My first caucus

On Super Tuesday, 1.5 weeks ago, I attended my first-ever caucus. We moved to Colorado in 2009, one year after the last Democratic presidential primary. Colorado does closed caucuses (only registered members of the party can participate) and in non-presidential election years, I've always received a paper ballot in the mail for the primary, so this was my first-ever opportunity to participate.

A side note about caucuses and voting in general: I actually don't love the caucus concept as a political process, because I find the barrier to entry to be prohibitively high. It takes a lot longer than voting, first of all, and while you CAN bring kids with you, it did not appear to be a very pleasant experience to do so, which means that single parents or couples who both want to vote would need to either wrangle their kids in a hot, crowded, boring, slow-moving caucus for a couple hours or pay for childcare or... you know, not attend. Also, because everyone has to show up at once, the parking situation is completely insane. And, the whole speeches for candidates, everyone band together on various sides of the room and try to convince the uncommitted people to come to their side thing is just... I don't know, it seems like there's a lot of room for blurring lines, is all. The argument I keep hearing in favor of caucuses is that it means only the people who truly care and are involved in the political process make the decisions, which sounds nice until you think about it more and it starts to sound more like an argument to keep affluent white people in charge.

On the plus side, when we AREN'T having caucuses, Colorado does vote by mail, which is AMAZING... the ballot shows up a few weeks before the election, you fill it out, you put a stamp on it, you send it back, you're done. No waiting in line, no having to get time off work to go vote, no having to find a polling place. It's GREAT.

Anyway, back to my caucus experience. I personally did not suffer from the childcare issues I mentioned above, because Torsten is not a U.S. citizen and can't vote, so he stayed home with the kids while I attended the caucus. The caucus was held at a high school near enough to our house that I could walk there, thank goodness, because as aforementioned, holy traffic and parking issues, my goodness. The walk over felt sort of pleasantly neighborly--I encountered a neighbor waiting for another neighbor to walk over, and they invited me to join them, which I did, and then we gave directions to someone else who was trying to find the school, and everyone was sort of cheerful and chatty and it was lovely. (Also, there was only a Democratic caucus that day, so it wasn't like there were Sanders and Trump fans glaring at each other or anything.)

The caucus started at 7 and the precinct captain who canvassed our neighborhood told us to plan to arrive between 6:30 and 6:45. We walked in at about 6:40 and the place was PACKED. It was absolute chaos, standing room only, and totally nuts. The high school was the polling place for about 10 different precincts, and each precinct had its own sign-in table in the main hallway with a sign on the wall with the precinct number, but the hall was SO full and crowded that it was impossible to see the signs. There was also a huge line of people who didn't know their precinct number and were waiting to look it up, but thankfully our precinct captain had handed out little cards with our precinct number on them, so we were spared that hell. It took probably about 15 minutes of elbows-out neck-craning to figure out where our precinct check-in was, and then there was actually no line for it so we were able to sign in and head into the cafeteria very quickly. The worst part, though, was this woman in a wheelchair who needed to use the restroom, and it turned out that the restrooms were on the very far end of the hallway on the other side of the massive crowd, and there was just no possible way that she was going to be able to shove through all the people, so she had to just not use the restroom.

The crowd in the hallway to check in

Anyway, we got in the cafeteria, which was equally full of people and also very, very hot, and managed to find a place near a door that someone had propped open, so that helped. I was assuming that the voting itself would take place in the cafeteria, but that turned out not to be the case. A little bit after 7 they got started, even though tons of people were still checking in out in the hallway. Whoever was in charge, and I still don't know who that was, led the Pledge of Allegiance, and then two people split the duties of reading all the caucus rules out loud. Even though they had a microphone, the room was so loud and crowded that the people at the back couldn't hear at all, and kept yelling in annoyance for them to speak up. However, it turns out that you don't really need to hear what's being said at this time? It seemed very procedural. They were legit reading all the articles of the caucus law, including the actual article numbers like 4.a.1 or whatever, down to the full mailing address of where to send any protests to, and I get that they need to do that, but I personally didn't feel the need to actually be able to decipher what they were saying. Next time, I think, I will come by 7, check in, and then hang out in the hallway until the first part is done and it's time to break down by precinct.

A corner of the crowd in the cafeteria

Anyway, so, they read all the rules and then people had an opportunity to make speeches in favor of candidates, which a bunch of people did--not for presidential candidates but for the local stuff that was also happening that night (state senator, district attorney, and university regent). It was interesting to hear the speeches but I had no real idea who to vote for in those races, and the speeches didn't help with that because of course they just all made everyone sound great, but they were only a minute long apiece and didn't get very into the weeds.

After about half an hour, they read out the classroom numbers that each precinct was assigned to, and we all went off to find our rooms. My precinct was in a science lab and we all sat in those little chairs with desks attached to them. There were about 60 people there and our precinct captain for Hillary was there, but there was no precinct captain for Bernie, which evidently there was supposed to be, because the Hillary precinct captain only had the paperwork for Hillary, so while a Bernie supporter volunteered to be the precinct captain, it took some time to hunt down someone at the caucus who had the appropriate paperwork.

So, the precinct captain had us split up in a straw poll, Hillary supporters on the left side of the room, Bernie supporters on the right, and uncommitted at the back. It was about a 2:1 split Hillary:Bernie, with two people going to the back to say they were uncommitted, which opened the opportunity for people to make little speeches in favor of their candidates to try to sway the uncommitted people. A few people did that for each side, actually pretty interesting and quite civil, and then the uncommitted people asked how Bernie was going to fund his proposed policies, nobody could give a satisfactory answer, and they both went over to the Hillary side. (I actually suspect that they were Hillary supporters the whole time and were trying to make a point). Then we did a final vote, and the captains for each candidate counted, and a second person counted behind them to confirm, and then they filled out all the paperwork and our precinct awarded two county delegates for Hillary and one for Bernie. Then we selected who actually wanted to BE those delegates, including alternate delegates, and attend the county convention (which is evidently scheduled for the Saturday night right before Easter? Which is also spring break for Denver public schools? Which seems like a puzzling choice, but whatever). Only a few people volunteered, so everyone who volunteered was selected. The whole presidential piece took about half an hour, maybe a little longer, and our precinct captain commented that it had been very efficient and we had made record time.

At this point things started to go off the rails. The presidential vote was done and the paperwork filed, and that all went smoothly, but we were still supposed to deal with the state and local questions, but there wasn't really anyone running the show. The Hillary precinct captain who had been managing things thus far had only been trained on the presidential piece, and the Bernie precinct captain had only just become precinct captain half an hour prior and wasn't trained at all. The Hillary precinct captain sort of took over and did her best, but it was very confusing, and I never fully figured out the rights of it. Basically, there were candidates for each of the three positions that people had made speeches about in the cafeteria earlier, but apparently we were supposed to just pick one set of local delegates who would vote for all three positions? But also, most people weren't very familiar with the candidates for each position and didn't have strong opinions, and somehow it seemed that we were supposed to vote for district attorney candidates as a proxy for selecting delegates, and the state senator and university regent positions did not get voted on, even though the delegates would be voting for those people too? Which was puzzling, especially because of the three positions, the only one I had any opinion on at all was state senator, but we did not take a vote on state senator. And it wasn't like people were running as a bloc, where if you picked a certain DA candidate you were also voting for a particular senator and regent candidate, so basically it was just all really confusing. Finally, a couple people who were aware of the races gave speeches in favor of various DA candidates, which were a little more useful than the ones in the cafeteria because they talked about some of the actual issues and stances like who had taken a stance against the death penalty and promised not to pursue it, etc., and we all voted, and then somehow we picked some delegates and I guess those people are just going to go to the county convention and vote for whoever they want for state senator and university regent? I'm still confused about this.

After that, which took about another half an hour, the precinct captain said she was pretty sure that we were done and could go (though really, you can leave a caucus at any time, you're not required to stay or anything, but you only get to vote for things you're actually present for, so you can't, like, show up, sign in, tell someone your preferred presidential candidate, and leave again before the vote if you want your vote actually counted), but she went off to check with the people running the caucus to be sure, and while she was gone one of the people who was originally uncommitted raised his hand to propose a resolution eliminating superdelegates, and then someone else was like, this isn't the place for that, and then they started having a (civil) argument about whether it was or not, and apparently it is? In that you can raise a resolution for anything at all at a caucus and try to get it passed, and the idea is that that's how regular people get involved in the political process? Which is all good and well, but frankly I'm guessing that a random dude wearing a cowboy hat at a high school in Denver isn't going to be the impetus for eliminating superdelegates, and it was hot and I was feeling maxed out, so I left, along with the two neighbors I had walked in with, and we all walked home together. I got home at about 8:45, so altogether, including walking time, I was gone for a little over two hours.

Altogether, I would say the experience was equal parts fascinating and tedious, but I know that Colorado has tossed around the idea of replacing our caucuses with regular primaries (and I believe, though I'm not sure, that the reason they didn't do that this year was something to do with scheduling--the caucus could be earlier in the year than a primary would be allowed to be--and they wanted to maintain their national relevance, so they kept it). But I have to say, I do really hope that they move to a regular primary system in the future, because it is both easier and more accessible for all voters. Still, I'm glad I had a chance to attend a caucus at least once, if only for the experience.

Postmortem bullets

• I don't have a whole lot to say today. I'm tired and thrilled after last night's election. But I know a lot of people aren't, and while I feel very strongly that some very important issues made significant progress last night, I am hopeful that maybe we will see more political cooperation in the next four years. Beyond that, I'm not interested in rubbing salt in anyone's wounds right now.
• There are two days left to enter my Tiny Prints giveaway, so click over and leave a comment if you haven't already.
• Today is Torsten's birthday. He is 35 and not happy about it. But I'm hoping to make it a nice day for him anyway. Happy birthday to my amazing husband. I think it's going to be another fantastic year.

How do I decide how to vote?

Despite the fact that this post is about voting, I swear it isn't actually going to be about politics. It really is procedural. Because voting is really HARD. And I don't mean the actual act of voting (especially because Colorado allows mail-in voting). I mean deciding what and who to vote for.

Some of the decisions are really obvious. President, for example. My vote there is quite decided (and has been for awhile). Representative too (I adore Diana DeGette). Colorado doesn't have a Senate race this year, but in years past I've been quite informed about those elections as well, and certain about my preferred candidate.

It's the smaller races that make it so difficult. The local elections, and the amendments. And specifically, the judges. There are SO MANY judges. And they aren't competing against each other! The question on the ballot is just whether they should be retained. A separate question for each judge, approximately 17 million questions in total. (OK, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But it's a lot!)

The amendments are the most difficult. The city of Denver does this awesome thing (do other cities do this too? I don't recall receiving anything like this when I was registered to vote in DC or in North Carolina) where they send out a booklet summarizing all the local ballot initiatives, what they're proposing, and the comments for and against them. Sometimes I can read the comments and tell where I fall on an issue (for example, there's a question about campaign finance reform on this year's ballot and phew, I could tell where I fall between arguments about corporate influence and arguments about money being the equivalent of free speech). But some of them are much harder to parse, because I don't know the context. And, the Denver booklet only addresses the pros and cons of local ballot initiatives, not statewide, so I'm on my own for the state amendments anyway.

And sometimes it's a question of more than just whether I generally agree with an issue: it's about the details of the proposal. For example, there's a ballot measure about legalizing marijuana this year. Generally speaking, I think it's silly for marijuana to be illegal, and I think the state could really do with the tax revenue. But do I understand the issue deeply enough to be able to read the amendment and figure out if I think the proposed approach is the right way to deal with this issue? No. The Denver Post helps by publishing editorials on most of the topics, but I don't fully trust the Denver Post, since I don't often agree with its political endorsements, particularly at the local level (I'm still really annoyed over their endorsements in last year's school board race). And I have yet to find a comprehensive local organization with which I share most or all of my political stances. So I end up having to cobble together a ton of research from a million different sources and often STILL don't really know how I feel about an issue.

It just seems crazy, you know? I am an educated, politically engaged voter, with clear stances on most issues and the desire and ability to do a lot of research. I think I am a pretty good example of an informed voter. And yet, the more I inform myself, the less informed I feel. And given that a lot of voters are not known for being super informed, I wonder how everyone else is making their decisions. Do they all know something I don't? Am I not tapped in enough to the political process? Why does it take me hours and hours of agonizing research and analysis to even start to come to a decision about over half the questions on my ballot? And, given the huge effort required for me to cast an informed vote, how helpful are these votes to begin with? What does the outcome mean? Do we really think every voter spent the time required to really understand the issues and stances and proposals on the ballot and cast an informed vote based on that understanding? Or are most people's votes based on bias and incomplete information? I mean, I'm doing tons of research and I still feel like my ballot is a hodge-podge of partisan half-understandings.

And the judges! Can someone please explain to me what I'm supposed to do about the judges? The thing that drives me the craziest is that they're basically impossible to research, because there is very little information available about them. So what is supposed to happen? Am I supposed to quickly Google their names to ensure there isn't some sort of major scandal or concern making the news about them, and assuming not, vote to retain them? Am I supposed to dig up information on all of them, and if so, where and how? Am I supposed to just assume that they're all fine and vote to retain them because I don't want to put someone out of a job? If this is what people mean when they talk about how important it is that judges are elected, I'm not impressed. I don't see how the vote to retain these judges could possibly be meaningful in any way. But maybe I'm totally misunderstanding how it's supposed to work.

But one way or another, it's going to take me from now until Election Day to figure out how I'm going to vote.

Pizzle (yes, I went there)

Oh, you guys. Last night I somehow got into an extensive Twitter conversation about bully sticks (don't click that link if you're faint-hearted, or maybe have a super uptight workplace), and I STILL haven't recovered. I died about eight times during that conversation. In case you're wondering, yes, Montana eats them regularly, and yes, they are super expensive but less so at Costco, and yes, it's a gross concept but in practice it's just like a rawhide bone, and dammit, they're healthy! 80% protein and no other ingredients! Also, what do you think wild animals do? Eat the tasty cuts of meat off their kills and leave the unsavory bits with cultural taboos to rot? I'M JUST SAYING.

(OMG. That conversation. It went from bully sticks to protein to dehydration to old neighbors to cost-effectiveness to lobsters and eggs. It was a perfect illustration of the genius of Twitter. I love Twitter so much. And it was totally my savior during my accidental blogging hiatus.)

Unrelatedly, our household was felled by a stomach bug over the weekend, and OH GOD. We all had one of these last year, and both times we got them in the same order: first Callum, then Torsten, then me. Thank goodness this one wasn't nearly as crippling as the last one, but it was still extremely unpleasant. Also, I think being the last one to get sick is unfair. While I'm still healthy, I have to cater on the other two, all the while KNOWING that the bug is coming for me next and not being able to do anything to stop it. UGH. Luckily it passed quickly, but while I was lying in bed wishing for death I was thinking: this is the thing you don't expect when you have kids! They bring evil stomach bugs into the house on a regular basis! Shouldn't I be immune to all this crap by now? APPARENTLY NOT. We need a stomach bug vaccine! STAT.

Since apparently this post is just going to be a disconnected assortment of thoughts that should probably be turned into some sort of bulleted list that I can't be bothered with: there are TONS of Romney yard signs cropping up on our street, and on the other streets in our neighborhood. So many of them popped up simultaneously that I'm wondering if some sort of Romney canvasser rang doorbells and handed them out for free. I have yet to see a single Obama sign in the neighborhood, even though our next-door neighbor told us that it was a pretty even mix back in 2008. We ordered an Obama sign a couple weeks ago, but it's not here yet. I can only hope that the delay is because they're so backed up with orders, but seriously, I want my sign! (Also, hopefully the delay isn't because some Romney supporter stole the package off our porch.) (Also, Five Thirty Eight is saving my sanity on a regular basis right now.)

But I shouldn't complain about the Romney signs, really, because I love living in a swing state and feeling like my vote matters. If only Torsten could vote! Maybe someday...

(Also, did you hear about Romney's comment about how plane windows should roll down? I know it was off the cuff, but it's kind of a stunning comment. I mean, everyone knows why plane windows don't roll down. Plus, in addition to the whole suction and lack of oxygen issues, I love that the comment suggests that what you want to put out a fire is MORE OXYGEN.)

OK, snark over. To restore balance to any potential Romney supporters who might be reading this (though really, my reaction would be the same, or possibly more upset, if Obama had said such a thing), here is a picture of my child in the bath last night:



He spent the entire bath doing this (aside from the quick break he took to throw his giant tugboat full of water out of the tub and onto the floor). Even though I hustled him out quickly once I saw what his activity of choice was going to be, it still took many towels to mop up the flood. It's a good thing he's so cute.

Politi-baby

Today is my birthday... and it also happens to be the birthday of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act!

This particular piece of legislation is very near and dear to my heart. So, in honor of the occasion, I present to you:

Oily

Did you read that BP's Gulf-specific disaster response plan, submitted to and approved by the government last year, was flawed and full of serious errors? Like listing experts and advisors who are dead or whose numbers are disconnected, vastly underestimating the impact of a spill, even one ten times the size of the one we're currently dealing with, and including contingency plans for wildlife that don't live in the Gulf, implying that it was lifted from an Alaska-based response plan?

It is just one more horrifying thing in a list of horrifying things that are not even adequately described by the word "horrifying," because in fact they are incomprehensible. And yes, I do believe that BP should shoulder the blame for, and the cost of, this mess, but that doesn't mean we didn't all play a part in setting up a situation where something like this could happen.

We are all responsible. But some more than others.

And don't even get me started on Sarah Palin's disgusting, twisted, perverted, insane comments about how if we drilled in the Alaska Natural Wildlife Refuge like she suggested, this never would have happened. Which, of course, conveniently ignores the fact that the whole "drill, baby, drill" chant was also about offshore drilling.

Why won't this woman just go away? Though, of course, I'd take having to listen to her and her inane comments any day if the oil spill would go away instead.

Weird doctor stuff

The other day, we got a letter in the mail from our old doctor in DC. (As an aside, I have no idea how he got our mailing address and it is driving me a little crazy trying to figure it out.)

ANYWAY, apparently this doctor is switching to membership-based care through some third-party company? Since we aren't his patients anymore I didn't read THAT closely, but he seems to have formed some sort of partnership with a third-party company that provides software solutions to allow patients to email the doctor directly, etc. Apparently, this system will allow him to provide a better standard of care without working quite such long hours.

All good and well, right? Except apparently to become a "member" you have to pay a modest monthly fee. And by "modest" he means $45 a month, IF you act fast and become a "charter member."

So, that's $540 per year, per person, for the privilege of being able to continue to see your doctor. It doesn't include the actual health care, or co-pays, that you pay for. It's basically an annual fee to keep the doctor on retainer. AND the fee will go up if you don't join right away. And the price is only guaranteed for two years and I assume that after that it will increase just like every other health care cost.

ALSO, the letter that he sent out, which to be fair he did not draft (it was from the membership software company) but which he still clearly approved and disseminated, said something about, "With the increasing threat of government-run health care..." and OH did that piss me off. I mean, I understand that not everyone supports health care reform (though I would think most doctors would as they don't like being beholden to the insurance companies' whims any more than the rest of us).

But why do you have to get political in your letter that's ALREADY informing your patients that you're about to demand MORE of their money? Why do you have to say anything at all? There's a time and a place, you know? And the last thing I want to hear when I find out that my doctor is demanding many hundreds more of my dollars is that I also disagree with his politics.

My point is, here's another reason I'm glad we don't live in DC anymore. Because we liked this guy a lot, as a doctor and as a person, but if we were still living there, after this, we'd have to change doctors.

So, is this membership thing for doctors becoming a more common phenomenon? Have any of YOU been asked to "join" your doctor's office for the privilege of continuing to receive medical care from them?

Not valid

Here is what frustrates me about American politics: everyone feels the need to respect every point of view and every belief that is presented. Even if the points of view are bigoted and discriminatory, and the beliefs are scientifically proven to be inaccurate.

This is where I feel that we've taken the whole "freedom of speech" thing too far.

The media gets accused of bias all the time, from all different sources. And the result of that is a skewed idea of what is "balanced coverage." Balanced coverage now seems to mean taking everybody seriously, no matter how ludicrous the things that they are saying.

And if you DON'T take someone seriously when they, for example, compare marrying someone of the same sex to marrying a horse, or say that they don't believe in interracial relationships, or announce that poor people deserve to be poor--well, then you get reamed for being intolerant and narrow-minded. For not being open to all opinions.

Well, here's what: Some things just aren't open to opinion. It is not a valid opinion to believe that other people aren't deserving of equal rights because they have some characteristic, or set of characteristics, that you don't like. It is not a valid opinion to believe that poor people who are dying of treatable diseases don't deserve to be treated because it is somehow their own fault that they are sick or poor.

I wish that we could all move beyond this incredible need to be politically correct, and this insane definition of political correctness that seems to say that we all need to be open to listening to ridiculous extremists.

It's not that I'm saying that people shouldn't have a RIGHT to say what they want, even if what they're saying is bigoted and uninformed. The fact that people are allowed to say those things is what I think is good about free speech. But I don't think that the rest of us should have to take that bigoted speech seriously. I just think that we're all so focused on free speech as a concept that we forget the difference between "people can say what they want" and "everything that everyone says has value and merit."

It is hard to get accurate information, and engage in intelligent conversation, when misinformation and personal beliefs are given the same weight and deference as actual facts and analysis.

I'm sick of it. I'm sick of everyone bending over backward to please fringe groups. I'm sick of everyone saying that we all have to be open to all sides and that if we aren't, then we aren't having a fair debate.

I'm open to debate with people who disagree with me--as long as their opinions are based in fact. I am not open to debate with people whose opinions are based in skewed belief systems that tell them that it's OK to treat certain groups of people as second-class citizens, because I do not believe that they can participate in a reasonable, productive discussion.

Period. End of story.

Our whole basis in the idea of limited government, and freedom of speech, and lots of individual rights, has been taken to an extreme where people think that it's OK to say or do whatever the hell they want, all in the name of the U.S. being a "free country." Even when that speech includes not allowing the president of the U.S. (the PRESIDENT. Of the COUNTRY.) to speak to American children about the importance of education. Even when that speech includes saying hateful, uninformed things about other people based on inaccurate beliefs.

How did we get here? Why do we have no more belief in the common good? Why are we so insistent on the rights of the individual to spew hatred and call it a valid opinion? Why do so many people think this is OK?

Because it isn't OK. Not at all.

Prop 8 Decision Day

I don't often get political on my blog (although I do venture there sometimes). But I feel very strongly that what I'm about to talk about transcends politics.

Today, the California Supreme Court will announce its decision on whether or not to uphold Proposition 8.

I try to be tolerant of people whose views differ from mine. In most cases, I succeed. But when it comes to gay marriage, I fall a bit short of that goal.

I cannot think of one single justifiable reason to prevent two consenting adults who wish to marry each other from doing so. I have heard all the arguments against gay marriage, and for me, none of them holds water. I am not going to start rehashing the entire debate, because I'm sure all of you are familiar with the arguments on both side. But to put it succinctly, same-sex couples getting married has no negative impact on anybody else in society. The only argument against gay marriage is founded in religion, homophobia, or both--and it's our government's job to separate religion and state, and to protect those who are undue targets of prejudice.

I truly hope and believe that one day our children will look back on the history of gay marriage the same way that we look back on the history of interracial marriage--with shock and disbelief that it was ever not allowed, that our government ever deliberately denied a group of people such a basic right.

And it is a basic right. Marriage offers several tangible benefits that are denied to those who are not legally wed. Parents and partners who have had to deal with an ill partner can attest to the difficulties faced when trying to make decisions or visit a sick family member in the hospital.

And there's the way that marriage has affected me most, personally--immigration. Now that Torsten and I are married, he can have a green card, which means that he is guaranteed the right to live and work in the US, with me, as long as he doesn't commit a crime of moral turpitude (murder or rape, basically). I cannot tell you how much peace of mind this brings both of us. I cannot tell you how happy we are to know that we always have the right to stay together, live together, support ourselves and our families in this country.

I cannot believe that other loving couples are denied this privilege. I cannot believe that caring, stable, productive citizens are forced out of this country in order to live their lives with those they love. I cannot believe that the people who oppose extending the right to marry to all those consenting adults who wish to partake in it--using personal reasons that have no legal bearing--are the ones who are supported by our government at this time.

I don't think this is a political issue. This is an issue that affects the lives and freedoms of an important, ostracized minority within our country. It is our government's job to protect that minority, and so far they have failed to do so. This is not a matter of opinion. Any individual's personal opinion about homosexuality should not be given any weight whatsoever when it comes to the legal decision about whether or not to extend equal rights to all citizens.

Of course, even if California does overturn Prop 8, it's only another tiny step--and the immigration benefits that I talked about won't be offered to same-sex couples until the day that the federal government starts to recognize same-sex marriage. But a series of tiny steps can turn into a big sprint, a big breakthrough. And all those couples who are married in California, or who wish to be, deserve to be allowed the same opportunity that heterosexual couples are offered.

I can sort of, tragically, understand why Prop 8 passed--because it essentially asked individual voters to offer their opinions about homosexuality, and what rights should be extended to same-sex couples, and unfortunately the majority of voters in California held prejudiced opinions.

But I see no excuse for the Supreme Court of California, the governing body, to uphold this law. I see no explanation for how it can possibly be constitutional to systematically deny rights to a group of people based on their sexuality. I don't care if 52% of California voters believe that gay people will burn in hell--it is not the government's place to judge that. It is the government's place to protect the minority from the tyranny of the majority.

And I hope with all my heart that the Supreme Court announces the just decision today, and allows all California residents--all equally deserving citizens--the right to a stable marriage.

Inauguration impressions, in photos

You guys, first of all, I so, so, so want to share my news, but I CAN'T. Not yet. And it is KILLING me. Seriously. But I swear, I will tell you (and pick a contest winner) as soon as I can. Hopefully this week. I WILL keep you posted. In the meantime I feel like I'm in a holding pattern because I have so much I want to talk about and I CAN'T.

But I do have a post up elsewhere today--over at Work It, Mom's Problem Solved blog, I'm giving out wedding planning tips. Because if there's anything I'm an expert on, that's it. Right?

And over here, let's talk about something fluffy! How awesome was Michelle Obama's ball gown last night? For those of you who missed it, here's a photo:


Seriously, perfect, and designed by Jason Wu, who is only 26 years old. Unbelievable.

I didn't watch the inauguration coverage all day yesterday, but I did watch the swearing in and a bit of the balls, and can I just say how amazing it is to have such a young, energetic family in the White House? Those girls are beyond adorable, and Barack and Michelle actually dance together. It's just a whole different vibe, because really, can you picture George and Laura doing this in front of the White House, or anywhere for that matter?


I'm just saying.

There were so many other adorable and touching moments during the day, and really pictures just say it best.

Sasha and Malia are just unspeakably cute:


I thought the way the Bidens and the Obamas escorted the Bushes to their helicopter and waved goodbye was incredibly classy and dignified:


But really, what gets to me most is the way Barack and Michelle interact. There is just so much love and respect evident between them. I have that with Torsten, and I love that our president has that too and is so willing to show it and set an example of a positive, equal marriage for everyone to see.

I mean, just look at them together:



So, what stood out for you about the inauguration?

President Obama

This inauguration gives me goosebumps. I'm in the same city as all these people, hiding from the crowd and the cold in my nice warm apartment, but just watching it on TV is amazing. The concert on Sunday was inspiring. Obama himself is inspiring. I know I am not alone in saying that I have high hopes for this country and this presidency.

I know Michelle Obama took a lot of heat for saying that for the first time in her adult life, she's proud to be an American, but I'm going to stand up there with her and say I feel the same way. Not that I'm not happy to be American, or that I don't have faith in what America can be, but for the last eight years, which comprise my entire adult life, our country has been going in a direction that I have not been proud of. And now I believe that we as a country, including our leadership, are going to try our best to do the best that we can. And I believe that the international community sees it that way as well.

When I watched that concert and Pete Seeger leading the crowd in singing This Land Is Your Land, for the first time that I can remember I felt truly patriotic. I felt that this country is a good, well-meaning place that will strive to be a positive force in the world. I felt that there is nowhere I would rather be and no country that I would rather be a part of. I haven't felt that way in a very long time.

I leave you with this:




Obama, welcome to the presidency. We are so glad you're here.

Affordable housing doesn't exist.

This economy thing is obviously big on everyone's minds. And I have to say that I don't know everything about it, and I certainly don't know how to fix it. I don't know all the causes of it. I know that banks were getting artificially high ratings that caused misplaced faith in them, and that there was too much lending to people who couldn't afford to pay back the loans, and that there was corruption and greed and high-level executives who knew they were living on the edge but didn't care because they personally were making money hand over fist, enough to live a life of luxury well after their house of cards blew up in their faces and they got fired.

But there is one side effect of all this mess that is a good thing. Of course, I am in the position of not currently owning a home, which means that I have the luxury of saying this. But house prices NEED to go down. Affordable housing doesn't exist anymore, and that needs to change. It is unacceptable that unless you want to live in the middle of nowhere, two hours from the nearest city and likely much further than that from the nearest ocean, you are going to wind up paying way more than you can afford for your house. A nice home shouldn't be a luxury reserved for the wealthy. It should be something that we all have access to.

I don't mean that the deflation of house prices is a pleasurable or even endurable process for many people. It's terrible for homeowners who suddenly owe more on their loans than their houses are even worth. It's also terrible for first-time buyers who suddenly can't get a mortgage even with a decent credit rating and a reasonable down payment. It's terrible for all of us, nobody more so than the people who can't afford to stay in their homes and also can't afford to move.

And it sucks that the economy is going down with the house prices. It sucks that there has been corruption and greed and that wealth is so unevenly distributed. It sucks that there's nothing fair about what's happening. It sucks that so many of us can't even afford to heat our homes right now.

But houses just plain cost too much. It's unreasonable to expect somebody to pay $400,000 for a nice house in a mid-sized city. It's unreasonable to expect somebody to pay seven figures for a nice house in a big city. It's unreasonable that $100,000 can buy you little more than a shack on the outskirts of town or a tiny condo that can't hold your family and is run by a slumlord. These are insane sums of money we're talking about. They are sums of money that almost nobody in this country can afford. And then we wonder why our national debt is equal to our annual GDP, and why people aren't able to make their mortgage payments.

A system that puts up such barriers to reasonable housing costs had to die eventually. Of course people are taking on loans that they couldn't afford to pay back. With a crappy job market, moving to a place where real estate is affordable means moving to a place where there are very few employment opportunities. This gives people who need a job the choice between living very far outside the city where they work, creating prohibitively high transportation costs and drastically reducing their quality of life and the amount of time they get to spend with their families, or paying through the nose for a livable house in a safe neighborhood that is somewhat close to work. Neither of these options is appealing. But lenders were willing to take the risk of giving large loans to people who couldn't afford it, so people made the choice to take the more expensive houses, and thus prices kept going up and up, and the whole thing was a vicious cycle.

And now that cycle is starting to break, which means our economy sucks, and it's looking like it may not get better for awhile. I'm not looking forward to that any more than the rest of you. But I do look forward to coming out the other side--and we WILL come out the other side, and even sooner if people can avoid having panicky reactions to the current situation and withdrawing their money from banks and stocks.

Because on the other side I see housing that people can afford. Maybe not giant mansions in the middle of downtown. But something reasonable, where everyone in a family can live comfortably. Everyone deserves a decent home, and we need to get back to a situation where that is a possibility for most people. It just sucks that our economy has to be dragged down along the way.

In which I finally get political.

I don't usually talk about politics on my blog. I've mentioned that I support Obama, but that's about the extent of it. I know that politics is personal and people are sensitive about their political beliefs, and I don't want people or readers to feel alienated. I recognize that what I'm about to say is something that not everyone will agree with, and I want everyone to feel free to express their opinions in the comments. I hope that nobody will feel so alienated by what I'm going to say that they will feel that they can't continue reading my blog because of our difference of political opinion. But if people do feel that way, that's fine. What I'm going to talk about is more important.

I don't like John McCain's politics, and I really don't like Sarah Palin's politics. This has nothing to do with McCain's POW experiences, or Palin's pregnant daughter, or the fact that McCain's choice of Palin as VP was a clear case of cynical political pandering.

No. Plain and simple, I think they are wrong about the best way to lead this country forward. And the thing that makes me the angriest is that I think they know they're wrong. They know that their policy plans won't do the most good for the most people, and they don't care. They are about making policies that serve their particular constituencies, and then coming up with a bunch of justifications and platitudes about why everyone else doesn't matter. It's not like Palin didn't know that her speech was full of lies and hyperbole. How can you believe that what you're doing is right when you have to stretch and spin the truth just to sound convincing? How can you believe that you deserve to be in office if you know that you have to lie to the public to get them to elect you?

This argument about small government is bullshit. A truly small government might not provide social services for its worst-off citizens. It might not put gun control laws into effect. But it also wouldn't tell people who could and could not get married. It wouldn't start unnecessary wars and refuse to educate people about sexual health. It wouldn't try to teach the religious philosophy of creationism in public schools. It wouldn't attempt to ban books from public libraries.

So let's get this straight. Democrats don't really believe in small government, but neither do Republicans. Nobody who runs for office really believes in small government. They want to get involved in government because they want to make a difference, and they believe that the government can make a difference.

And I don't believe in small government, either. Not the way Republicans define it. I don't support Big Brother and paternalistic leadership, but I do believe that government is necessary to the smooth functioning of society, and that there are things governments can do to help make life easier for everyone. I also believe that it's totally fine to place a slightly higher burden on the best-off people in our society in order to provide a boost to the worst-off people.

John McCain claims that Obama wants to raise taxes for middle class people, exactly the ones who are suffering from the current economic downturn. In reality, Obama's tax plan would increase the middle class's take-home income by 5%, whereas McCain's would increase their income by only 3%. Obama's plan would raise taxes--but only for the people who can afford it, namely wealthy companies.

Sarah Palin sued the Bush administration over its decision to add polar bears to the list of endangered species because she was afraid it would interfere with oil drilling. She doesn't believe that humans have caused climate change. She wants to teach creationism in public schools. She wants to prohibit abortion, even cases of rape or incest. She's a proponent of banning books from public libraries. She made fun of Obama's community organizing experience as though it's a negative thing that he was working to get ordinary people involved in politics--because to her it is.

McCain and Palin have blind faith that the market will solve for everything. I believe that they are wrong. The people who believe that the market solves for everything are exactly those who have benefited from it. And not everybody has. There are so many people who don't have insurance, who can't afford healthcare, who work crappy jobs or can't get a job at all, who can't afford housing in a safe neighborhood, who can hardly make it through the day. Those are the people who get lost in the system, the ones for whom the market doesn't solve.

I am actually, literally scared of the idea of the U.S. as run by McCain and Palin. I don't think our country can take four more years of this. Certainly those people who are at the bottom of the pyramid can't. And the question is whether those at the top will notice. If McCain and Palin win, I see no evidence that they will. The rich will keep getting richer, the poor will keep getting poorer, and the rest of the world will grow more and more disenchanted with this country.

Read this (and this). Read this. Read this. And read this.

The rest of the world can't believe that the McCain-Palin ticket could win. Maybe, for once, we should take our cue from them instead of trying to force them to do as we do. Spin, exaggeration, and charisma shouldn't be enough to win an election. The strange idea that disagreeing with someone is just evidence of your political bias, rather than evidence that you have convictions about how great our country can be for all of its residents, should not be used as an excuse not to engage on the issues and really discuss what policy stances will be best for our country as a whole.

I can believe McCain and Palin could win this election. But I'm really hoping I don't have to.

Two voices, one vote

We voted this morning. Well, I voted. Torsten is not a US citizen and therefore does not get to vote. But he came with me to the polling station, waited in line with me while I checked in, and politely stood to the side while I cast my ballot. In case I secretly voted for Hillary without telling him? I'm not sure. I guess he did it on the same principle that causes me to look totally in the opposite direction if someone is typing their PIN. Just to make sure they don't think I'm trying to steal it, even though they know full well that I'm not.

Anyway, Torsten and I both support Obama, so I consider my vote to be cast on behalf of both of us. And if you live in DC, Maryland, or Virginia, today is the day, so go cast your vote. Especially if you're going to vote for Obama. Just kidding. Sort of.

In other news, remember how I posted yesterday about how I ordered wedding stamps? Well, last night I saw this article about how postage is going up 1 cent in May. Half the stamps that I ordered will still be good for sending out the save-the-dates, because those are going out before May. The other half will require the addition of a 1-cent stamp. And all I can say is that they had better introduce a purple 1-cent stamp, QUICK. Because I do not want to blemish our RSVP envelopes with these hideous green, lamp-adorned stamps. Oh, I am bitter about this.

Also, I've learned something about Torsten recently: when he's in pain, he gets all panicky and generally acts like a paranoid hypochondriac. It is tempting, therefore, to be dismissive of his panic. However, when he acts like that, there is always something wrong. Yesterday was no exception. He had a mild toothache over the weekend and by Sunday night was all freaking out and unable to sleep, partly because of the pain but also because he was so worried.

I, being the bad fiancée that I am, told him he probably had a cavity or something and should just make a dentist appointment and not worry about it. Of course, it turns out that he has a strong distaste for dentists ever since his old dentist in Germany inadvertently drilled into his nerve without anesthesia. So he spent a couple of hours obsessively researching dentists online and finally managed to find one that was a) highly recommended, b) across the street from his office, and c) covered under his dental insurance plan. Let me tell you, finding all three of those things in one dentist? Nothing short of a miracle. Especially given Torsten's very high standards.

Anyway, so he went to the dentist yesterday, and wound up having a root canal on the spot. I did not even know what a root canal entailed until yesterday, and believe me, I wish I still didn't know. It sounds absolutely horrible. Apparently it wasn't as bad as it sounds, but still. Ugh. Just thinking about it makes me shudder. And he'll have to go back next week to have the root canal finished, and then again to have a crown put on.

And also? We're lucky in that both of us have dental insurance. But even with? The root canal is covered at 80%, and the crown is covered at only 50%, and apparently crowns are very expensive, like possibly $1,000 or more. And he has a $1,500 annual maximum, and he's already used about half of that on x-rays and the root canal. My question is, why couldn't this have happened a month and a half ago so he could have had half the work done in 2007 and saved some of his annual maximum for this year? Now we just have to hope that he doesn't need any dental work for the rest of the year.

Now, just to re-emphasize: DC, Maryland, and Virginia readers, go vote!

I don't get it.

Watching all the news coverage of the New Hampshire primaries has been driving me crazy over the past week. First of all, I'm pretty sure I can't sustain this level of coverage for the next ten months. I realize once the nominees are selected, it will quiet down for a little while--but not that much, since then there will be that pesky general election to deal with.

Anyway, what's been particularly bothering me recently is all the coverage of Hillary Clinton and the heavy emphasis on the fact that she's a woman. People say she's too serious, she needs to soften up, those tears on Monday were just an attempt to feminize herself, it's good she's started dressing in bright colours, etc.

Okay. First of all, it bothers me that the fact that she's a woman is being harped on so incredibly much, but I can understand it, since every candidate has that--Obama with being black, Romney with being Mormon, etc. Anything that makes you stand out gets discussed. Fine.

But what's pissing me off is the intense discussion of why Hillary wasn't winning the women's vote. On Monday night, CNN had a reporter talking about how young women today don't remember a time before the women's movement, so they don't understand the urgency of electing a woman to office. The reporter went on and on about how a lot of people just don't believe that a woman can be president--and some of those people are women.

Here's the issue. I like Hillary fine. I like Obama a little better. But for me, it isn't a question of the gender of either candidate. Whether the candidate is a man or a woman isn't a voting issue for me. I guess I would say that if there were two candidates who were literally identical in every way except that one is a man and the other is a woman, I would use gender as the deciding factor and vote for the woman. But given that no such scenario exists in real life, I don't care about the gender of the candidates, I care about their stances and their backgrounds and everything else that people normally look at when evaluating presidential candidates.

I don't think I'll be voting for Hillary in the primary, and it's not because I'm a woman who doesn't believe women would make a good president. It's because there are other candidates whose politics I prefer.

My question is, is it just me? Am I just so young and short-sighted that I don't remember what it was like for women not to be considered equals, and therefore I don't place enough importance on the gender of the candidate? After all, my mother says that she likes John Edwards' stances best, but she refuses to vote for a white man. Am I missing the historical understanding that would make me believe that it's important for a woman to vote for a woman on that basis alone? Would you vote for Hillary, or any woman, just because she's a woman?

Insert alliterative title here.

Now, unlike some people, I do not normally do a Friday Five. However, today is Friday, and there are five things I want to talk about. So, by default, my first Friday Five:

1. I don't often wear makeup for my skin, but my interest was piqued by Sundry's review of Bare Escentuals makeup a few months back. The nail in the coffin was when Alice raved about them too. So I finally ordered them, and they showed up last night.

At first, I wasn't incredibly impressed. This might be because I have never worn foundation in my life (normally I stick with tinted moisturizer), so I didn't know what to expect. Yeah, it went on and blended in perfectly, and yeah, my skin looked pretty smooth afterward (but to be fair, it looked pretty smooth beforehand too). But it didn't look AMAZING and damn it, that's what I wanted.

In sum, after I put the makeup on, I went into the living room and Torsten exclaimed enthusiastically, "It's great! You look so different!" in a way that was code for, "I see no change whatsoever but I know that I'm supposed to."

However, the stuff has grown on me. I'm wearing it today and my skin does look a little better. I look overall better-rested and more alert, I think, and the makeup is helping. But I think that this might be the kind of product that is more exciting to people who have tried other foundations, or who have problem skin in some way.

2. I think those of you who suggested that my necklace may have gotten caught in my sweater and twisted are right. There's just no other explanation. Torsten definitely did not switch the chain--it had the same clasp, and where would he even have found a stiff, 25" chain to switch it with? Also, he allowed me to proceed with exchanging it without 'fessing up. Anyway, I got my new chain yesterday, and so far all is well. Knock on wood.

3. Speaking of the necklace, yesterday I wore the pendant on one of my normal sterling silver chains, just for one day, ONE DAY. And yet, thanks to my obnoxious nickel allergy, I now have the beginnings of a rash around my neck. Oh, I am grumpy about that.

4. So, who watched the caucuses last night? I have to say that I was not expecting the Huckabee win or the Obama win, but I think I'm glad about both. Torsten loves Obama, and while my feelings are not nearly as strong, I do think he would be a pretty good president. Huckabee, on the other hand, does not seem like a terribly strong candidate for president. So, given that I want a Democrat to win the presidency, I should be rooting for the Republican party to nominate their weakest candidate. Which might be Huckabee.

HOWEVER. I'm no political analyst, and I have no idea if Huckabee is really that weak or if it's just me thinking that in my own head. So what if I root for him to get the Republican nomination, and then he turns around and wins the general election? President Huckabee? Even though I KNOW that who I'm rooting for matters not at all, particularly for the Republican party where I will not be casting a vote, I would be pretty upset with myself if things turned out that way.

5. I'm glad you all agree with me that Pilates are hard. I am especially intrigued by Ana's suggestion that I try out some dance videos, since I had the same thought while I was doing the same old aerobics routine that I've been doing for years. I'm going to keep working on this Pilates thing, but there's no reason not to add some variety. So now is when I need your help, yet again. I want something bouncy, fun, interesting, and challenging but not impossible that gets me dancing and my heart rate elevated. What's a good dance video for me to try? Or at least, what are styles or elements I should look for when trying to pick a dance video?

Hierarchy of crime

According to Sports Illustrated, a newspaper reporter in Pittsburgh will no longer be invited to appear on a local sports panel TV show because he made a comment saying that Michael Vick would be better off right now if he had raped a woman.

I can understand why people are upset about that remark, because if you don't take the time to interpret it, it sounds off-colour. But on the other hand, I think he was right. And I think it's tragic that he was right.

One of the blogs I read regularly, Velvet in Dupont (who is, admittedly, a huge animal lover), has a post up saying that what Vick is accused of doing is much worse than what Kobe Bryant was accused of doing. The quote reads (and this will skyrocket my blog's rating from PG-13 to NC-17), "Whatever happened in Bryant’s hotel room remains unknown. Did a crime occur there? Was the girl raped or was she just a starfucker? Who knows. Who cares really. You go up to a guy’s hotel room you dumb cunt, and you’re asking for it. Women’s rights advocates be damned."

I'm not saying that dogfighting isn't a big deal. It is a big deal, it's a horrible, cruel, disgusting thing to do, and it should be treated as such. Michael Vick should be prosecuted for the laws that he has broken, and I'm glad that he has lost his endorsement deals.

But rape is an equally big deal. It also involves cruel mistreatment of living, feeling beings in a way that is beyond their control and that has long-lasting negative impacts. It is also a terrible crime that should be prosecuted to the fullest extent possible.

I recognize that Kobe Bryant was never convicted of rape or sexual assault against Katelyn Faber, and that nobody knows what happened there. Velvet in Dupont is right that it appears much more clear that Vick committed this crime than it was that Bryant committed that one (and I recognize the other point as well--that women are capable, to a certain extent, of avoiding dangerous situations, whereas dogs cannot avoid being brought into dogfighting situations). But the overall point stands. The public outrage over Michael Vick's alleged crimes is far stronger than the public response to the allegations against Kobe Bryant.

For some reason, alleged rape and sexual assault do not seem to elicit such strong, visceral responses. Is it that such allegations are so commonplace that people don't notice them anymore? Is it because there is some sort of societal prejudice toward alleged rape victims? Clearly, there is a stigma about coming forth and saying you were raped--many victims don't do it or choose not to press charges, many major news outlets don't release the names of victims of sexual assault in order to protect their privacy (which seems to me a tacit acknowledgment that unlike the victims of other crimes such as armed robbery, rape victims are not guaranteed to receive the support and sympathy of the general public), and now there are semantics debates about whether or not words like "rape," "victim," and "assault" should even be allowed to be used in court during rape trials. I find it crazy for a judge to rule that using the correct words to describe the alleged crimes is too "loaded" to be admissible in court.

Rape is a blurry line, and I think it's true that in many cases one person views as consensual what the other person views as forced. People are not always good at communicating with one another, at clearly stating what they do and do not want, and at interpreting each other's cues. I understand why it's such a blurry line with rape, and I understand why it's such a difficult crime to prove.

But when it does happen, it should be taken seriously. There is no need to weigh the crimes of rape and dogfighting against each other and declare that dogfighting is the worse crime. But that's what we have done, and now a reporter is being censured for pointing out the truth--that our society is meting out a worse punishment to a man accused of dogfighting than we would if he were accused of raping a woman. These are our societal priorities, and all Paul Zeise did was point that out. It's too bad that we chose to direct our ire over the issue of sexual assault toward people who make seemingly ill-judged comments about it rather than people who are accused of actually committing it.

Advocacy for working mothers

The Washington Post today ran a front-page article about the ten US Congresswomen who currently have children under the age of 13. The article was front and center on the front page, with a colour photo, and its continuation occupied one full page inside the front section. It was all about the challenges these Congresswomen face as they try to balance work and parenting requirements.

It's true that members of Congress do face an exceptionally difficult set of constraints on their personal time, given that they are not permanent residents of DC but have to spend four night a week here. For this reason, and given that mothers overwhelmingly tend to be the primary caregivers in American families, the article interestingly mentions that these Congresswomen consider themselves advocates for their working mom constituents.

It goes on to cite several examples of this "advocacy": Debbie Wasserman Schultz introduced a bill designed to increase swimming pool safety. Carolyn Maloney is trying to ensure the rights of women to breastfeed in public. Deborah Pryce wants to increase federal funding for childhood cancer research.

All of those things are great. I totally agree: it's bad when kids drown in swimming pools. Women should be able to feed their babies when the babies are hungry without worrying about public stigma or violating the law. Nobody wants kids to die of cancer.

But come on. These women know firsthand exactly how difficult it is to manage the stresses of childcare with a full-time job. They claim to represent the scores of working mothers across the US. And yet they limit their representation to little issues, tiny trees in the forest of the near-impossibility for American women, especially lower-income American women, of having a successful career while ensuring that their children are always in good, reliable, safe care.

Working women in the US earn less than their male counterparts. Often, they have to take on second or even third jobs to help cover the costs of childcare. The US is one of only two industrialized nations (Australia being the other) not to mandate paid parental leave for members of the work force. Most countries in Europe offer high-quality, state-funded childcare that allows for both parents to work without diverting large portions of their income to pay for childcare that is often sub-par.

These things are basic. A democratic, tax-collecting government should be using some of its funds to counteract hindrances to its citizens' ability to remain contributing members of the public sector. Working mothers, exactly the group that is most often forced out of the public sector due to the limited options provided to them by their government, now have ten representatives in Congress who are currently living out similar experiences to their own. These representatives even state publicly that they consider themselves advocates for working moms.

If that's the case, they need to start introducing bills that might be more controversial than "let's try to keep children from dying," but will also have a stronger impact on this disproportionately affected group of working mothers. American women should not be forced into the position of deciding between their careers and their families. It's up to our representatives to do what they can to prevent that from happening. Until they do, they don't deserve this self-ascribed title of "advocate."

I just don't understand why they chose a town called Devil's Lake.

Torsten and I watched Jesus Camp tonight. It was completely horrifying. I knew it would be, and in what way, and yet actually seeing it was still shocking. But there was one scene in particular that I found quite ironic. Toward the end of the film, we see a scene from a megachurch in Colorado Springs, and we see Ted Haggard preaching. Keep in mind that the stuff about Haggard and the gay prostitute didn't come out until November 2006, and Jesus Camp was released in September 2006. Anyway, Haggard is up on stage in all the lights, and he's talking about hypocrisy and the devil, and he's making the audience laugh with a bunch of strange jokes. And the strangest was when he said something along the lines of, "I know what you did last night! I know who you were with! And if you don't give me $1,000, I'm going to tell your wife about it!"

The line is a little prophetic, is all I'm saying. And both more and less funny than it was intended to be at the time, in light of the later revelations about him.

In other news, Torsten's boss is out of town for the week and has kindly loaned us his car to use in his absence. So we were thinking we would take advantage of the unexpected mobility and spend next weekend at the beach, any beach, just a nice sandy salty wet place to spend a couple of boiling hot days. So I looked into a few hotels, and guess what? It's impossible to get a hotel room at the last minute at the beach in peak season. Who would have thought? Seriously, every nasty, seedy motel from the Jersey Shore to Virginia Beach is totally booked. I guess we shouldn't be surprised, but you'd think we'd be able to find something, even if the cockroaches managed to find it first.

Anyway, then we decided that we didn't really care where we went, we should just take advantage of the rare circumstances. So I tried to find cheap last minute travel deals online. Those things definitely exist, but damn it, not in the form that I want them. Why isn't there a website where you type in your starting location, you specify how many miles you're willing to drive and a maximum price for a hotel, and it tells you what it can find for you? Or if such a website exists, why the hell can't I find it?

Hypocrisy at its best

Things that George Bush does often piss me off. In fact, there are very few things he does that do not piss me off. His sleazy maneuvering and his empty threats and his crappy rhetoric and his attempts to insinuate that everything he has messed up since the beginning of his presidency is somehow the fault of Democrats, and the way he relies on a bunch of manipulative tricks to try to convince the (admittedly gullible and more often than not downright idiotic) American people that what he's doing is somehow right and necessary just infuriate me. They make me so angry that there is really nothing I can say to properly convey how much he pisses me off. I have no idea what he's thinking, if he's thinking at all, if he actually holds any regard for his role as the technical leader of the country, if he actually has any regard for the concept of democracy as something in which the elected leader enacts the will of the people, and whether he truly believes that what he's doing is good for the country, or for anybody at all. I really, honestly just do not understand the motivation beyond simple self-absorption and total oblivion for him to do the things that he does. He spends all this time talking about how he doesn't want a Democratic Congress to revert to politics and prevent things from getting done. He's busy trying to spin his veto of the war spending bill as the Democrats withdrawing funding and hurting American troops. He's all about spin and politics, and those are exactly the things for which he attempts to criticize his political opponents.

The list of specific things that he's done that particularly infuriate me is very, very long, and since I suspect that my blog readership has a fairly liberal bent, I won't bother enumerating them. But some of the heinous things he's done as president are so, so much worse than the thing that I'm upset about right now that I almost feel a bit foolish even being upset.

What I'm mad about right now is the fact that, knowing that he would not get the votes to obtain Senate confirmation for his nominee for ambassador to Belgium, Sam Fox, Bush waited until Congress went into recess and then used his power to make recess appointments to just appoint Fox anyway.

This makes no sense to me. I mean, it does in that it's a very clever way to get what you want without other people bothering you. It's sort of like a little kid cleverly choosing which parent to ask for permission to do something controversial: you know Mommy won't say yes, so you wait until she's not home, and then you go ask Daddy. Except in this case Mommy and Daddy wouldn't say yes, so Bush the Giant Little Kid waited until they both weren't home, then did what he wanted.

In what way is this good leadership of a democratic country? In what way is this representing the needs and wants of the people? Granted, he doesn't have to worry about re-election, but he does have to worry about his legacy, both in terms of how he will be written about in history and in terms of how the Republican party will fare in the 2008 elections. When his approval ratings are so low that he had to search high and low for Republican candidates who would allow him to stump for them in 2006, why would he take it upon himself to throw into the faces of the American people, one more time, that he's the president and even though they wish he weren't, there's nothing they can do about it? I can almost hear him cackling, "Nyah nyah nyah" at us as he deliberately ignores the wishes of the majority.

Obviously, he owes Sam Fox a huge favour, given that many people credit Fox with singlehandedly preventing John Kerry from winning the 2004 presidential election. And isn't it nice to know that political favours to horrible people trump the possibility of grasping at even a thread of the idea of democracy? Isn't it nice to know that even if Bush hadn't lied about WMD as a justification for the Iraq war, and even if he had just relied on the pure rhetoric of "spreading democracy," that he would be as hypocritical as ever? His lies and his lack of conviction in the bullshit that he says about democratizing the Middle East are already utterly transparent, but his inability to even pretend to care about the desires of the voting public in his own country just takes the cake.

This feeling of fury and impotence is one of the most frustrating combinations ever. 2008 cannot come soon enough.