Now I Remember.

For the last couple years I have become so disenchanted with politics, I used to be a rabid politic junkie.  Remember "George" magazine?  I had a subscription.  I couldn't wait to get my monthly copy and read amazing columns by Paul Begala, Al Franken, and yes, even Ann Coulter.  Remember the insane covers...Cindy Crawford dressed as George Washington?  Drew Barrymore dressed as Marilyn Monroe?  George Clooney dressed as Thomas Jefferson?  John Kennedy Jr. was a co-creator, they created a magazine that made politics hip, sexy, funny, and relevant.  It addressed domestic and foreign issues in a way that was comprehendable and even entertaining.  It was the adult version of Tiger Beat magazine for me.  In 1997 I even took a trip to Washington D.C. with my best friend, we sought out restaurants where senators and congressman were known to hang out...because we were obsessed and excited about everything political.  We were informed.

I cried the night George W. Bush was elected president the first time.  I was terrified for my children and for our country.  I knew this meant we would be going to war and I could hardly bear the thought of our young men fighting a battle that wasn't ours.  I knew he would blow the budget off the charts with his tax cuts and insane military spending. Of course, no one could foresee 9/11, but I could feel that we were in a lot of trouble.  By his second term election I didn't care anymore.  I was tired, beat down and disillusioned.  I wondered why there were people in this country who would vote for this man... again!  I didn't much like half this country and could not stand to talk politics with anyone as it always turned vitriolic, awkward.

I voted for Hilary Clinton in the 2008 primary, I still believe she would be an amazing President and I hope she chooses to run in 2016.  She has been a brilliant Secretary of State.

I voted for Barack Obama, I was excited and definitely hopeful.  I became a little disillusioned about halfway in.  I wanted our troops to come home.  I wanted my house to be worth more than I paid for it.  I was impatient.  I knew that this was a mess left by our former president, I knew it was a big, stinkin' mess, but I wanted it to go away...Now.   I was naive and idealistic.  President Clinton helped me with that last night.  Cleaning up messes is a lot harder than making them, it takes time and cooperation to get it done quickly.  Unfortunately President Obama was bound by a republican agenda to make sure he was a one term president, they seemed not to care about what was best for the country but what was best for their party.  Heartbreaking.

My zeal, passion, excitement for politics is back in a big way.  I remember why I loved President Clinton, I remembered what I know we can accomplish, I remembered why I love being a democrat.  I remembered that I still have hope. 
 

More Sick, More Weird, and Oprah.

I'm home with this.

It's that time of year.  Blech.  They fall like domino's and I think that Jack is the last one.  I had it, Drew brought it, Liv came with it, Sam has it now, Grace just got over it, and Mike always claims to have whatever I have, whenever I have it.

It's always the same menu, Top Ramen and Sprite.  Top Ramen is banned in my house except in the case of extreme poverty and illness and the kids take full advantage of each and every sniffle to score a bowl.  I'm embarrassed to buy it and find it necessary to inform my checker of the facts behind my purchase.  There's something about spending 25 cents to fill my child with fried noodles swimming in heavily salted, artificially flavored liquid that makes me feel sheepish.  I don't care about the big bottle of wine, super-plus tampons, Monistat, or moist flushable wipes. I'd seriously rather be seen buying condoms (sorry).  I'm weird like that.  I bought the six pack so I don't have to go back for more. 

On another note...Sister Wives is on Oprah today!  I have to say I'm not fond of new wife Robin, she's a cryer.  She annoys me.  Kody is exhibiting a bit of creeper vibe lately too.  Good stuff.

I want a sister wife

Did you watch it?  I did, and I'm not ashamed to say that I'm feeling a new obsession coming on.  My fascination with polygamy is well-known, click the obsessed tab on my facebook and you'll see an ad for 'Big Love' pop up.  My favorite book this summer was 'The 19th Wife', although the Lifetime movie was super lame.  I also loved, loved, loved 'The Lonely Polygamist'.  My interest is likely a result of my deep Mormon pioneer roots, although nowhere in my lds history can we find any indication of polygamy in our family.  We can barely stay married to one person, let alone 3 or 4.  Plus, that pesky Bill Paxton crush I've had since Twister probably makes the lifestyle seem more appealing than it should be.

Gets ya thinking though.  Although, this could never be something I could tolerate in real reality, it seems to have it's merits if you are to believe what this show is bringing.  Sister Wives is TLC's newest reality show...Kody Brown and his three wives have been married for 16 years, have 12 kids and another on the way.  These woman have enviable relationships with each other, they take care of each other's kids, the one who wants to work outside the house does (and comes home to a prepared dinner), the others stay home, one is in school training to be a psychologist(!).  Kody is the husband and appears to be a fantasy man.  He's cute in a surfer dude kinda way, he dotes on his children and wives.  The wives come in all shapes, sizes and degrees of attractiveness and he appears to love them all just the same.  The children seem completely well adjusted and happy, in fact their productivity makes my kids look like lazy slugs (not that that's difficult).  They do yardwork, cook, clean and take care of each other without even a sigh or eye roll.  Seriously. 

I'm anticipating a lot of angst in the episodes to come.  Kody is bringing in a fourth wife, cuter and younger than the others and she comes with three kids of her own.  I smell draaammma.  These are definitely not the Duggars.  Oy!