Politcal Enthusiast

I would like to say that I am fiercely independent when it comes to politics. It angers me to hear people say they cast their vote solely for Democrats or Republicans – with absolutely no regard for the candidate or their character. I mean, I get that each party has their particular platform, and stances on important issues, but shouldn’t they be voted into office on more than just their affiliation? Who knows, maybe I’m the dork – it’s totally possible.

Some might call me a flip flopper.  Quite often, I flip when I should have flopped. For example, I voted for Al Gore in the 2000 Presidential Election and then George Bush won. But then, on 9/11, I remember thinking…God. I am so glad George Bush is in office and not Al Gore. For one, his name is Al. And two, I think he just would have been a little pussy boy during such a horrific crisis. I could be wrong. I usually am.

By 2004, I absolutely hated George Bush. Just Google “George Bush Blunders” – and that pretty much sums it up. Needless to say, I voted for John Kerry in 2004, and lost that one as well. Don’t worry. I haven’t shed too many tears over that.  John Kerry was as vanilla as … I don’t know. Something REALLY vanilla. I used to have a boss that would call something “milk toast” if she thought something was bland. I guess he seemed bland to me. If you are an eater, what could be worse than something bland?

Now that it is present day, I couldn’t really tell you any details of either platform (despite the obvious differences in party affiliations) …I just hated George Bush and thought he was a total moron. I secretly prayed that John McCain would run. That was a Republican I could really get behind. Who doesn’t like a man that can spend more than five years as a POW only to emerge with a slight limp. What a bad ass! Who cares if he is older than dirt and could die tomorrow?

Sure enough, my prayers were answered in 2008 when he decided to run for President. Why, oh why, did he have to pick Sarah Palin as a running mate? Did I mention that McCain is as old as dirt and could die tomorrow? What the hell was he thinking picking her? I know there are plenty of folks out there that love her child-rearing, gotcha question, down-to-earth, geography-challenged ways, but I really disliked her with a passion. In fact, I enjoyed watching Tina Fey’s version of Sarah Palin – more than Sarah Palin herself. At least she was TRYING to be funny.

So, I did what I always do…Flipped. I admit, I got swept in by the whole Barack Obama love fest. What wasn’t there to love? He was smart, well-spoken, educated, charismatic, and black. I love that. As it turns out, I wouldn’t be called “racist” when I voted for the first black president…but I might be called “racist” for not voting for him next time. I want to be clear, the fact that Barack Obama is black has nothing to do with why I won’t vote for him next time…but that is just the label you get when say something as blasphemous as that. What it could be is that I just don’t like the job he is doing. Did he inherit the country at its worst? You betcha (that is Sarah Palin slang right there). Could someone else have done a better job? I dunno (that is a little George Bush impersonation). What I do know is all the “hope-y, dream-y” stuff just isn’t doing it for me anymore. Like a fish out of water, I think I’m gearing up for a flop.

So, at our house, we have been glued to the debates. I have to admit, the candidates are not all that exciting. Mitt Romney…boring. Rick Perry…Bush-esque. Michele Bachmann…just not good enough. Now Herman Cain…interesting. I just can’t get enough of his 9-9-9 plan. In fact, I just love a man with a plan. It’s just so catchy and appealing – even if it does sound like a pizza special. And his explanation is just so enlightening, “If 10 percent is good enough for God, than 9 percent should be good enough for the government.” Can I get an Amen?

So, if I voted for Barack Obama – a black Democrat. AND then I vote for Herman Cain – a black Republican…and I think Beyonce and Jay Z are just the cutest couple ever, and I lived in an all-black neighborhood in Chicago (w/white Polish prostitutes…but that is neither here nor there), am I still racist? Or, am I just an un-loyal, flip-flopping person, with an affinity for black people, who just picks the wrong political candidates in every election? Ponder that one people!

You better fine-tune that 9-9-9 plan Herman Cain…my vote is the kiss of death!

O-B-G-Y-FRIEND

Yes, it is ironic that I am married to a doctor and yet I hate going to one. I don't actually "hate" the person, I just strongly dislike playing the part of the patient. Because of this, I tend to avoid them like the plague and only see one when it is absolutely necessary.

Last week, I was officially two years overdue for my "annual" exam. I dread this exam the same way I dread picking up dog poop in the rain, singing Karaoke at a bar, or having a volatile diarrhea episode on the side of Mt. Adams.

Compounding matters is the fact that I'm actually friends with my GYNY doctor and it is beyond embarrassing to have her fingers up my vagina as we catch up on small talk. But, you can't escape the importance of prevention when you cohabitate with a physician, so I knew I needed to bite the bullet, coif the goods, and schedule an appointment with my O-B-G-Y-FRIEND.

Wednesday it was. It was an incredibly chaotic morning to say the least. I woke up late - as I often do - and tried to make coffee, breakfast, and lunch for my husband before he ran out the door at 6:30. Meanwhile all three kids are bright-eyed and bushy tailed, mad as hell they haven't eaten breakfast yet, and my oldest son is screaming for me to watch him poop (for some reason, he can't perform without an audience). Tango, the insane Golden Retriever puppy is humping our youngest, and my daughter is throwing a hormone-induced tantrum over the botched "side" ponytail.
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Because there is a God, and miracles do happen, I did get everyone out the door and to school on time - but I was dirty. No shower. No brushing of my pearly whites. No make-up. No coffee. No breakfast. No Likey. Normally this would not be all that tragic, but I refuse to pay my O-B-G-Y-FRIEND a visit without giving my parts some time and attention. A shower was simply not a convenience today, it was a necessity. 

As I raced home from dropping the kids off at school, I knew I only had about 20 minutes to make everything right again. I showered, shaved, put on a cute pair of undies (not sure why, it's not like she sees them), and doused myself with yummy smelling body lotion. I figure she has got to see some real doozies throughout the day...Why not give her a little something to look forward to? Okay. That's probably overstating things a bit. But at least she wouldn't have to "dread" my cervical scraping. Let her dread one of the other women in that waiting room - not me.

I felt a bit nostalgic just being there. With more than 11 pregnancies and 3 actual kids in the prior 5 years, her office had become my home away from home. Although this time, I wasn't going to have to pee in a cup, endure a vaginal ultrasound, or potentially hear bad news about another pregnancy. I simply had to undress, fashion a lovely gown that opened in the front, get my boobies massaged and warm up the cold speculum. Know that I think about it - it almost sounds spa-like.

Soon my O-B-G-Y-FRIEND knocked on the door (after a 30 minute, long and cold wait). We spent the first few minutes catching up.

Me: How are the kids?
Her: Great! How are yours?
Me: Great!
Her: Bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla....
Me: Bla, bla, bla, bla...
Her: yadda, yadda, yadda...
Me: Right back at ya...
Her: Okay, now I'm going to insert my fingers into your vagina.

 Holy Jesus. I'm glad the rest of my friends are stay-at-home moms.