I voted

We voted our asses off, and I hope you did, too.  It is indeed time for change.

Ugly, ugly.

In an e-mail yesterday from my dad:

Subject: Dear Mr. Obama

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TG4fe9GlWS8
 
I know there's a good Obama representation in the recipients  - but this is one ,of the reasons those of us with a military background, distrust Obama so much...

My reply (I replied to everyone he sent the message to, and added a few of my own):

And this is one of the many reasons why those of us with a uterus distrust McCain so much:
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5b_0Qs-38ng

My uncle's reply today (career military, 4 star general, very respected):

I hope you don't hate all who told variations of this joke twenty two years ago. However, feel free to let your uterus vote.

He sent that to everyone, including the people I added in my message.  Um, dick much?  What does that say about McCain supporters?  I certainly hope the intention there wasn't to sway my opinion.

My final reply, sent only to my uncle:

Hating someone is different than voting them into office -- rape jokes are base and classless.  As a woman in this country you bet I'm letting my uterus do my voting for me -- I've even trained it to hold a pencil.  :)

For the record, I'm not a stick in the mud, and I'm not a prude.  I happen to think that there are subjects that aren't appropriate for any kind of joke... say the Holocaust and, oh, I don't know.  Rape.  I don't care if you told that joke 20 years ago or tomorrow, if you think that's funny, then you suck. 

And that's that.

Halloween

Our town does a Halloween parade every year, which is surprising given the religious nature of the community, but whatever.  We loved it.

This year, the town decided not to do a parade for "safety reasons."  Yeah.  I'm 100% sure it had more to do with some religious zealot getting their underpants in a wad, but the decision was made, and there was nothing we could do about it.  We called the school, and the principal dodged our calls.  Like that.

The benefit to living in a small town, though, is that you hear things, and you run into people.  I ran into the mother of one of Marissa's friends while shopping the other day.  She told me that there was a group of mothers who were planning to take their kids out of school on Halloween to do their own damn parade.  I smiled so hard I thought my face would crack, and told her to count us in.

There was a huge turnout -- I wasn't expecting so many kids.  Tons of people lined up on the street to check out the costumes and wave and cheer them on, and a few officers blocked traffic for the kids to cross streets and such.  After the parade we went to the Municipal building and the kids had pizza, chips, cupcakes, cookies, ice cream, candy, soda -- you name it.  All provided for free, from parent volunteers, who put the whole thing together at the last minute.

I have to say that as much as this place disappoints me sometimes, other times it rocks my damn socks off.

click to view our whole Halloween extravaganza

Seriously amazing

This past weekend was pretty much one of the best weekends ever.  I got to go to New York for the first time, meet my homegirl Krystyn for the first time, and meet my co-workers, also, for the first time.  It was a very short trip (left Friday, came back Saturday) but Krystyn managed to pack as much stuff in as possible. 

Up until, like, yesterday I was still recovering from the trip.  My legs, they were tired.  All that walking and the stairs to and from the subway took a toll on my hefty West Virginia ass, but it was so beyond worth it.  The minute I got home the whole thing seemed surreal (did I really go to New York?  for reals?) so I'm glad I got proof.

Hans Christian Andersen she is not

Charlie tells stories all the time.  ALL. THE. TIME.  They're really... interesting.  I took the liberty of transcribing one of her stories this evening, so you can get an idea of, well, you know.  All the crazy.

Once upon a time there was a little fairy, and the ghosties were trying to take my books.  They tried to take me, and then I ran away from the ghosties, and then they tried to take my ball.  And then, they tried to take the fairy, like, big huge fairy.  And then they took my hair out of my head.  And then they shaved my hair.  And then they put something else on me.  And then they took my pink computer, but I snapped at them, with my computer, but they died, and then I killed them.  And then, um, then, I did my letters.  And then they tried to take my letters.  But I actually took them away from my letters.  And then that's all.  Now I'm going to tell you my other story.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Phoebe H9, and then Phoebe was falling asleep, and then I looked for the eyeshadow, and then I looked for the wall, and for my hair, and for my head.  And then I looked for my computer, where they took them, and my letters, where they took them.  And then I looked for my coffee drink, and my fire, but they put it in there, with your fire (pointing to the woodstove).

At this point I ask her to hang on (since she's rattling on and on, and I'm typing this as she's telling it), and she says:

You know, mom?  I'm not going to tell you any more stories.  You're just going to work.

I know, right?  The child is clearly gifted.