The Surrogate

The cover story of this week's New York Times Sunday Magazine is titled, "Her Body, My Baby-My Adventure with a Surrogate Mom," and it's written by Alex Kuczynski. The problem with the article is neatly captured in that word "adventure." Because adventure and surrogacy have nothing to do with each other. It's like "Let's put a smirk on heartache." Heartache doesn't want a smirk. Then there are the photos. Shame on the Times for the photos. And for all the people in them for posing for them. But these things don't matter to me an awful lot. I mean, they kind of do, but then again, not really, because when I finished reading the article last night I found myself right back in that stew of feeling that I lived in for the last year and a half of my own three and a half year trip through the infertility jungle. It was during those 18 months, after my first IVF when I got pregnant only to miscarry at nine weeks, that I fell into the trap that Kuczynski (whom I've known of since college because she went to my college and she cut a figure in the dining hall) describes fairly poignantly, even if I'm not so sure she herself would say this. (But we each read our own version of everything anyway.) The infertility trap is that you want to get pregnant so badly that you kind of forget that the point is to have a baby. This is an incredibly mean trick and I'm not sure it sets in with everyone who struggles to have a biological child. But my guess is if the problem persists for years, then watch out, because it can creep in and creep in hard and do all kinds of things to your decision making and how you think about yourself and life and what it means to be a mom.

Now I'm at the point where what I'm writing has fairly little to do with what Kuczynski wrote and I fear that without my writing a lot more about myself not much will make sense. It's not that I don't want to write about myself and my infertility, it's just that the story isn't exactly unusual or trenchant. (If you like there's this short essay that I wrote here.) So to get back to the Times article I will say I wish the article had been less glib. I wish I didn't know how rich the author is. I wish I didn't have the snarky thought, "What the hell? She made a tuna sandwich for her surrogate?!" (Tuna is high in mercury and discouraged during pregnancy.) But mostly, I read the article and just felt sad. Very, very sad in a way I hadn't felt since those endless days of yearning. I'm relieved they're gone.

I Meant to Have the Soup

Really, I did. But then it was lunchtime and we were at the Museum of Natural History, which happens to be across the street from Shake Shack, so.......

Audio Books

I'm interested in listening to audio books, and because of that, I was especially thrilled to read this post over at A Life Divided about Sue's favorite books to listen to and one (Corduroy Mansion) that she (and you and I) can listen to right now. How much do I love "corduroy" in a title? I can't even tell you how much.

The Un-Skinny Holiday, Or That I Stood in Front of the Pantry Eating Chocolate Chips

So, I think most people know that I wrote this book with Melissa Clark called The Skinny: How to fit into your little black dress forever. And if you've read it you know that we give a lot of advice for dealing with the holidays and the food and the stress and tips for not eating too much or accepting that you're eating too much or being mindful about this being a once-a-year kind of thing without letting the Creep set in after the new year. (The creep being 1-2 pounds you might gain over the holidays and then not lose.) In the years since we wrote the book, I did pretty well at Thanksgiving. I don't know why. I ate reasonably. I didn't take seconds just for the sake of it. I didn't drink too much. And if I didn't love a dessert, I didn't eat it.

This year? Not so much.

If Melissa and I were still blogging The Skinny, I'd be blogging about how I'm not bad for eating a lot and how each meal offers a whole new chance to connect with what I really want to eat even if it's a bagel and I had stuffing for dessert the night before I craved the bagel and not only that but after the stuffing I stood facing the kitchen cabinet dropping one chocolate chip after another into my mouth, unable to put the bag down and walk slowly away.

I don't know why this happened. I think I was just tired, and I think I overindulged all week (for a variety of reasons), and so by the time Friday night rolled around, I couldn't think of even one good reason why not to eat a little bit more of this, that or the other thing that I didn't really, really want. It's not the end of the world that I ate all that, it's just that now all I crave is, like, brothy soup with little bits of tofu in it. For example, I think I really want this soup in Vegetable Soups from Deborah Madison's Kitchen. It's made of, I believe, mushroom broth, tofu and cilantro and I think it's called Green Soup or some such and that's what I'm going to make tomorrow, because that's what I really, really want. Along with a bagel. Because every time I taste a bagel from somewhere not New York, I have to have a New York bagels as soon as possible.

Remember: If you want the bagel, eat the bagel. Then have the soup.

Couch to 5K: Week 2 begins!

Today I completed the third workout of the first week of Couch to 5K. Here's why I like it:
1) It tells me what I'm supposed to do.
2) It tells me how long it will take.
3) I can do what I'm supposed to do in the time it takes.

Really, the whole thing is terrific. And today, as I did what I was supposed to do, I watched the gym's bank of TVs and the one tuned to CNN kept showing the same shot of a man pacing in the wings of a very presidential looking stage. Then they ran a ticker (which I needed since I didn't have earphones) and the ticker said, "President-Elect Obama about to make important economic announcement." Or something like that. Never mind how thrilling "President-Elect Obama" remains, how about that he was pacing. I mean, I know he has a cool demeanor, but must be wound pretty tight (the discipline, the cigarettes). And yet, the pacing, it was unnerving. I don't know why. Maybe it's just that I don't want to see my presidents preparing to speak. There's no backstage thrill for me. I just want to see them speak. The pacing could have made me feel less assured by Obama had I watched the actual announcement, never mind listened to it. As it was, though, I just let the stalking steps of the President-Elect knock around my brain until it was time to get off the treadmill and head home.

Friday, week 2 begins. Wish me luck. And have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

The Knitting Thing

The other day I was in my knit shop , Yarntopia, (yes, it's mine, that's how I am about knit shops) and I bought a book called Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and as I did, something happened to me. I can't quite describe it, but I guess one way to cut into the feeling is to say this: I fell in love. The book has gorgeous photographs and beautiful patterns for projects I would actually want to make. So there's that. But there's also the whole idea of me as someone who makes gorgeous, last minute knitted gifts for the people in my life. I love that, even though I'm not really that. It's kind of how I felt when I got The River Cottage Family Cookbook -- like right here, in my hands, is this world I want to not just cook in, but BE in. Just like that, Last Minute Knitted Gifts presents a world I want to find myself in, and, happily, I don't have to gut a fish to do it.

I wonder, though, if my reaction is partly abuot the thrill of finishing afgans I made for my kids, and almost finishing the famous bear, but also if it's part of a turning to home that happens when the world feels precarious. Knitting isn't a frugalista hobby -- yarn costs -- but it is very home art-y and it give me at least that great sense of making something in a prefab world. It's like why I bake cookies. (And bake and bake) I just get that mmm-mmm good feeling. And see, I'm so inistently earnest about it. I must be in love, I can't even make a joke. Times are too rough, and there's too much knitting to do. Way too much.

All About Blogging

People have a lot to say about blogging, the state of blogging, how people blog, why people blog. I find the discussions interesting, sort of. Andrew Sullivan's Atlantic piece on the subject was really interesting because it was about the state of media and writing as much as blogging. I'm asked all the time why I blog now that I don't blog for The Skinny anymore and I always say, "Because Melissa told me to." Which is true, but not the whole truth. I don't know the whole truth of why I blog, but I like it, and I wish people would stop writing about why other people blog so I could spend more time blogging, or reading other blogs, or knitting, or thinking about running, or cooking or something. Sometimes it all gets a little too self-referential and that makes me want to stop blogging, or something, just to be contrary. But I like it, so I won't do that. At least not this week. See, this post is maybe too cute by half, but I'm keeping it up, because that's what the blogging is all about.

Something I'd Like to Read

Autism's False Prohpets by Paul Offit about vaccinations and autism is exactly the kind of book I'd like to read. I love the debunking yarn, the naysaying challenger, the guy who's all "Oh no they didn't." I know there are probably compelling books out there about the truth to the autism-vaccination connection, but I'm not so interested in those because I feel like opting out of vaccination asks others to assume a potential (perhaps non-existent) risk you yourself aren't willing to take and yet you rely on those others who are willing to take any risk that might be associated with vaccination to protect your kids from the much greater risk of infectious disease. In other words, it's not fair. In my opinion. I know I'm throwing down the vaccination gauntlet here, but so be it. I don't want to fight about it, I want to read about it. This review from Sullivan's blog made me want to read about it. But, you know what? I'm not going to read that book. I'm reading Middlemarch. I'm knitting a bear. If the Dow weren't below 8,000 (or whatever it is), maybe I'd buy it and stick it on my shelf, but the frugalista in me is demanding honesty and honesty says I'm just going to keep on keeping on in my opinions and if in six months I'm really compelled, I can always go to the library.

Quinnipiac University Poll

Ever wonder who gets polled in the Quinnipiac University Poll? Well, guess who just got called? My household! And guess who couldn't get polled? That's right: Me. Because I'm not the person in my household with the next birthday. Even though that guy (my husband) wasn't home, the pollster wouldn't relent and let me throw in my two cents. I was so disappointed. My big chance to get polled -- kaput.

From Couch Potato to 5K

A huge shout out to Sue Dickman over at A Life Divided for letting me know about the running program aptly named, "The Couch to 5K Running Plan." Today I did the very first day of the training program and I'm so excited! I wasn't going to do it, but when I talked to my brother to wish him a happy birthday he was so excited that I was going to start running that I felt like I had to. He was all, "Call me when you're done with your run!" I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd thought of today as more of a "think about what it'll be like when you're running 5K" kind of day. Then, I got antsy, and I didn't have time to get to the pool and I really can't stand that pool anyway, so, lo and behold, there I was on the treadmill, walking for 90 seconds, jogging for 60, and reading the captions on CNN: Bill Richardson, Trade something or another. Someone else, Treasury Secretary, someone Bob Rubin likes! It was very moderate. It was very reasonable. It was very satisfying. Now, I need a cookie.

My Brother, the Transition, and Me

So yesterday afternoon, while my kids were hovering between calm and chaos, my brother calls. He tells me what he needs to tell me (bring bathing suits home for Thanksgiving!), and then he says this: "And Obama is busy recreating the Clinton administration." Lest you think I'm that much calmer since the election, you should know that this snidely delivered comment created the threat of an exploding skull--my own. Because my brother is one of those weird moderate Republicans at heart with whom I'm supposed to be able to disagree amicably but who in fact drive me a little bananas and ignite my inner three-year-old who wants to stamp her foot and say, "No! I'm right!"

Well, maybe it's just my brother who's that kind of moderate Republicans. Maybe I'd do better with moderate Republicans who didn't spend their eleventh and my eight year giving me wet willies (wet finger in ear) when I was innocently watching MASH reruns while our mother was at the supermarket.

Seriously, though, I think it's pretty facile to say the Obama administration is the Clinton administration relived. Sure, many of the people from Clinton's administration will serve in Obama's. But that doesn't mean the administrations are the same. For example, the selection of Daschle for Health and Human Services speaks to an understanding of the on-the-ground legislating politics that makes Washington go. I don't believe Clinton in his first term had that, and certainly Hillary Clinton in her Health Care Reform efforts didn't have that.

Now, isn't everyone glad we got this out of the way before Thanksgiving so we won't have this fight and I won't have to upstage my older brother in my rightness and none of the children who will be present will be able to use this particular scene in his or her screenplay of a dysfunctional family gathering? I sure am.

Oh, and there's this: Happy Birthday, Louis!

Bra-Jen-Lina: RIP

So I know I said I was done with celebrities and what they're wearing, but after seeing the new Vogue cover with Jennifer Anniston wearing a strange little smirk and another tan, I have to ask, when will it end?  There's a quote: "What Angelina did was uncool."  OK.  What about what Brad did? And you? Did you do nothing?  Full disclosure: I did not read the article. I do not plan to read the article. I thought about it, but then I passed three newsstands plastered with Aniston on the covers of magazines decrying the Brangelina union and promising to answer the question, "Why she still won't blame Brad?"  

I mean, I know the Hollywood ending would be fore Anniston, the sort of pretty nice, funny girl to end up with the total hot-o-matic guy instead of the sultry, dark, tatooed and makes-out-with-her-brother Angelina.  But he didn't. And now they have six kids.  Would America really prefer a Brad and Jen reunion over keeping the family together?  I know, Sarah Palin does and should answer that, but still, it's been four years, it's done. Over. Kaput.  And now, please, could someone please run a tanning intervention on Ms. Anniston?  Because the tanning thing, it's got to stop.

Get the List

Andrew Sullivan has a link to a list of people and business who donated over $5K to overturn gay marriage.  I couldn't get to the list, but here's his post, and hopefully we'll all have a chance to see who's on it and spend money accordingly (as in not spend it at those businesses that supported Prop 8).

Slouching Toward Thanksgiving

This time of year do you ever feel like you're just counting the minutes 'til you get to throw in the towel and abandon all pretense of productivity because it's "the holidays"?  I wonder if I've felt like this before, but right now, I'm just so tired.  All I want to do is sleep, knit, think about how I wept on election night and read Middlemarch.  And if it weren't for the darn Kindergarten situation, I could do just that, with maybe a run thrown in for good measure.  I want to be clear, I'm not complaining right now, I'm just describing.

Middlemarch

For a long now, I've wanted to read Middlemarch. For several years running winter would come and  I would start it and get bogged down and feel bad and put it down and then try again the next winter. I never got past page fifty.  Then, this weekend, stuck in an airport with nothing but The New Yorker and Middlemarch for hours and hours both going and returning, I dove in. I mean, I read almost all of The New Yorker first, and then, the glory of provincial England opened before me, word by word, and it was good.  

Weirdest thing? In the airport, I wasn't even tempted by Us or People or any of it.  Can it be I'm not so interested in how celebrities are dressing or whether or not Reese is ready to marry again, specifically Jake?  This week, maybe so, but, seriously, it kind of means I don't even know who I am anymore.  And now, I've got to get to the bear.

The Bear and The Blog

I think I was somewhat disrespectful toward my bear-knitting and my blog in my last post, the one about Cheney and how he should be prosecuted for war crimes. I mean, I'm not a political blogger for real, I'm a political worrier, and I'm not a real, serious knitter, but I do like to knit.

So, I'm not going to blog seriously about politics, meaning I'm not going to investigate anything or start a campaign to get Cheney prosecuted or get Michael Pollan to be secretary of agriculture, even though part of me wishes I were someone who would do something like either of those two examples. Likewise, I'm not going to blog about the ins-and-outs of my bear knitting pattern or how I had to re-do the bear's bottom three times before I figured out how to get it right.

Which is to say that just like the Obamas and the media and the rest of everybody, I'm in transition, finding my way back to normal life. The knitting helps, it gives me so much pleasure, and it's making me feel strangely competent (I figured out the bottom! And knitting on double pointed needles, too!) and I'm so glad to be knitting this bear for Melissa's baby girl.

So, maybe I am someone who would start a campaign to get Cheney indicted on war crimes and maybe I will knit another bear for some of the other babies in my life. That's how things go, right? Maybe this, maybe that, some feels more important, some less. But each task should get the respect it deserves, at least from me if I'm doing it, and at least on this blog. I guess I'm feeling a wee bit earnest tonight. Earnest and tired. So it goes. Local or express, you know?

Re-Orienting

Tonight at dinner I was talking to my husband about my new approach to time with my kids, which is, I try to actually be there when I spend time with my kids. I don't try to talk on the phone, and I only rarely check email.  "Of course," I mused, "this is easier now that the election is over."  Because it's just easier in life not to have to check a blog every five minutes or call a friend to talk about how you have to check the political blogs every five minutes. You know?  But then I checked in with my old blog Andrew Sullivan who has a link to a story on Talking Points Muckraker about Democrats wanting to make sure Cheney's papers are preserved and made public.  Because, of course, Cheney is a war criminal and he must be prosecuted.  (I would link to the story but there was something wrong with the script and trying to get to it crashed my browser.)  Seriously,  if electing Obama went a long way toward repairing America's reputation abroad, then prosecuting Cheney would let us begin to restore the moral compass that should direct how Americans treat others during conflict. Electing Obama meant electing the more competent candidate, prosecuting Cheney reminds the world and American that laws matter, that torture will not stand, and that power has its limits.  That's harder than electing the right guy, actually, and it must be done.

By the way, before I read that thing on Sullivan's blog, I was going to blog about how weird it is to be knitting a bear.  It's still weird, but that's a whole other blog.

Prop 8

There's a lot I want to say about Prop 8, especially since I've just actually married a couple. But, the thing is, I've yet to find the time to sit and sort through what I'm actually thinking about all this beyond the general heartbreak and horror at its passage and the strange hocus-pocusness of marrying. Many people at the wedding where I was the official officiant asked me what I had to do to get certified as an officiant and the bottom line is this: I had to do not much.  With the internet, anyone can become a minister, and with a minister's certificate, anyone can go to City Hall and register as an officiant. So why can't anyone who wants to get married?  And I don't mean enter into a civil union, I mean pledge to their lover the rights and responsibility that are embedded in a life-long union and call it a marriage because that's what it is.  I know, I'm being dim and ignoring fear and prejudice, but, seriously, who's hurt by a nice gay couple getting married? 

I would comment on Dan Savage's piece in the Times today, but he makes his point and gins up some anxiety, which I hope will be besides the point, but only if we're all vigilant, because at the Right constricts, we could be in for some seriously loud fear-mongering.

On a Personal Note

I've made a decision: I'm going to start running. I was told I can't only swim as exercise because I need to do weight bearing exercise because I'm a white woman and I already have some arthritis and therefore I'm on the fast track to weak bones. But I hate machines, I'm terrible about weights (though I'm going to get better), I have no time for yoga (and my wrist is arthritic so I can't do chattaranga anymore), so running it is. When I was at my friend Melissa's the other day visiting her and her adorable new baby girl, I found a book called Chi Running. Melissa says her husband swears by it, so, breezing by the fact that her husband is a voracious consumer of all and any information and a disciplined applier of systems (two things I am not) I decided it would be just the trick for me. So, if in three weeks I'm blogging from the floor because my back hurts so much that I can't move off of it, you'll know why.

Facebook and Random Patter

I just joined and I'm seriously, deeply, profoundly overwhelmed by it and I can't believe how many people I know are on it!  I think I'm going to have a lot to say about Facebook, which is, like, so meta, I know.  But right now, I'm too, you know, boggled by it to write too much more.  Besides, this week, it's a Week. It feels like a funny, busy, all consuming week, the kind of week that makes it hard to blog, but blog more I will. And tomorrow? Top Chef!

Dreams From My Father

You know how when a friend tells you a dream and you can tell that there's something extremely interesting in the dream but somewhere around the time that she's back in her third grade classroom you check right out and you really wish you wouldn't because you know it's important but you just can't help it?  That's the point I've reached in Dreams From My Father.  I know I'll be glad to have read it when it's done. Really, up until two days ago I've been glad to be reading it. But with less than 100 pages to go, I'm ready to move on from the pre-Harvard Law Obama. Honestly, I'm ready to simply read about him in The New Yorker, and I think I'm also, finally, ready for Middlemarch. I hear it's great!

Facing the Week

Usually, I like to blog on Sunday nights, but today was just a long rough day with 4-year-olds who wanted to buy toys and me with a sinus headache so even though the day started like gangbusters with a trip to the gym and Whole Foods, it's ending on a whimper.  I have no reflections, no big ideas, nothing I really feel like I need to -- or should -- write except I'm looking forward to knitting.  I hope everyone else had a more relaxing weekend!  Here's to a great new week - the first full one of our whole new era.

One More Post-Election Reaction

So, I'm still crying about Obama's victory.  This time it was Judith Warner who made me cry.  Usually, I'm not a Judith Warner fan, but I think she really got at something in this column. Thanks to Nicole for pointing my way to it.

A Photo Album

In the final weeks of the election, I stopped reading Jezebel (do you believe it?), but in high-procrastination mode, I went back to it today and found this photo album of election night with the Obamas.  I couldn't get the Flickr link to work, so I'm simply linking to the Jezebel page.

A Few Days Later

So on Wednesday, as part of my post-election re-adjustment, i was watchng Rachel Maddow, and Rachel Maddow says something about how Obama is thinking of Larry Summers for Treasury Secretary and she's all, "Really? Larry Summers? Who said something like girls can't do math?" She was referring to a comment Summers made when he was President of Harvard in which he mused on some biological difference or brain structure thing that made women less successful in math and science. Granted, it was enraging that he said it and he didn't seem to take into account the machismo culture of those fields or the funding structure that makes family life extremely difficult. But when I heard Maddow's comment, I thought, "C'mon Rachel, that's not fair. The guy's already been Treasury Secretary once...."

Which is to say I'm already sick of people second guessing Obama's decisions. In one of the many postmortems of the Clinton administration, I read that one of the problems with the first administration was that all of Clinton's people came in on this huge high as swashbucklers who didn't know the ways and means of Washington and didn't care. They thought they could do things their own way, and so they did. And what did we get with them doing things their own way? We got: Don't ask don't tell, a doomed health care plan and, in 1992, the Contract with America and a Newt Gingrich-Republican-controlled Congress.

So, you know what I say? I say it would be a change for a new administration, a new Democratic administration, to come in and hit the ground running and work the system effectively. There's change from within and change from without and Rahm Emanuel may be a jerk and Lawrence Summers might have been the wrong guy to run Harvard, but they know their fields, government and the economy respectively, and they've proven they know how to get things done within them.

Granted, this might be a little bit of blind faith on my part, but the change we need is not only an end to hyper-partisanship, it's an end to armchair quarterbacking every single decision from day one. Sure, the blogosphere needs words, but it also needs some thoughts. And some patience. Damnit.

Henry Louis Gates, Jr. on President-Elect Obama

The essay is titled "In Our Lifetime."  Here's the link.  It's also featured on Slate.

Well Said About McCain

James Surowiecki's post about McCain's performance last night is short and on target.
David, my husband, often points out that most candidates really start performing well when they know the campaign is lost. Witness Hillary Clinton this past spring. Or Al Gore when the campaign was all over. The stakes go away and suddenly, the candidate can connect. That, too, must have happened for McCain last night.

Just So You Know

Last night, my husband was in Chicago, in Grant Park itself, and my kids, unbelievably, fell asleep at 7:45. That never, ever happens. The problem was I almost fell asleep, too because I'd left the house at 5:45 to vote and it'd been a big long day. I stayed awake, though, and my friend Nicole and her new husband and boyfriend of 19 years Louis came over for a while. So at 10:45 they'd left and I was really working to stay awake when the good anchors at CNN and MSNBC said, "We'll have big news at the top of the hour." And -- can I admit this? -- it did NOT OCCUR TO ME that the big news would be victory. I figured it'd be Florida. Maybe Virginia, but actual calling of the election? I just had no idea. And when it was announced? Sobbing. But who wasn't?

The Onion on The Election

The Quote:
"Another contributing factor to Obama's victory, political experts said, may have been the growing number of Americans who, faced with the complete collapse of their country, were at last able to abandon their preconceptions and cast their vote for a progressive African-American.

Enlarge Image

"After enduring eight years of near constant trauma, the United States is, at long last, ready for equality.

Citizens with eyes, ears, and the ability to wake up and realize what truly matters in the end are also believed to have played a crucial role in Tuesday's election."

Here's the link to the whole thing. Thanks, as ever, to Andrew Sullivan, and, in this case, to my cousin's husband's best friend who was one of the founders of the Onion itself.

Worth Considering

Sullivan posted a round-up of conservative responses to Obama's victory. There's this from John Podhoretz on the race factor and it's worth reading.

The President-Elect

When I was hustling my kids to school this morning, I saw the woman who stood behind me in line to vote yesterday. We smiled at each other and as she came up alongside me, she said, "Wasn't that incredible?"

And it was. The whole thing was incredible. Reading the New York Times this morning, I was reminded of that period in April when I thought maybe Obama would lose, when Michelle Obama went on the Colbert Report and said, "I believe my husband will be President," and I so wanted to believe her, but I wasn't sure. Clinton was coming on strong, there was that whole "bitter" comment about people with guns, Ohio was impossible. Things looked bad. But Obama's dcampaign stayed the course, and now, unbelievably, I feel like we have a President-Elect whose demons seem to run toward the need to control and not the need to unleash. I believe we'll have a president who can actually govern because he will listen, consider, decide, persuade, and lead.

Obama in his speech and in his campaign also reminded me, for one, that the work is done not on the big stage but brick by brick, hand by hand, person by person and that leadership harnesses that work and power asks for help. Can you imagine Cheney thinking power asks for help?

It's a whole new day.

McCain's Concession

McCain's concession speech was eloquent, it was gracious, it was kindly and well-delivered. But, my friends, I didn't care. Because his supporters, with their booing of Obama and their chanting of Palin's name, were what his campaign sowed. It was such an awful campaign that the valedictory remarks of the right-wing pundits rang hollow. Yes McCain had served his country valiantly, but then he ran a small, mean-spirited campaign built on the premise that you do whatever it takes to win and you say with a straight face it's all true and right and honorable. Usually, I feel bad for the person who loses a big contest. Sometimes, I've felt a kind of sadness for McCain. But last night, looking at the crowd of white people on the lawn of an exclusive hotel in Phoenix, hearing them boo the President-Elect, I felt no sympathy. John McCain may be many things, but his personality, not to mention his inner moral compass, did not match the demands of a presidential campaign. Imagine if he had won. No, I felt no sympathy at all, even as I was glad for his elegant words.

Polling

This on the polls from Nate Silver via Sullivan. Good news.   I won't be able to blog much more today since I'll be with my kids and worrying.  

Let's Go Change the World

 Go ahead. Indulge.

Yes We Can!

I got to my voting place at 5:45 and there was already a line.  By the time 6 AM rolled around, it was all the way down the block. Once the doors opened, things moved along, and I got more and more nervous.  I double checked my vote three times, and I felt, I don't know, a lurch as I pulled the red bar to record my vote.  Even now I'm a little worked up.  It'll be a long day, but hopefully, a good one. Good luck to us all.

McCain the Remake, Part 2

A while back, I blogged about what I thought was the very, very beginning of John McCain, revised. This was the man who'd write the memoir and say the mea culpas and insist if it had only been for the town meetings and if only he'd relied on his higher instincts the election would've gone so much better and he wouldn't have to completely rebuild his reputation.  James Fallows (via, who else? Andrew Sullivan) points out that McCain on SNL was a signal that he'd accepted defeat.  I hope he not only accepts it but lives it. And if he does, the show was probably step 2 of his 20 step rehab.  If he doesn't lose, though, I'm never watching SNL again, even though my husband assured me no persuadable voters were watching.

Kristol Meth, Part 7,028

This column made my jaw drop. It is so deeply, profoundly and essentially hypocritical.....I warn you, only read it if you need a good dose of something to get your blood boiling this morning.

A Take on A Real Obama

Andrew Sullivan posted a quote and the link to an essay he wrote for the Sunday Times of London about Obama as president.  It's worth taking a look at.  But when you're done, throw a fistful of salt over your left shoulder to chase away any evil spirits who might nest in your comfortable idea of an Obama victory and ruin the world with McCain/Palin.