Doncha just love to vote? I do. There is always something so exciting about going into that little booth and punching that card and worrying that you've punched the wrong hole and going back and checking on it and feeling like, wow, my teeny tiny vote actually can mean something. And today I got tears in my eyes while I voted (which could really just have meant that I was hungry) because there was a woman and an African American on the ballot and they were truly viable candidates. Now I shouldn't say this but I'm going to say it because Cedric does not read my blog. He voted for Obama. We had a nice talk at the hot dog stand today as he was late because he had to vote and he wanted to read up on all the candidates this morning so he would know exactly what he was voting for. And this guy was a medic (Is that how you spell it? It stands for something, right?) in the Navy during the Gulf War and even HE knew we should not have gone into Iraq.
The hot dog was superb.
I was telling someone that my parents died three years ago about six months apart. And they had the usual response which is..."Awww, that is so sweet. They must have really loved each other."
Actually, my parents hated each other. And the reason that they lived so long was because they were waiting for the other one to die so they could stand at their grave and shout..."Ha! I outlived you, you asshole!" That didn't happen, of course, but my mother went first and that was a very good thing for my father. He got a few months of peace before he left town. But when someone says..."They must have really loved each other.", I just let them think that because I have told people that my parents hated each other and all they do is laugh and think it's a joke. Oh haha. Not a joke when you grow up with screaming yelling insane people. My mother was once so angry at my dad that she told me he was gay! Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about because I was around six at the time and my only gay awareness was knowing these really nice guys named Andy and Brad who were interior decorators and they had a kid at my school and I could tell they were not an ordinary couple but it never bothered me nor did I think twice about it but years later when I thought about what my mother had said I decided she was just yammering and she could have said that he was a Republican or a whale...She had just picked a word out of the air and attached her signature anger to it. Always very effective.
A woman came into the drip room today...Breasts first...OhmyGod...These breasts were so enormous they made it impossible not to stare. Luckily...or sadly...There were no men in the room. So she sits down with these enormous things and looks very glum and says that she used to be an exotic dancer (oh what a surprise) but now she is suffering from traumatic stress syndrome. (Could the stress be having to carry those things around all day?) And she had this teeny tiny voice and she was taking vitamin c for her stress and then she said she'd had a head injury and all I could picture was her getting out of the bathtub and tripping and getting hit on the head with one of her boobs. I'm telling you, they were lethal. But that's all she said. Never did completely explain the trauma. They gave her the IV and she was out like a light. I hope she doesn't live in a three story walkup. (What the hell does that mean!)
Yes, the Super Bowl was great. First time I ever rooted for a team beause of the quarterbacks name. Go Eli Go Eli Go Eli..........Oh, it was such a pleasure to yell and scream about a football game and not some horrible thing happening in my life.
Today was a good day. If I go to sleep right now it will end that way. But it's only five thirty. You know, dammit, I'm going stay up until midnight and make this entire day a truly Super Tuesday.
But just in case...Where are my pajamas?