Resigned...and yet heartened

I mean, I'm as liberal as the next Mondale supporter, but I think that fighting the impending nomination of John Roberts is futile and impractical. This is assuming, of course, that the French Fry-eating teen and the brief mention in favor of a ban on federally-funded abortion-related counseling are the biggest bombshells we can find on Judge Roberts...sans a neo-con smoking gun, or, say, the malicious and irresponsible outing of an undercover government agent, he looks like the guy.

Seriously, this is not that bad. In fact, it's probably the best solution yet. So, like it or not, and believe me I don't, it's their turn to pick, and I think choosing a candidate who does not ostracize everyone to the left of Tucker is the smartest thing that W's done since giving up blow.

This may cheer those who are still bereft: while in private practice, Roberts represented 19 states that, along with the federal government, sought to break up Microsoft Corporation. So this may work out for the best.

So, let's all take off the whiny hat for a while, and take this for what it appears to be - not the worst of all possible worlds.

For now, anyway...

Psycho-chick

You know, it makes me feel infinitely better to know that I am one of apparently a generation (or more) of woman who have had that psycho-chick feeling and acted on it. Whether it was for a moment, a weekend, or a semester (gulp), it makes me feel better to know that it was all of us, at one time or another...Either stalking the streets of a college town, staring in bar windows, looking for your ex and his new girlfriend, or running to a frat house in the middle of a snow storm, pounding on the door until someone lets you into your boyfriend's room where you wait for him to come home (the next morning, mind you), or what have you...While it's nothing to be proud of, most certainly...we are human. And we were in our early twenties. And probably on antidepressants (or should have been). Being able to look back on that makes you realize that you are so not that girl anymore, and it's hard to remember what it felt like to be her, which can make you sad and yet somehow relieved. And having those moments (weeks, whatever, who's counting?) of idiocy, and living through them and moving past them, and being able to laugh at yourself...well, that's not so bad.

Especially when your husband thinks it's funny too.