I am NOT an asshole. Surgically Speaking.: November 2008

There's quite a few of you that I talk to on a regular basis. And periodically (or, as some of you may attest to, way too frequently) I forget to call someone back. Or text back. And I do mean quite literally in the middle of conversation.
For instance, a quick phone call from someone, and I have to take care of something really quick, and I say i'll call you right back.
And then I don't.
I'd like you all to know, that when I finally do get back to you, and tell you that i fell asleep...I am not exaggerating.
Thanks to my roomie, we now have photographic evidence of this phenomena. (see that little silver spot by my arm? Yep. Thats my phone. Laying there opened. Ready to call. SEE! I had good intentions.

Through this whole campaign, I kept pretty low-key. I felt with absolute certainty who I WANTED and who SHOULD be elected. But I never boasted about it, or bragged, or preached. I'd been disappointed too many times by my own country. I'd been betrayed and disillusioned by not ONE bad election, but TWO back-to-back bad elections during the first years that I was even able to vote.
What did I matter? What did my voice mean? Obviously, not a whole lot.
I kept low-key b/c I didn't want to be so disappointed again by a slap in the face from the rest of my fellow Americans.
Its alot like the battle with cancer. I am cautious now. More-so than I may have been in yearspast. I do not like to get my hopes up b/c I've grown accustomed to expecting the worst (and then hoping for the best later).

But tuesday night??!

Maaaannn, tuesday night dreams came true, hope came back, faith was renewed. I never in my 28 years uttered the words "I'm proud to be an american" without laughing sarcastically, or sneering.

And tuesday night?!?

Tuesday night I sat in the McDonalds on Chicago Ave. at almost midnight with close to 200 other people of all shapes, sizes, class, race, gender, age, and background. Before I even realized I was saying it, the words "My president is gonna make the world proud of us. We did it" tumbled out of my mouth.
I actually needed to stop mid-sentence and think about the words again to myself...."MY president..."
Not "THIS president" or "That dickface in the whitehouse". No, no, no..."MY president"

Maaaaannnnn, it felt good. It felt damned good. Good enough to want to pump my fist and chant USA! USA! USA! (luckily I caught myself and checked that before I made a scene in McDonalds). Besides, I was plenty tired from screaming and cheering and running up and down Grant Park in sequin flats and a mini-skirt to really do much more than smile and keep sipping my vita-water.

The world is not perfect yet. Peace on earth doesn't yet exist. Hell, the very next day my damn fridge stopped working and I started my day by having to toss out all the food in it. Things are still going wrong. But at least now, we're on the right path again.
We've been off-course for a long time now, so we've got a while to travel back before we can start moving forward. Alot of wounds to heal & mistakes to apologize for. But DAMN it feels good to be on that track.

As a good friend of mine said once, about a completely different situation, but which fits just as well for this moment: "It's like a long cool drink of water after a hard journey through the desert."

OBAMA! Thanks for the drink man. We needed it.