Sundays with Stretchy Pants

I voted for Obama and most of Ohio didn’t. I was truly undecided on the issues, so what it really came down to was the fact that his father was a goat herder. Seriously. And now a goat herder’s son is running for president of the United States of golldurned America? That’s some crazy shit, yo. That, and the fact that his kids are about the same age as my kids made me feel like he would be more in touch with me and my family. My dad could’ve been a goat herder. You don’t know.

Here’s a nifty little article that shows each candidate’s net worth. Obama is barely a millionaire. Just like us! We’re barely thousandaires. He feels our pain.

*sigh* Anyway, I’ll totally be on board if Hillary is the candidate. She gave that speech tonight in Columbus right next to Bryan’s building and he called me while he was walking to work from his parking lot several blocks away to tell me about all of the news trucks and whatnot all around. I had to work hard to restrain myself from waking the girls up and speeding down there just to be in it, you know? I got choked up when she talked about hearing from a mom with daughters who were 2 and 4. The mom sent her $10 and told her that she and her daughters cheer and chant for Hillary and, I don’t know, it just choked me up. I mean, she’s a woman. I’m a woman. My daughters will most likely be women. I hate to reduce it to gender, but my goodness it does feel special.

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Ohio’s primaries are tomorrow and I’m still undecided. I’m going to try to definitely decide who to vote for before I vote. I think that’s a good plan. I have goodies from each side because I went to the gallery hop with Alissa and Amy to see Sharon’s and Melissa’s awesome arts all up on display Saturday night (Yay!), and both Hillary’s and Obama’s people were out and about on opposite sides of the street, chanting at each other and everything. It was so cool and so very big city! On the west side of the street, I was sure I was voting for Hillary. The volunteers gave us all stickers and they even gave me three extras for each of my little girls (cuz Hillary’s a girl, you know). Then we ended up on the east side of the street where Obama’s volunteers gave us some stickers *and* a button! A Button! So I wore both stickers and the button and I was confused. And then when I got home and tried to take the stickers off of my sweater, Hillary’s stuck like a mother effer, and Obama’s came off super easy. I keep trying to read more into that. Like political tea leaves or something.

Anyway, I gave the girls their super cool Hillary stickers today. Maya ended up with all of them because Lena and Liberty informed me that they were voting for Obama.

Me: Why Obama?

Lena: Cuz he’s black.

Me: Well, Hillary’s a woman.

Liberty: (excitedly) If there was a black woman, I would pick her! Besides, Hillary already got to live in the White House and Obama never did yet.

I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that same argument on Meet the Press or something.

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I found really cute shoes for $10! This has never, ever happened to me before. Most likely because I don’t like to shop because things are expensive and I am cheap, so my non-shopping around seriously inhibits my ability to find good deals on things I like. Because, let’s face it, it’s not a good deal if you don’t really like it. Anyway, we had to go to the dreaded mall because Liberty wanted to spend her very own money on Yet Another Effin’ Webkinz (didn’t they add “Yet Another Effin’” to the tradename yet? No? They should because I only ever hear people refer to them that way). And the local candy shop place that sells them didn’t have the exact perfect one (I know because they have a hotline you can call. For real.) So we went to the mall and Liberty got Yet Another Effin’ Webkinz. After that, we took Lena to Gamestop where My Precious discovered she didn’t have enough money for Super Mariokart Race Until You Die or whatever. I’ve seen this happen before and I’ve not been very understanding while waiting an hour for her to make the very, very difficult and painful decision to either save her money for another 2 weeks or just buy something else. This time, I decided to save everybody even more turmoil by excusing myself from the situation and leaving her with her father, who can relate to this kind of careful purchasing turmoil, and I ducked into Journeys and found omigod shoes for $10. And I liked them. So much. So much that even though my feet are, ahem, athletic and the shoes on the shelf were all a size smaller than I usually wear, I kept looking at them and fondling them and whispering through my tears, “Why can’t you be a wide size 9? I love you so much. Not just because you’re cheap. I love you for you.” And then I really looked at them and decided they looked big. Just like my feet. And I started to believe that our love could transcend size, so I tried them on. And I was right. Our love is stronger than any measurement, US or European. They’re big. They’re wide. They fit! So I bought them and then I was really high and wanted to go find MORE! bargains because I suddenly found my self-worth as an American woman. I didn’t get the chance to try out my brand-new purchasing power, however, because by the time my transaction was complete, Bryan found me and very wisely distracted me by offering me foodstuffs. He knows his woman.

ETA: I just read the reviews of the shoes at that link that I posted and all of those people who say they feel “true to size” and “true to width” are in serious denial about their shoe size. There is nothing true to either size or width about these lovely, lovely shoes. These regular 8s feel like a wide 9. Heaven.

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The big city? It has a Kroger next door to me that stays open until 1:00am. And when I’m watching a football game and rooting for the team whose win will knock OSU out of the national championship, I get peckish. Especially when that team is losing. And then there are commercials that advertise Dr. Pepper. And Dr. Pepper makes me think of Kettle Cooked Sea Salt and Vinegar chips, even though said chips were not even advertised. And then I think about how it’s fun to run a little bit in the dark and the brisk night air. And then I ask the husband, who is also depressed by the lackluster performance of the team that we want to win so OSU can’t be in the national championship, if he wants a snack too. And of course he does. And I can just run and go get it because adults can do these things if they want to. And the Kroger is still open because it’s the big city and sometimes people, even grown-ass people, need chips and pop at bedtime.

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I just want to say, just like Liberty, I’m very excited for Thanksgiving. We have friends coming to run the Turkey Trot, then we’ll be eating, drinking, and lazing around. What’s not to love? No gifts, no decorating, no pressure. Lots of busyness with the shopping and chopping and cooking and baking, but that’s not pressure. That’s just preparation for feasting. Feasting is my favorite.
I’m extra happy to run the sweet, sweet 5 miles of the Turkey Trot after my last pressure-filled race debacle. Running and I have a precarious relationship that was very much in danger of ending during the summer and early fall. It goes against all of my sports needs: I have no chance of winning, there’s no ball, there’s no one to run away from, there’s no goal to run toward (intrinsic goals don’t count for anything), there’s no opponent to mock (because I have no chance of winning). Also, the really, really good runners look anorexic, and I have a sturdy body type more suited for sports like softball and beer bonging. Anyway, running and I are hesitant with each other at best, so I’m glad to be experiencing some excitement about the Turkey Trot because I feared that the 1/2 marathon might have taken all of the fun out of it. It didn’t. Yay. Happy Thanksgiving!

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I want to thank Nikki and Elizabeth for introducing me to Buckeye Donuts. You guys are assholes. Seriously, I really needed to know of a donut shop that delivers on orders over 5 bucks. I mean, I can eat 5 dollars worth of donuts all by myself so it’s never really a matter of, “Hmm…I’d like a donut, but I don’t really want to go so close to campus to get the best donut ever made, but I don’t want to order $5 worth and have them deliver them. Oh well, I guess I’ll just eat this asparagus instead.” No, it’s more like, “Want donut! Call donut place now!” They really need to up the delivery minimum to, say, $20. That might make me think twice. And hey, Columbus, can we put the word “buckeye” in even more place names around here? Because I’m not sure you’re supporting OSU enough. Buckeye Donuts, Buckeye Auto Glass, Buckeye Cabinetry & Refinishing, Buckeye Laser Printer, Buckeye Drink Your Face Off Bar (north), Buckeye Drink Your Face Off Bar (south), Buckeye Temple, First Unitarian Buckeye Church of the Buckeyes. I get it, Columbus loves them some OSU. It’s sweet. And by “sweet” I mean really annoying to wolverines like me. There are even State Farm Insurance billboards that say, “In case you hit a wolverine.” That’s not funny. We’re not afraid of you! And what kind of a mascot is a buckeye anyway? “Oh no, it’s a buckeye! Watch out, it’s poisonous and you might get a tummy ache or a rash!” Do you know what happens if you come across a wolverine? It eats your face and you never get it back. That’s all I’m saying.

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