Wuv.

Happy V-day, everyone. Remember: you get chocolate even if you don’t have a valentine.

So. Awesome.

OK, this has already been posted everywhere, but on the off-chance that you haven’t seen it yet, SEE IT NOW:

(If you haven’t seen the Obama video of which this is a spoof, you can watch that here.)

Back to the grindstone

Well, that was a lovely little break. Of course, we picked one of the coldest weekends of the year to go up to a cabin in the northernmost part of Minnesota. (It was below zero pretty much the whole time, and as we were packing up to go on Sunday the temperature was around -20. That’s NOT including windchill.) I slept in head-to-toe polar fleece underneath 5 blankets and a down comforter, and the thermostat had a hard time keeping up with the blizzard-level winds coming through the chinks in the walls. But it didn’t matter. We kept cozy with a fire going in the fireplace and the wood stove, and talked and listened to cheesy 80s music, and danced tipsily around the living room, and read trashy novels and even trashier magazines, and drank wine and ate junkfood and just generally caroused. You know, there aren’t many people with whom I’d want to be stuck in a remote cabin in the woods for 48+ hours. But – surprisingly – these three women make the cut. I say “surprisingly” because I’m not sure any of us would have predicted, four years ago, that we’d keep up this yearly tradition. We all used to work at the same corporation (only one of us is still there) and were drawn together by a variety of experiences. We’ve kept in touch over the years, but it’s not like we see each other often – in fact, I hadn’t seen one of the group for nearly a year. And we’re all very different personalities, with strong opinions that we’re not afraid of expressing. I imagine someone looking at us from the outside wouldn’t guess that we’re well suited to spend isolated weekends together. But we really are: we never run out of things to talk about; we can get into arguments without anyone taking it personally; we’re all good at sharing the cooking and cleaning chores; and we can all let each other be when needed. And (perhaps more importantly) we’re also damned interesting, witty, fun and nice. This is our third year of having a “retreat” (we skipped last year because of scheduling and babies) and it’s an emerging tradition that I really hope lasts as long as we can manage it. Because friends like that are rare finds.

Gone Fishin’

This afternoon I am heading up north with three girlfriends to spend the weekend at a lake cabin. I will eat food without having to share it, read non-board books, drink liquor, and swear a lot. It will be grand. Please send loving thoughts to Mr. Squab, who is staying home with the Hatchling. Have a good weekend!

We pause for this brief message from our sponsors

Happy 30th Birthday, Mr. Squab!!

We’re sure glad you were born.

Civic mucous

Christ, I forgot what it was like to REALLY have a cold. I’ve had some mini-colds this year, some colds-manqué, if you will, but this is my first kick-you-in-the-ass cold in a while, and it SUCKS. I’m slowly recovering, but yesterday I pretty much felt like I was going to die all day long, and you know what’s AWESOME when you feel like death warmed over? Watching a toddler! No, I kid: it really is no fun whatsoever. Fortunately (?) she’s sick, too, so we were both pretty low key. By which I mean we spent a shocking percentage of the day slumped over on the sofa watching Elmo’s World and Teletubbies. Well: the Hatchling watched them and I kind of dozed. Qualitee parenting is my watchword!

Today I felt semi-human, so at 6:30 pm I trekked on over to my polling place and holy CRAP were there a lot of people there! It was pretty cool standing in line with this array of races, classes, ages, backgrounds (I live in a very diverse district), many of whom were caucusing for the first time. Everyone seemed excited to be there, to be participating. The people running the caucus were completely unprepared for the numbers that showed up – they ran out of ballots and had to hand people slips of torn-off paper; they had people signing in on notebooks; they had to quickly move the caucus itself to a larger room to accommodate the crowds. Over 500 people showed up at my caucusing place, and overwhelmingly voted for Obama. (I voted for Clinton, but will very happily vote for Obama in the national election should that be my option.) About 100 people stuck around for the actual caucus, where it was nice (but not too surprising) to see that I live in a pretty progressive district: we passed resolutions in favor of universal health care, increased funding for education, civil unions for gay couples, and abolishing the electoral college (!). All in all, a very satisfying experience in civic duty.

I hab a code

Mucous will be heavy. Posting will be light.

Disappointing

This may have just convinced me to vote for Hillary.

How to drive your mamala over the edge in 10 simple steps

1. Wake up at 5:15 in the morning. Refuse to go back to bed.
2. Eat next to nothing for breakfast, so you’re both tired AND hungry.
3. Ask to go down for a nap at 9:30, stay quiet in your room just long enough to convince the mamala that you’re actually sleeping, then shatter those illusions after 25 minutes by shouting “MAAA! MAA! MAAAAA!” until she comes in and get you.
4. Refuse to get out of your crib so you can get dressed and changed like a normal person.
5. When the mamala decides it’s not worth fighting over and begins changing you in your crib, pee all over the sheets in the 1.5 seconds your butt is bare between diapers.
6. When the mamala takes you out of your crib to change the sheets, run into the bathroom (foolishly left open) and throw a highlighter into the toilet.
7. While the mamala is taking the highlighter out of the toilet, run into the sunroom and start playing with the container of screws and other choking hazards daddy has left on the desk.
8. When the mamala takes the choking hazards away from you, run BACK into the bathroom (still open) and start dumping Q-tips into the toilet.
9. Once the mamala has finally gotten a grip and closed the damn doors and brought you into her room while she gets dressed, somehow find a random cough drop from god knows where (under the bed? behind the lamp?) and try to eat it, wrapper and all.
10. Insist on going downstairs all by yourself, giving your mamala several strokes as you teeter and totter all the way down.

And that was just up to 10:30 am. I’m pretty sure the mamala is going to need a beer before the day is done.

See, now, THIS is the stuff that makes me want to vote for her

I admit it: I’m already getting election fatigue. I honestly DO NOT CARE which of the top two democratic candidates gets the nod. Really! I will be all too happy to vote for either one of them! I’m just so tired of the campaigning and trying to keep track of who’s gone more stupidly negative this week. I really don’t know what I’ll do come Tuesday. Flip a coin? Eeeny-meeny-miny-mo?

But I’ll tell you what, I’m just enough of a contrarian that reading stuff like this makes me want to vote for Hillary JUST TO SHOW THEM. A sampling of some of the slogans available on everything from bumper stickers to tee-shirts:

“Just vote for the bitch”
“Monica Lewinsky’s ex-boyfriend’s wife for president,”
“No Penis, No Problems”
“H08!”
“This Woman Scares Me”
“Anyone But Her ’08”
“Even Bill Doesn’t Want Me,”
“Stop Mad Cow,”
“Stop the Beast”
“Two fat thighs, two small breasts and a bunch of left wings.”
“Wanna See Hillary Run? Throw Rocks at Her!”
“I Wish Hillary Had Married O.J.”

Kind of makes you feel sick, doesn’t it?