. What I really want to say is, "I DON'T WANT TO SPEND THE HOLIDAYS FEELING UNCOMFORTABLE AND EXHAUSTED BECAUSE I HAVE TO TRY TO SEE EVERY RELATIVE I HAVE IN TENNESSEE IN 48 HOURS. Also, I don't really like Christmas or Christmas carols or spending endless hours with my family." You see, I was trying to AVOID saying all that.

Me: I can't really afford a plane ticket right now.

Mom: That's okay. I can help you out with that.

Me: I don't really want to take more time off work and I don't have any vacations days left.

Mom: Well, you can wait to leave on Christmas Eve after work.

Me: So really, it doesn't matter what I want?

Everyone: Geez! Don't get all upset! If you don't want to go, just say so! We don't want you to spend time with us if you don't want to!

CRAP.

Me: Yeah, I don't really want to go. I just want to have a nice, relaxing, quiet Christmas and if I go to Tennessee, I will be exhausted.

And I thought it was over.

WRONG.

About an hour later, my mom brought it up again. I think I left it at, "FINE. You buy the plane ticket and tell me where to be, since I clearly have no say in the matter.

She said, "Okay."

So it looks like I'm going to Tennessee for Christmas. Or maybe I'm not. I'm at the mercy of my mother now. When we had dinner on Monday night, she said, "Sarah can't come? This was all her idea...maybe we should just scratch the whole plan and go to New York to visit her."

I'm guessing I'll know the plan on Christmas Eve.

I recounted this story to Gofahne and she said, "The holidays are meant to torment single people that would rather just chill, relax, and be alone. I swear that is their purpose."

I kind of agree.

Look, I don't hate my family. I'm just tired of everything always being on someone else's terms. What about what I want? I suppose the difference between my dad's family and my mom's family is that I actually feel like my dad's family wants to see me and isn't just pursuing some bizarre "Our family loves to be together, see everyone? We're PERFECT!" ritual. However, my dad's mom only talks about calories and Jesus any more and my dad's dad goes on about socially conservative politics all the time and I just can't take that crap. You can see the dilemma, right?

Could I please just meet a boy who doesn't want to wear my skin?

I'm just going to start at the beginning, repetitive though it may be. It's really long. Far too long. But when I sent it to Rebecca (do you ZooLoo? I do!) over at Losing it to see if she could help me edit it down, her response was "You. Cannot. Edit. Any. Of. This." So here it is, in all its glory. Feel free to skim it, peruse it, glance at it, print it out and light it on fire, or not read it at all. I won't hold it against you. There's some really good stuff in here, though. How did all of this happen in two months?


At the end of January, I got dumped by a douchebag of epic proportions. I wrote about it endlessly as if anyone cared. As it turned out, some people did (thanks for your support, guys!). Who knew?

I wasted far too much energy and far too many tears on someone who really never cared about me in the first place.

I closed myself off and shut myself down for a good four months. Then, one day, it was like the light just came on again. I started going out more and hanging out with my friends while not wearing my pajamas. I found some new hobbies. I met some new people. It was great.

Then I ran into Motorboater. We all remember him, right? Very quickly, though we’d only really been out a few times, he got really attached to me. It freaked me out. A lot. The whole time I was saying things like, “I’m not really ready for anything serious” and “Gosh, I kinda think you’re a jackass” and “Gee, no, I really don’t trust you.” And still, it didn’t dissuade him.

Then came the day when he decided to go into weird, slightly psychotic mode. There were phone calls and text messages and he asked me to meet his mom (after like three dates…wtf?). My personal favorite was when he asked me if I wanted to come hang out with him and his mom (no), and I said I had plans to go rock climbing with my friends and then we were going to have dinner. His response? “Cancel that. I haven’t seen you in a week.”

Not bloody likely. (Sometimes I don an English accent when I'm pissed.)

After a couple more calls and texts and some guilt trip about how he didn’t have anyone to talk to because his mom was hanging out with the guy she picked up at the last bar, I agreed to come out for one beer. Then his mom gave that stranger a blow job in front of the bar. And I was done. Stick a fork in me, whatever.

I didn’t hear from him for a while after that, which was fine with me. Then he called me one night, while I was at dinner with my mom. I didn’t call him back. That was the end of it. So I thought.

A week or so later, I ran into him at a bar. I tried to be nice and just sort of friendly let’s let bygones be bygones about the whole thing. But Motorboater? No…he steadfastly refused to speak to me for most of the evening, but while sitting at my table. Ugh. Then he finally left. At 2:00 am, I receive a text about how he didn’t think that seeing me would affect him, but it does and it really sucks when someone tells you they don’t want to get hurt, but then they ignore your calls and act like nothing’s wrong and how he knows that this is what happened to me in my last relationship, so he knows I know how much this hurts.

What?

So my year and a half long relationship is comparable to our three dates? No. Save that drama for your mama (not that she doesn’t cause enough of it on her own.). I’m out.

Then I met this guy and we were friends and I really enjoyed that and then he kissed me and it was nice and we went out once, but I was worried about it ending our friendship so I had to say something and I think I hurt his feelings, but we’re still friends and everything is okay. I hope. (And he reads my blog. Everyone say hi!)

Last week, I was shopping for groceries and this guy sort of…hit on me. Blah blah, he asked me out and he seemed cool, so I said yes. We had a really great first date. Like really great. Movie first date great. We had a really great first kiss. Like really great. Better than movie first kiss great. (Of course the next day, via text message he FREAKED me out by telling me he felt like we were involved and asking me if I felt the same…wtf? After what follows, you can totally come back up here and say, “Uh, shine? RED FLAG!” and you will be completely right and I will buy you a beer. Or a cupcake.)

And I got excited. About a boy. We hung out a couple more times. I decided to overlook that he was wearing crocs, for crying out loud…who does that? Plus, he was a smoker. Still, I was excited. Our second date was also good. Then we had our third date. It can only be described as awkward with a touch of defensive. I’m not sure what happened, but the whole time we were at dinner, things were just…off. He told me stories I wouldn’t tell someone I was trying to impress, he quizzed me on music (Because he knew I had dated a couple of musicians and he’s a musician, blah blah. Oh, by the way, I’m DONE with musicians. I hope…), and generally acted in a bizarre fashion.

Oh, I should mention here that he also had this thing for asking me what I was thinking. Do boys outside of high school still do that? I thought you men were all about not knowing what we’re thinking. And this wasn’t just like hey we’re sitting in silence for five minutes and you have this pained expression on your face so I’m going to ask you what you’re thinking because it seems like I should. This was like hey we’re kissing, but now I’m going to pull back and ask, “What are you thinking?” or say, “Penny for your thoughts…” Yeah, in that moment, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking. Trust me. It’s about what an idiot you are, though.

If I want you to know what I’m thinking, I’ll tell you. Does it seem to anyone that I have a problem saying what’s on my mind?

Also, if he texted me mushy crap like “Miss you, XOXO” I didn’t really respond (Because ew). Then a few minutes later I would get a text about how I didn’t respond. Usually fairly defensive in nature. “So I guess no hugs and kisses from you?” Ugh. I don’t really play that crap. It’s weird and stupid and I don’t get it. WHEN I’VE KNOWN SOMEONE FOR A WEEK. I don’t actually miss you, yo. So I’m not going to lie.

Then his roommate came home and everything sort of went into the shitter. It was already teetering on the edge, anyway. Then his incredibly conservative, incredibly republican, incredibly aggressive roommate gave me the third degree for an hour and a half. And he (my date) said the words “Obama is a complete fucking idiot.”

Sure, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. But really? Obama’s a complete fucking idiot? I just don’t think so. I refuse to sit and be attacked about my politics by people I barely know. Hell, I refuse to discuss politics with anyone.

I grimly muscled through it and about 15 more what are you thinkings and the next day, I promptly called my bestest mcbestest friend in the whole wide world and the love of my life (it’s really too bad neither of us is a man), Cheese, to discuss. We decided that he definitely lost points and that I was probably going to have to end it.

I was in favor of just letting it fizzle out. After all, we’d only known each other for a week and it wasn’t like we were friends or anything. But oh, no.

Every Monday night, after I work for 12 hours straight, I meet my mom for dinner. We’re trying to have a relationship and stuff. I guess while I was at dinner, he texted me, “Thinkin bout ya! :-)” I know there’s nothing wrong with that, per se. But we’ve only known each other a week and that’s the 37th such text I’ve received. It’s just a little much for me.

After dinner, I called Cheese and we talked while I drove home. Then I downloaded and installed the latest update for my phone (Hello, texting in landscape, you sexy beast!), which took a good half hour. Then my phone rang. Him again.

“Hi. Miss you. What are you doing?”

It’s 11:00 pm on Monday, I’m in my bed. Duh.

“You know, when I text you, it’s totally okay if you text me back. It’s not going to freak me out.”

At this point, I’m pretty sure me skinning a live animal in front of you wouldn’t freak you out. I let out a big sigh and explained that I was busy and shit.

We got off the phone and I went to sleep thinking, yeah, that’s over.

Wednesday, while I was at work, he called me. I didn’t answer BECAUSE I WAS AT WORK. He left me a message, “Uh, hey. It’s me. Give me a call if you don’t mind.”

Five minutes later, he texted me: Hey you! Any chance u may be able to hang after jits 2nite?

Thirty minutes later: Guess u r 2 busy 2 talk 2 me. Drop a line when u can if u don’t mind. Thanks.

(Can I just mention here how much I hate this kind of text? Unless you're phone is old, I see no reason that you can't type out at least most of the words. It takes me forever to translate and it gives me a headache.)

Two hours later: Is everything ok? Not like you to not respond. (To which I kind of wanted to scream “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS ‘LIKE’ ME!)

Three hours after that: Well…Hope u r ok.

Then at 11:00 pm, a minute and a half long voicemail including crap like, “I just want to make sure you're okay and you're safe and I haven't done anything to piss you off...just please call me and let me know you're okay, sweetie."

So, okay, with no response from me whatsoever, he called twice, left me two voicemails, and texted me four times. By this point I was so twitchy and annoyed about the whole thing, I didn’t even want to talk to him. Had it been one phone call or one text message (maybe even two texts), I would have gotten in touch with him and we would have proceeded with the fizzle.

Instead, at this point, I’m kind of concerned that he’s going to make a suit of my skin and wear it to feel pretty.

This morning, I sent him the following text:

I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I didn’t have my phone with me yesterday, and coming home to two phone calls, two voicemails, and four text messages is way too much, way too fast for me. I’m sure that you’ll find someone who will be thrilled with this level of attention, but that someone is not me. I just don’t see a future for us.

Which I think is damn near crystal clear (The Mole thinks I was far too nice). Not that I expected him to just deal and move on…since clearly he’s crazy.

He usually sleeps really late, so I wasn’t exactly expecting a response right away. I knew I was going to get one, mind you, just not in the next minute or two.

So I get this text:

Please don’t do this. I am very sorry that it was too much. I was genuinely concerned. I care and it gets the better of me when I worry. Please don’t end this…it just got started.

Ugh. First of all, no, you weren’t genuinely concerned. You were worried you had pissed me off, sure. But I’m a grown-up. Not returning a text message for a few hours is not a sign of death. Just a sign that I’m either a) busy, or b) don’t really want to talk to you. Either way, I’ll get back to you when I’m ready and pushing it is only going to make me want to talk to you less. Second of all, seriously, it’s been a fucking week. Get over it.

Then, before I even really had a chance to respond, which I didn’t think I particularly owed him anyway, since I had made myself clear, I get this text (we’re talking about maybe two minutes later…and again, I’M AT WORK):

Wow…No response to my feelings. Ok. Guess there is nothing I can say to change your mind. Thanks for the very little time we shared. Sorry to burden you with my care. Have a good one.

Boo fucking hoo is about all I have to say to that. Also, “Sorry to burden you with my care” is an INSTANT CLASSIC and I will be using it all the time. (Rebecca's reaction: also, sorry to burden you with my care is so awesome, i want to sew it on a pillow, stain it with my own blood and send it to someone. Hell, yeah. Sounds like a Christmas present to me.)

UPDATE: I received yet another text from him: I really wish you would reconsider. I thought we had a good thing starting between us.

It's Friday, we should break up - The State of California and Every Social Conservative in Existence

Kim, over at repliderium.com writes a regular letter to a random asshole. She calls it "Dear Asshole." Which I think is pretty awesome. This week, she wrote a "Dear Asshole" letter to the California Supreme Court. Short, sweet, and to the point.

My comment was (longer than her actual post, yes I tend to do that) this:

But they let the marriages that were performed stand, too. Which makes no sense.

Wait, let me start over. Seriously, people, wtf? This is not okay. No one should get married, I’ll grant you, but if you’re going to let some people get married, you have to let all people get married. I understand not approving marriage between people and goats, even though some people truly do love goats. But allowing gay people to marry does not mean that next week people will be marrying goats. Even though they don’t talk back and I hear they’re very gentle lovers. One does not lead to the other. Nor does any of the other crap you’re so afraid of make any fucking sense. Please follow your Bible’s rules and stone me for eating shrimp, if that’s how it has to be.

But having said that, how does it make sense to say, “Yeah, this isn’t okay, I supreme courtly rule that you don’t have the right to be married. But…well, it’s okay for this small percentage of the gay population who got in under the wire”? Way to create strife in an otherwise, fairly united community. Assholes.

Can someone please please explain to me the fear people feel about this? I just don't get it. At all.

So I'm breaking up with you, California. Even if your beaches and your people are pretty.

And to all you social conservatives out there - watch out. Pretty soon, we'll all be coming after you. Just wait until we strip away your rights. Oh wait...you kinda like that, don't you? That explains the eight freaking years of George W. Bush. Maybe we'll force all of you to be in a relationship with a goat. I see a YouTube video in the making...

Well, we think he might be gay...

So I already told you about my first morning in Tennessee. Now let me finish up the day.

After my little chat with Granddaddy, Grandmother and I went to the grocery store. This would be the first of about six trips. On the way there, I mentioned that Granddaddy kind of cornered me to talk about politics that morning. She rolled her eyes and said that she wished he wouldn't do that.

"But I am really scared because I think we're heading towards socialism. And that scares me."

The thing is, though, I suspect that she doesn't really know anything about socialism or what it is. And we're really soooo not headed there. We are capitalists. Plain and simple. But a pure capitalist system is just not realistic. So we have lots of programs in place that are more socialist in nature. And that's okay.

Otherwise, please return your social security check. Thanks.

Feel free to not use the post office. And your roads? Yeah, we can stop fixing those.

Just putting it out there.

Anyway, I think she pretty much just believes whatever Granddaddy tells her. Oh, and that God will take care of it.

After the grocery store, we went to have lunch at O'Charley's. She told me about how all my aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and cousins were doing. I hadn't seen anyone in three years or so.

My dad has seven kids, aside from me. He's never really been much a part of my life. He and my mom were married for about an hour (okay, it might have been a year), 29 years ago. He remarried when I was six or seven, I think. And then the baby making began. My youngest sibling is 24 years younger than me. And I have had apartments that were larger and had more bathrooms (2) than the house where these nine people live.

But they are all well behaved and smart. And very talented musically. Except maybe the youngest one. They invented the recorder as a torture device for grown-ups, right? Cause that thing is terrible. To be fair, she's only five and I'm sure she will be amazing should she ever take up a real instrument.

Anyway, one of my brothers decided he wanted to play the oboe. And since they're all home-schooled (yes, all seven...though the oldest is now in college), my step-mom had to find an oboe teacher.

Grandmother said: Well, she finally found someone, but...we think he might be gay.
Me: So?
Grandmother: Well, she went ahead with it. She never leaves him alone with [my brother] and always monitors their lessons.
Me: Um...why?
Grandmother: Well, she doesn't want him to do anything to [my brother]. I told her that it would probably be okay as long as she kept a good eye on them.
Me: Because he's gay? Grandmother, you do realize that just because someone is gay doesn't mean that person molests children, right?
Grandmother: Well, I know that...
Me: Do you? Because it doesn't really sound like it. Straight people are perfectly capable of molesting children, and probably far more likely. Being gay has nothing to do with it.

I can only hope that my step-mom keeps as close an eye on her children who have straight music teachers.

I'm not naive, okay. I realize that my grandparents are social conservatives. Hell, they're about the only people I know who are still Baptists. But to sit and say this crap out loud was just too much for me. It's so unfair. I hate it when people just stand by and let others say hateful things, so I said something.

But she didn't stop talking about it. So I just sat there, with my teeth clenched, trying to keep my mouth shut. Because it's not okay to tell your Grandmother to shut up either, right?

Then she told me about how one of my cousins "got in with the black boys at school," and how they were such a bad influence on him. Ugh.

Me: You realize that bad comes in all colors, right?
Grandmother: Of course I do.
Me: But you felt the need to point out that they were black boys. If they had been white, would you have said "white boys"? Or just "boys"?

She didn't have much to say to that. I spent the rest of the day shaking because I was so angry that my family could be so hateful. Then I had to go to church to watch my 7-year-old cousin sing for 30 minutes in the first grade choir. I don't do church. Or kids.

My Granddaddy spent the rest of my trip getting little Republican barbs in whenever he could. My Grandmother spent the rest of my trip talking about nothing but calories and Jesus.

It might be another three years before I go back.

All Liberals are Pro-Abortion

AKA what my Granddaddy said to me at 8:30 AM on the first full day of my visit to Tennessee.

I haven’t been to Tennessee to visit my family in about three years. I know, I know. I’m a horrible person. I’ve been busy, okay?

In the car, on the way home from the airport, I accidentally let it slip that I voted for Obama. I didn’t realize it should be a huge secret, mind you. I thought we were still free to vote for whomever we wanted in this country, even Paris Hilton (I’m still surprised she didn’t win after those awesome campaign commercials).

I thought my Granddaddy was going to pull the car over and make me pick my own switch. For those of you not from The South, it’s a version of psychological warfare that parents and grandparents used to torture children.

My grandparents have always lived in The South. And it shows. The next morning, Granddaddy was on a mission to convert me. I guess he thought we would have a mature conversation in which he would tell me all the reasons why voting for Obama was “Un-American” and I would say, “Golly gee, you’re so right! I’m going to call and see if I can change my vote!” Which, by the way, didn’t even really matter, since I live in Texas. Every vote counts, my ass. But that’s neither here nor there.

So Granddaddy starts in about how Obama wants gas to get above five dollars a gallon. How he’s going to take our guns away and then all the criminals will kill us in our beds, but they won’t even get punished because Obama won’t want anyone to be in prison. Okay, he didn’t say that business about prison, but it seems like something he should think.

He spouts off about how he just can’t stand to see our rights taken away like this. Even though he was totally fine with W. stripping away his rights for eight years.

Do you know what caused the mortgage crisis? Clinton gave mortgages to all those black people who couldn’t afford houses. Apparently the white people who couldn’t afford houses don’t count.

And the economy? Why is it in the toilet? The fear of Obama getting elected put everyone in a panic and the entire economy collapsed because of it. Then they all went out and voted for him. Odd.

Obama’s a Muslim. Obama isn’t a citizen of the US. Obama probably wasn’t even born on this planet. I think he’s from Saturn or something. Maybe Pluto.

And for all this, I just sort of smiled and nodded and kept my mouth shut. There’s no sense in arguing. Plus, this is my Granddaddy. I can’t tell him to shut up, right?

Then he told me that “all liberals are pro-abortion,” and that they’re going to take away a doctor’s right to refuse to do an abortion, so then no doctors will want to even perform births and hospitals will get rid of their OBGYN programs and people will be having their babies on the streets. Now, I’m not sure how you follow that train from the beginning to the end, but that was where he crossed the line for me.

“Granddaddy. No one is pro-abortion. No one. Okay, there might be a few people who are actually pro-abortion, but they’re weird. It’s about choices. It’s about women’s rights, which you clearly don’t understand. But no one is ‘pushing abortion’ on people who don’t want it.”

He just looked at me. Can he really think that people are yanking pregnant women off the street and forcing them to have abortions against their will?

Then he reminded me that Obama voted to kill new borns after they’d already been born. Uh…no. He didn’t. Good grief. He voted against something because it was redundant. There are already laws that protect babies from murder.

Granddaddy does think that the laws about hate crimes are redundant, though. I mean, there are already laws about murdering people. Why should it matter that it was because of hate? Just though homosexuals pushing their crazy “have the same rights as everyone else” agenda on us again.

So I got him off track by talking about football. So, how ‘bout those Titans, eh? Whew.

You know those emails that circulate around with all the crazy stuff about Obama and liberals and crap (I’ve never gotten any about Republicans, really)? The ones most of us just delete? Yeah, my Granddaddy believes all of them. He probably sent them to you. I’m sorry.

Stay tuned for the next installment, “My Grandmother thinks all gay men want to rape little boys.”

Teabag Mouthpieces Lick Obama

A friend just sent me this little gem:



I think it speaks for itself.

Remember Alf Landon?

I didn't. But I thought this article, written by Harold Meyerson at The Washington Post, was pretty interesting. Your thoughts?

"The New Landonists"

The leader of the Republican Party was fulminating against the Democratic president's programs. All that government spending, and yet, he said, "the nation has not made the durable progress, either in reform or recovery, that we had the right to expect." The problem was that the president didn't trust the market to right the economy: "The energies of the American economic system will remedy the ravages of depression," he argued.

And then there was that Republican radio ad featuring a couple wondering if they could afford to get married in a nation with so profligate a government. "All those debts!" said Mary. "Somebody is giving us a dirty deal," said John. The ad concluded with a somber narrator saying, "And the debts, like the sins of the fathers, shall be visited upon the children, aye, even unto the third and fourth generations."

The speeches were those of Alf Landon, the Republican presidential nominee of 1936, who turned his campaign into an attack on the New Deal and all its (public) works, including the debts that those works incurred. Despite the speeches and the John-and-Mary ad on his behalf, Alf Landon lost to Franklin Roosevelt by the widest margin in the history of presidential elections, while the congressional Republicans lost to congressional Democrats by a similarly historic margin.

Now, if you listen to today's Republican revisionists, the Greatest Generation voters who gave FDR towering majorities in all but two states were a bunch of saps. Rather than wait for capitalism to right itself, they backed a president who understood that when private capital stopped investing, public capital had to take up the slack. For some inexplicable reason, they warmed to a president who used public funds to bring electricity to rural America rather than wait for private utilities to get around to it in a decade or two. Oddly, they backed a president who put 4 million Americans on the payroll of the Works Progress Administration (WPA) at a time when private payrolls were contracting, and they actually found value in such federal "make-work" creations as post offices, libraries and the Triborough Bridge.

And the debt that John and Mary's government incurred? Invested as it was in productive infrastructure, it enabled them to live by far the most prosperous lives that any generation had ever lived. If John and Mary lived in the South, it plowed so much money into the infrastructure of that historically lagging region that it closed much of the gap that had long made it the nation's poor stepchild.

Today, the arguments made for and against President Obama's stimulus plan really aren't that different from the arguments that were made for and against the New Deal some 75 years ago. Where the New Dealers brought electric power to rural Americans, the Obama people want to bring them broadband access. Where the New Deal built dams to generate power from rivers, the Obama people want to build a power grid that can channel electricity generated by wind.

As for the Republicans, they remain locked in Landonism. While retail chains topple like so many dominos as consumers cut back, the Republicans focus on cutting corporate taxes, as though the problem confronting American businesses was the tax on their profits rather than the fact that, in the absence of sales, they have no profits.**

In particular, both the Republicans and the Blue Dog Democrats exhibit a Landonesque failure to appreciate the crisis of under-investment into which American finance, now as in the '30s, has plunged the nation. The essence of the crisis, and what distinguishes both the Depression and the current meltdown from every recession between the '30s and today, is that, left to their own devices, private lending and investment will not and cannot bounce back. Only the government can provide the capital to restart capitalism, which remains, absent diligent regulation, a periodically self-annihilating system.

At times such as these, the normal measurements of government spending need to be altered. What the Obama plan envisions government doing (and what I wish it actually did more of) is committing itself to what would under normal circumstances be lending and investment undertaken by the private sector -- lest lending and investment cease altogether. The Greatest Generation's voters understood the logic of such a strategy when they reelected Roosevelt and his fellow Democrats by unheard-of margins. They rejected Landon's belief that "the American economic system" would by itself fix the crisis it had created. We can only hope that today's Americans have the wisdom of their forebears.

**Bold added for emphasis

What about the children?

Is anyone else as tired as I am of this question?

Why should I have to live my life based on the needs of your children? If you don't want your kids to watch "filth" on television, get rid of your TV set. Or your cable. And your computer and internet access. It's not my fault you chose to have children.

Recently Michael Phelps was photographed mouth-to-bong. In all the uproar, the thing I hear most is, "What about the children?" One man called into a radio show last night to ask, "How am I supposed to tell my 15-year-old son, who is a swimmer, that he can't do those things if he wants to swim like Michael Phelps when Michael Phelps is doing them?"

I don't know. Just do? You're the dad, figure it out. Michael Phelps is a human being. He is not bound to live by some imaginary set of laws set about to protect people's children. Oh, wait. Actually, he kind of is.

You see, swimmers don't make money swimming. Michael Phelps makes money from endorsements. And guess who might not have that lucrative McDonald's endorsement now that he's been caught smoking pot?

The problem is that smoking pot is illegal in the first place. It shouldn't be. No more than smoking cigarettes or consuming alcohol.

So unfortunately for Michael Phelps, his indiscretion will probably cost him. Of course, maybe that McDonald's endorsement isn't so great after all. When he first started doing those commercials, people tried to sue him for making their kids fat.

Maybe it's time we start teaching our kids about the evil that is advertising, instead of trying to blame their obesity on Michael Phelps. He's not fat, kids. You know why? Because he works out harder than almost anyone, and he does it everyday.

Get over it.

For the last two days, every time I turn the radio dial to anything besides NPR, everyone is talking about one thing. Nope, it's not that we have a new President (Woohoo!), or that our new President is black (Really, he is!). It's not the economy. It's not the closing of Gitmo (Yay!). It's that a couple of private high schools' girls' basketball teams played each other and one beat the other 100-0. For two days.

So now I'm going to bore myself with talking about it some more.

Granted the story gains a little more depth when you find out that the team who got beat is a school for kids with learning differences (Honestly, I'm not sure what differences means in this scenario...we all learn differently. I suppose it's just become politically incorrect to say "learning difficulties" or "learning disabilities." So be it.), and that they only have 20 girls in their whole school, and that they've had a girls' basketball team for four years without once winning a game. But there it is.

Now, I'm all for sportsmanship. I think it totally sucks to run up the score in a prickish manner (a la New England Patriots), but in my opinion, you can't really blame or punish the girls on the winning team for their victory. Their coach can take a hefty chunk of the blame, sure. But those girls were just doing what they've been taught to do in sports all their life. Go out and play your hardest. To tell them they did something wrong is just silly. It's a competition. They're there to compete and play their best. That's what they did. End of story.

The coach made a bad judgment call, clearly. After half-time, there probably should have been a bit of a different game on the court. Put in your B squad, do some drills you've been wanting to practice, force more passing, hold the ball for longer, whatever. And seriously, it's a bad idea to say, "It just happened." It didn't "just happen." It was four periods of picking on the little guy. He wanted to put 100 points on the board, so he left all his starters in. A win is a win, no matter what the final score is. Bad judgment.

But I don't think it's fair to say that they should have let the other team score. It's the other team's responsibility to score. I don't think we should be defining "good sportsmanship" as "let the other team score." Losing builds character. Losing in a crappy 100-0 game against a school who never took their starters out builds more character. That team has lost every game for four seasons, but they still have a team. If they were quitters, they would have given up on having a team long ago. And it seems to be common consensus that they played their hardest, even when they saw the insurmountable score in front of them. Why aren't we celebrating that? I think those girls are pretty awesome. I probably would have just stood on the court after half time.

The girls on the losing team aren't crying about their loss. Even their coach is taking it pretty well. And at no point did he go over to the other coach and say anything during the game.

The lesson we should all take from this is not that competition is bad. Competition is good. It's why we're all here, evolutionarily speaking (but far more complicated). The lesson, in my opinion, that we should take from this is: No matter how bad the outcome appears, try your hardest. Be the best you can be (Ugh, now I feel almost like an ad for the ARMY. Bastards!).

Oh, wait. I forgot. This is the most important lesson: If you do something questionable as a coach, remember that there will likely be a media shit storm all over your ass, with people asking for your head to roll or possibly for you to be strung up and quartered or tarred and feathered...all because you didn't think hard enough before making the decision. Just ask Wade Phillips.

The Empress's New Clothes

Fellow Blogger, Andre wrote a blog a couple of days ago. My comment was so long that I decided to just post it as a blog.

The proposition was that Michelle Obama's inauguration dress should cause the same media stir that the McCain campaign's ostentatious new wardrobe for Sarah Palin did. Go read it for yourself, though, because I could be totally off-base. These are my thoughts:

Using campaign funds to make yourself over is completely different from being extravagant with your own money. I know Palin said she didn't know about the clothes, but that's just...well, hard to swallow. Even if you didn't know someone was going out to purchase them for you, you sure as hell knew about them once they were dropped on your lap. I'm not saying it was all her fault, but c'mon...don't use ignorance as an excuse. That's pathetic. Not to mention that it's not really what I'm looking for in a vice presidential candidate.

In addition to that, who's to say that Michelle Obama is actually paying for the extravagant dress? Which doesn't even exist yet, by the way, so it's hard to say how extravagant it will be or how much it will cost. Lots of designers design clothing for celebrities to wear on the red carpet, let them borrow said clothes, then sell them for crazy amounts of money as "The Dress worn by so-and-so at the Oscar's! A must have for the season!"

Michelle Obama hasn't even done anything wrong yet, and you're going to jump all over her (and the media) because some moron from Alaska got busted using campaign funds for a ridiculous amount of new clothes during a presidential election and it made the news? Should they report on the possibility of her buying an extravagant dress?

And the percentage of the budget isn't really the point, in my opinion. If Obama had gone out and used campaign funds to buy himself a hooker in Las Vegas, would it matter that it was only 0.0000000000000001% of his total budget? Unlikely.

The irony is that McCain himself sponsored a bill on campaign finance reform and then his running mate gets caught with $150K of campaign funded clothing. Is it against the rules? Apparently not. But it makes him look bad. She made him look bad. Over and over and over.

Not to mention the overwhelming irony that blossoms up when the McCain campaign has been accusing Obama of being elitist and out of touch with regular people. So in order to be more in touch with regular people, Sarah Palin (Average Joe Hockey Mom Golly Gee) needed $150K in new clothes for the campaign? McCain can't remember how many houses he owns? It's just...ridiculous. And probably the reason they got such media attention about it. If you call someone out on something, you should probably be sure you're not guilty of the same thing first. Nearly all politicians are out of touch with us regular folk.

I hate to say it, but I think the comparison is apples to oranges. Or actually, apples to elephants. They're not even remotely the same to me. Do I think spending thousands of dollars (or possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars) on one dress for one night is a smart use of your money when the entire country is in financial melt-down? No. But it's not my choice and she isn't using my money to do it. Brides and celebrities do it all the time. And she hasn't even done it yet. And the story is out there, or neither of us would know about it. Has it made national news? No. But if she was using campaign funds to buy it, you can bet your ass that it would make national news. Don't worry, the national news tends to cover Paris Hilton's every sneeze. We'll hear about it.

Birthers

So it seems the search for Obama's "real" birth certificate continues despite his having produced a Certificate of Live Birth, despite the state of Hawaii having confirmed it to be legitimate, despite the birth announcement in the newspaper in Hawaii, despite independent parties having examined his Certificate of Live Birth and pronouncing it legitimate, despite the Supreme Court refusing indulge at least two parties' claims that Obama is not a US citizen. So my question is this: What would it take?

Short of presenting you with a vial of placental ooze which can be DNA tested and then tested for some chemicals in the air native to Hawaii, I can't think of anything that will "prove" his citizenship beyond a reasonable doubt. Of course, if he were white, this probably wouldn't even be an issue.

And really folks, a Certificate of Live Birth is a Birth Certificate. And if they aren't exactly the same, then a Certificate of Live Birth is a more complete version and a Birth Certificate is what they send you when you request a copy, as far as I can tell. But it seems there's no standard and states can call the particular form whatever they'd like.

As for the whole mess about applying for a Hawaiian Birth Certificate if you weren't born in Hawaii - c'mon. Do you really not think there are rules about such a thing? Rules about amending a birth certificate due to birth in a foreign country? You can only apply if you were legally adopted by a citizen of the United States. There is no reason to think that Obama was adopted. And if he did have an amended birth certificate, it would be evident on the certificate itself. Which it's not.

And even if he was born in Kenya, which he clearly wasn't, his mother was a US Citizen. According to US Citizenship laws, any child born abroad to one parent who is a US Citizen will meet the requirements for US citizenship if three conditions are met:

1. At least one of your parents is a US Citizen.

2. The parent who is a US Citizen had lived in the United States at
least five years prior to your birth.

3. The parent who is a US Citizen had lived in the United States for
at least 10 years of his or her life, five of which had to be after his or her 14th birthday.

There doesn't seem to be any evidence at all (yeah, I know it's Wikipedia, but it's what I could find right now, okay?) of Obama's mother living outside the United States at all prior to her marriage to Obama's father or the birth of her son Barack. So even if he were born in Kenya, he's still a natural born US Citizen.

Even though all evidence is to the contrary, we're going to harp on this...until when? Shouldn't we be slightly more concerned with, say, the fact that our current President receives the same treatment in Iraq as the ripped down statue of Saddam Hussein? Oh! I said "Hussein," we should probably whine some more about Obama's middle name.

Realistically speaking, we need to get it together. Our country is in trouble and we need to focus on more than these ludicrous citizenship claims, which have already been debunked. Nothing will be good enough. It's almost as bad as the "God did it" argument. Let. It. Go.

One of AOL's bloggers posted a blog another blog about all this yesterday. I think commenter "Tony" said it best:

"So the conservatives will accept a president who was given a pass in to the Air Nat'l Guard, went AWOL to campaign for another, lost the the popular vote in an election by half a million votes yet was appointed by the Supreme Court and lied to the American public to start a war in Iraq when the enemy was based in Afghanistan, but won't accept a US Senator whose father was born in another country? You're lucky to live in America, where it's not fatal to be stupid."


Thanks Tony!

Proposition 37

So I'm sure everyone knows that California citizens voted to ban gay marriage. And Arkansas citizens voted that unmarried couples (people?) can no longer adopt children. Since our country is clearly in a state of crazy, I'd like to propose a ban that's near and dear to my heart.

I'm calling it "Keep your kids the fuck out of my restaurant/hotel/bar/store/personal space." What do you think?

The proposition is this: let's divide places of business and social activities in half, having a "children's section" and a "section of sanity." It'll be just like the old days when they asked you "Smoking or non-smoking?" before they took you to your table at the restaurant. Only instead of letting the children run willy nilly from section to section like they did with cigarette smoke, there should be concrete, sound-proof walls. With electric shock fences.

In the children's section, children should be encouraged to scream bloody murder, splat ketchup on innocent strangers, throw up, or otherwise make themselves menaces. Then maybe people won't have so many kids. Or they will, but they'll stop taking them out to restaurants. My guess is, they'll still have too many kids, and they'll still take them out to restaurants, but they'll be tortured even more than the rest of us because of the high concentration of kids in their sections of stores.

If you'd like to have a night of peace, leave your kids at home. I didn't have kids so that all my nights would have peace.

I'm still working on the plan for retail stores, but I'm sure I'll think of something. It wouldn't be very cost efficient to suggest that the stores just provide double the merchandise, split up into two sides, so that I don't have to listen to you horribly-behaved child yelling while I'm trying to pick out a sweater.

My hope is that this will go the way of the smoking section, and soon children won't be allowed anywhere.

Cool Down

This is taken from a thing I wrote from this website where I used to write (awesome sentence, I know). We were all tasked with coming up with our own way to end global warming. Take notes, it's a good one!

Global warming. What a bitch, huh? Some people believe in it, some people don’t. Some people just don’t care. Lots of people think it doesn’t matter because God will take care of them. I think it’s something we all need to be more aware of. Personally, I don’t plan on having any kids, and I don’t think we can destroy the planet before I die, so I’m not all that worried. But the rest of you guys who will have children and grandchildren running around…well, I would be concerned, if I were you.

So what’s the solution? I’m sure there are many. Scientists have been looking at the problem for years. I mean, that’s why we’re not allowed to use aerosol hairspray, right? My Nana went through serious withdrawals without her Aquanet, by the way. I don’t know why we always have to punish the old folks with our new scientific discoveries.

Well, when I started thinking about how I would solve the global warming problem, an episode of Mythbusters came to mind. I love that show. It’s really entertaining, even if sometimes the science is a little fuzzy. Anyway, there was an episode where they determined the fastest way to cool down a six-pack of beer. Presumably so that if you were out somewhere and hadn’t thought to ice down your beer, you could get it done in a hurry. I would recommend just remembering to ice down your beer.

They tried a lot of different ways, but the winner was to spray the beers down with a fire extinguisher. Now, I don’t know how often you have a fire extinguisher with you at a tail-gating party, or wherever you need cold beer, but I usually don’t keep one in my car. Maybe I should…

So how would I solve the global warming problem? I think I would commission the building of a special satellite device. It would have to hold millions of gallons of carbon-dioxide foam. While orbiting the earth, the satellite device would continually spray down our planet.

The atmosphere will likely be a problem. I’m thinking the foam would have to travel down to earth is some kind of laser beam with atmosphere penetrating qualities, but hopefully one that won’t destroy all our houses and buildings and stuff. That would really suck. All in the name of science, though. Sacrifices must be made. I don’t know if such a thing exists, but I think we could make it happen.

The satellite would have to start at the North Pole and work its way down and around the planet in circles. I don’t know how fast these things move, but it needs to move slow enough to really coat the ground with foam. We’ll develop a schedule, so that when the foam is supposed to be hitting your area, you’ll be inside. We would hate for everyone to get covered in foam, right?

The only trouble I can see thus far are certain groups of people who have no inside. But they’re tough. I bet they can handle a little carbon-dioxide. Just hold your breath and close your eyes. The fire-extinguisher cool-down will probably take a few months, maybe even a whole year. But hey, if it can cool down a six-pack of beer in record time, why not our planet?

My other suggestion would be to put in pipelines all over the earth, but just for ice. Not gas or oil or Cheez Whiz, like usual. They’re doing amazing things with directional boring these days. Apparently, they bored all the way across the Mississippi River about 50 feet down or so. The river’s a mile wide in that area, and they came up on the other side within inches of the target.

They could just send those little boring machines all over the earth, boring holes and installing pipelines for ice. That should cool us down. And we’ll have to build lots and lots of giant ice-making factories, thereby creating lots and lots of jobs. The refilling process could be pretty time consuming.

Maybe it would be smarter to just get Santa’s elves to replace the ice on the polar ice caps?

Am I proud to be an American?

I’ve had occasion in the last several months to think about what it means to me to be an American, about what it means to me to be an American woman. I can say with conviction that I am left without a definitive answer. Our country was founded by a bunch of old, rich, white men. So what did they do for me?

I will grant you that I am a white woman. I certainly cannot say I know what it feels like to be the victim of the apparent rampant racism in our country. I want to say that it shocks me. I’m appalled to say that it doesn’t. We still have that lingering fear. What will happen if someone who doesn’t look like me gets to make decisions about my life? Guess what. People in the minority in this country have been living with that for years. And we, as a society, as a nation, stomp on their efforts to make their voices heard. It truly disgusts me. And we do this in the name of God? America? Our white culture? It makes little sense to me.

It is natural to be afraid of difference. Of change. We all are. I won’t put the sole burden of racism on white people. That would be absurdly unfair. All people of all colors in all nations all over the world are racist to some degree. Possibly, it stems from some kind of tribalism left over from thousands or hundreds of thousands of years ago when it was important to protect your own. But our global society is suffering because of our inability to put skin color behind us and see people for people. We all have two eyes, one nose, two lips, two arms, and two legs. Are we all different? Yes. But those differences don’t necessarily follow the lines of skin color. It’s possible that I have more in common with a woman from Southeastern Asia than with some of the white women in my own country, for example.

I’ve heard a lot of talk in the media lately about culture. Michael Savage, a man who frightens me to my very core, began talking about culture on his radio show one night. He cleverly used the words “same” and “equal” interchangeably. I understand that when I say, “X=1,” I mean that “X” and “1” are the same. But in the context in which Mr. Savage used the words, they are not synonymous. “All cultures are not the same.” I cannot dispute the validity of such a statement. What I can and do dispute is the statement, “All cultures are not equal.” Who decides that? You? Me? Michael Savage? Republican Congresswoman Michelle Bachman (who was recorded making the same statement)? I don’t know anyone who is qualified to make such an assertion. It is a dangerous notion and one that I cannot stomach.

In addition to racism, there have been many accusations of sexism during this election season. When Hillary Clinton was attempting to capture the Democratic nomination for president, she was attacked in some pretty vicious ways. She’s no stranger to this, of course, as she (and her daughter) withstood a fair amount of criticism while her husband was President of the United States. She’s a tough lady. I thought she held her own pretty well. Sarah Palin, however, did not. She publicly accused Hillary Clinton of “whining,” and said that she needed to “plow through it.” The tables, though, as they so often do, have turned. Not only has she changed her tune, now Sarah Palin is the one crying sexism. Her wardrobe (bought and paid for by the Republican party, McCain’s campaign, or provided by the tooth fairy) made front-page news. Is this fair?

I have to say that yes, this is fair. She didn’t make front-page news because she spent a lot of money on clothes. She made front-page news because in some capacity her clothes were provided for her in a way that the public might find a little shady. It’s true that McCain’s wardrobe isn’t scrutinized and no one cares how much he paid his makeup artist. That’s probably because presumably he paid for those things himself. If anyone should be accused of sexism it is McCain’s campaign, which was so concerned with the way Sarah Palin looked, it felt the need to spend over $150,000 to “fix her”.

While we’re on the topic, I think it should be expected that the media might be a little tougher on women who are vying for such high offices. We have yet to break into that arena, and we have to pay our dues. It would be insulting if the media coddled female candidates simply because they’re female. That encourages attitudes that are detrimental to women. Women are not the “weaker sex”. Women are people, just like men are people. Why shouldn’t we have to jump through some hoops? We can handle it because we’re tough.

The idea, thanks Brooke Hogan, that a woman wouldn’t be as capable as a man to run the country is absurd. It is absolutely possible that a female president might be more “emotional” than a male president. So what? Just out of curiosity, haven’t we gotten ourselves in this mess with over a hundred years of rich, white, male presidents? Why not take a chance on a woman?

Having said that, I think that Sarah Palin is the most unqualified candidate ever presented for the vice presidential office. I could do a better job.

Maybe.

Okay, maybe not. But my first statement still stands. She is a joke. She gives women everywhere a bad name. I am shocked at the things that have come out of her mouth. And frankly, in some respects, I think the media has been too kind to her.

I just read a blog, written by Wendy Buttons, former democrat and former speechwriter to John Edwards and Barack Obama. Let me correct that, former speech contributor, maybe. I doubt she was writing any speeches. Apparently the Democratic candidate for president has left a poor taste in her mouth. And John Edwards dismissed her. She got her feelings hurt, so she’s voting for John McCain and Sarah Palin. And I say go ahead. Her three-page article lists her grievances with the Democratic Party. It reads like a schoolgirl who was pushed by a boy on a playground.

She attended a party at John Edwards’s house, in which he asked her to come to his office, so they could talk about what was “coming up.” This was in 2006. She didn’t hear from him for a few weeks, and then received a letter telling her to (in her words) “go away.” She took this personally. She turned down other jobs because she put all her eggs in the basket of a politician. Personally, I would suggest she be smarter in the future.

She worked with the Obama campaign briefly in 2008, but felt she had to quit when Barack Obama began to “mock” Joe-the-Plumber. Really? She’s so offended that Obama fought back when someone tried to attack him and then became the unwitting face of the Republican campaign? Would you rather he say nothing to the constant references to Joe-the-Plumber spewed forth from McCain and Palin?

She was upset by the media’s treatment of female figures as well, particularly Sarah Palin. “Really, front-page news is how the Republican National Committee paid for Governor Sarah Palin’s wardrobe? Where’s the op-ed about how Obama tucks in his shirt when he plays basketball or how Senator Biden buttons the top button on his golf shirt?”

I realize that I may not be among America’s best and brightest, but it seems to me that these things she lists aren’t really related. Whether or not Obama tucks his shirt in while playing basketball or Biden buttons the top button on his golf shirts can’t really be put in the same category as a $150,000+ makeover for Sarah Palin.

Again, this is not about fashion or about Palin spending too much of her own money on clothes, as were the criticisms of John McCain’s expensive shoes or John Edwards’s $400 haircuts (See? It does happen to men too!). This is about campaign and/or Republican Party money that was spent to clothe Palin. If the media is sexist for bringing it up, McCain’s campaign is sexist for putting such importance on “pretty” in the first place.

Yes, there’s a double standard as far as appearances go. That’s the way it is. If you want to change it, I’ll be glad to support you, but don’t hang that on Barack Obama’s neck. I don’t think it’s his fault that media coverage is what it is. I believe that Americans are getting exactly what they’ve asked for on the news.

Buttons further goes on to say, “Here we are discussing Governor Palin’s clothes—oh wait, now we’re on to the make-up—not what either man is going to do to save our economy. This isn’t an accident. It is part of a manufactured narrative that she is stupid.”

I believe, and I could be wrong here, that Governor Palin is doing a fine job all on her own of making herself look stupid. The clothes purchased for her by the RNC have nothing to do with intelligence on her part. The fact that she has no idea which newspapers or magazines she reads reflects on her intelligence. Do I think that an inability to produce the name of a single magazine means she’s stupid? No. I think that she’s not ready to be in a position of leadership in this country if she can’t think on her feet. If only she had said, “Well, ya know Katie, I read Cosmo a lot!” I probably would have found her cute and funny. Still not suitable, but I would have had some respect for her sense of humor and her ability to think quickly.

I wonder if Wendy Button will be any happier as a Republican. My guess is that she will not. She got her feelings hurt and is stomping off to cry, but I don’t think she’ll like what she finds on the other side. The Republican Party is about to have a civil war. I shudder to think of what will become of that. We’ll just have to wait and see.

So what does it mean to me to be an American?

It means that I live in a country where freedom is valued over most other things.

I am free to speak my mind whenever I choose.

I am free to practice whatever religion I see fit, or none at all.

I am the overseer of my government.

I live in the land of the free, and the home of the brave, a melting pot of cultures and a world of opportunity for everyone.

I do not live in fear. I will not live in fear.

I stand up for what I believe in, and I have the right to protest decisions made by the government.

I hold my government accountable for its actions. This includes the leaders elected to represent me.

Those who wish to hold me down will not oppress me.

I stand up for the little guy.

I believe in my country and what it represents.

I vote.

I work.

I am educated.

I have more than most people in most other countries could ever wish to have.

I was born to succeed.

I live in the most powerful nation in the world, but I do not take that power for granted or use it to harm others.

I am independent, and I can be anything I choose.

I buy things I don’t need with little regard for how I will pay my bills.

I eat too much.

I drink too much.

I know more about who Paris Hilton is dating than I know about foreign policy (okay, not really. But it's true for so many people!).

I can surf the internet for hours at a time and never get bored.

I laugh when people fall down. As long as they’re not seriously injured. Sometimes even if they're seriously injured.

I love.

I live.

So what face can we put on America?

The truth is, we can put no one face on our country. We are American. That means we are white, we are black, we are Mexican and South American and Japanese and Russian and Indian and Pakistani. We are Christians and atheists and Catholics and Jews and Buddhists and yes, even Muslims. That is our America. We should be proud of it.

And yet we continue to oppress others. We continue in our racism. We are suspicious of all Muslim people because of the events of 9/11. No one can argue the horror and tragedy of that day, but I argue that it does not justify our actions of retaliation.

My America has become something else. I’m not sure where I live any more. Our leaders have failed us, our people foster and promote hate based on skin color and sexual preference, and we force our will on the world because we think we know best. Who are we? How do we distinguish ourselves from the terrorists we so fear?

America the Beautiful has tarnished her crown. And we are better than that. Protesting a war should not bring up a question of patriotism. Protesting the complete perversion of our civil liberties should not be considered “anti-America”. Wanting a change does not mean a lack of love for the country.

Thomas Jefferson once said, “When people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty.” Do we fear our government, or does it fear us? I’m not sure any more. Our president chose to start a war without the consent of Congress or the UN, much less the American people. Our government continues to prey on our fears to deprive us of our civil rights and to justify its actions in a war that few still support. Does that sound like fear to you?

Much has been made of Bill Ayers and The Weather Underground in this election cycle. But has anyone looked into why they chose to do what they did? I recently watched a documentary, The Weather Underground, which was fairly informative on the subject. Yes, they did bomb US buildings. Yes, innocent people were killed. And no, I don’t agree with the way they went about their protest. But, as John F. Kennedy said, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible make violent revolution inevitable.” The Weather Underground was a group of young students who passionately opposed the government’s actions in Vietnam, along with the oppression of black citizens of the US.

I think that it’s important that we take an important lesson from The Weather Underground. And that is this: If we become those we hate in order to protest those we hate, have we really accomplished anything? Protesting the killing of innocent people in Vietnam by killing innocent people in your own country is not a victory. And I believe that we have become a bit of what we hate in Iraq. We have become the extremists, fighting for what we believe. Killing in the name of our system and our morals. Are we any better than the terrorists who were involved in 9/11?

I’m sure if I were a politician, I would be held in contempt for my anti-American sentiment here. But it is not anti-American. I will not be accused of having less patriotism than the next person because I do not agree with all actions taken by my country. We are a nation of different people. We are divided by our politics and our cultures and our morals. It should not be unreasonable for anyone to feel dissent.

At the end of the day, I love my country and what it represents. We just need to be careful with the message we are sending to the world. Remember our founding fathers and know that even they were flawed. Even they were rich, old, white men who were racists and sexist, but who were trying to do the right thing. We have to find a way to unite, to find some common ground, so that we, too, can do the right thing.

I am proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m (sort of) free.

And today, we will possibly elect a black man to be our leader, for the first time.

He brings with him the hope for a better way, the excitement of change, and a new face to our White House.

I am counting on Barack Obama to restore the America that I read about in history class (where, let's face it, we never hear the whole story). I am counting on him to restore our freedom.