cupcake politics

this made all the TV ads worth it.

the government is falling, the government is falling!

all the talk around the office today was government shut down: will they or won't they?

i thought it would be sort of great, because who doesn't want a surprise vacation, but today i found out that i would probably still have to go to work even if the government "shut down," so now i think they should just work it out already. if i don't get a trip to costa rica out of it, it's not worth it.

also today i had four extremely violent cases of the hiccups.

but i guess john boehner doesn't care about that.

mourn with those that mourn

like just about everyone else, i have been totally horrified and, frankly, disgusted by the shooting of representative giffords in arizona a few days ago.

to be perfectly honest, i have sort of been ignoring the whole thing because i would rather not believe that things like that happen in modern, advanced society. and then when i do think about it i get really worked up and try to find people and things to blame, and then i get really depressed because, whether there is a place to lay blame or not an awful thing happened. and none of this strikes me as a particularly healthy cycle.

i did venture out to do a little reading on the whole sad thing today, though, and came across this piece, written a few years ago by susan klebold, the mother of one of the columbine shooters, dylan klebold. it is honest and heartfelt and terribly sad and completely captivating. and for lack of a better way to describe a complicated thing, it gave me a new sense of perspective about tragedies such as these.

it is easy for us to say someone is a monster after they have done a monstrous thing, but i think it is reasonable for a mother or father who has raised a son or daughter with nothing but love to disbelieve that their child could ever do such a thing, and blaming those mothers and fathers, or friends or teachers or guidance counselors for "missing something" seems cruelly unfair.

and it is easy for us to loudly blame violent video games and inflamed political rhetoric and those are things that we do need to talk about in an open and reasonable way. but we also need to talk about the kind of individual human suffering that might lead a person to do something like shoot their fellow students or their elected representative. and to recognize the suffering that those people and their actions leave behind, for everyone. perhaps we forget too quickly that their family and friends are victims, too, that their suffering will also be deep and long.

i can't begin to imagine how difficult it was for susan klebold to relive long enough to put down on paper the events that ended her son's life, and many other lives as well. and i admire her immensely for doing that even for people who demonized and blamed her. maybe we think it will make us feel better to point a finger and assign some accountability, as if perhaps that will allow us to walk away from something awful feeling somehow better.

but i think that that is wrong. i am not totally sure what is right, but i suspect it involves embracing both tragedy and all the people it touches. and then feeling sorry that it has to touch anyone at all.

working for the weekend

my weekend started at approximately 12:01 on thursday night/friday morning, as i nestled into my movie theater seat for the midnight screening of harry potter. thanks to a very strict nap and caffeine dosage schedule, AWD and i stayed awake the whole time. i consider this a major accomplishment.

friday was empanadas and cupcakes for dinner with a side of surprise visitors (my favorite!) and saturday was a whirlwind of brunch for kellee's birthday, a capitol tour with uncle bob, dinner and a movie. sunday was an even bigger whirlwind of 16 favorite cousins in town.

i sort of feel like i need a nap.

i would tell you the heart-stopping details of how uncle bob almost didn't make it to the capitol tour (my heart, at least, felt like it might stop), but i think he might be a little embarassed about that, so instead i will tell you the origin of the phrase "red tape." as in bureacratic red tape. or cutting through the red tape. which is probably a more interesting story anyway.

in the basement of the capitol there is a room called the folding room. this is the room where, in the olden days, legislation that was about to be introduced on the floor was printed, folded according to some apparently highly complicated procedure, and then wrapped in a piece of... wait for it... red tape. the carefully printed, folded and taped legislation would be taken by the legislator to the floor, where he (or she) would cut the red tape to open it up and read it. legislation that was never introduced never made it through the red tape.

neato, right?

and now, seriously. i think i am going to take a nap.

happy picnic, mr. president

yesterday was $1 smoothie day at robeck's. so that's always a good day.

and tuesday was the congressional families picnic at the white house. so that's always a good day, too.






last year, as you might recall, this happened:



this year i got another handshake, but only had time to snap this little number before el presidente was whisked away.




because, you see, the obamas were late to this year's picnic (not like there is oil leaking into the gulf or anything else that might take their time) and michelle had a bad cold, so she didn't meet the assembled crowd at all and the mister worked his way through pretty quickly.

seriously, though, even a fast handshake is enough to put me in cardiac arrest. i just sure do love that obama.

other handshakes of the night: nancy pelosi, al franken (and his wife. guess what her name is? frances!), barney frank and rahm emanuel, who is shorter than you think he is, but also much less vitriolic.

the biggest drama of the evening actually unfolded before we even left the house, with a very spirited discussion of what everyone was wearing. heidi had on too much jewelry (i actually thought it looked fine but she took some off), heather wasn't wearing enough (she put on what heidi took off), i looked like i was going to church (i changed) and why was aunt joyce the only one of us ladies wearing pants? (she didn't change.) the vote was split on uncle bob's baseball cap (he ended up not wearing it, and also did not take my advice that a cowboy hat might be the way to go), it was pointed out that nathan was wearing the same shirt he has worn to the picnic three years running, and we spent a long time talking about whether beth should just be allowed to wear her princess outfit to the white house, or if we should put her in a real dress. the real dress won, sort of. because halfway through dinner she was wearing this.




following the theme of "taste of the states," there was food from all different regions of the u.s., with the pecan pie being the clear winner for deliciousness.








there were condolences all around for uncle bob, and we told the kids to soak it all in because it was our last chance. at least until one of them is elected to the senate (or the presidency!) some day. because if al franken can get elected, there is hope for the bennett dynasty yet.

bob's your uncle

aunt joyce greeted me this morning with a big hug to say thanks for the flowers and cookies i left on the kitchen table last night. really, it was nothing. i just figured if i was the one coming home after a hard-fought re-election campaign that ended in insane tea party activists (i'm looking at you, brother beck) taking over the GOP convention and knocking me out of the race, i might like to find some flowers on my kitchen table.

so, there's that.

the news that uncle bob was voted out of the convention on saturday was sad to be sure, because it means that the crazies, with all their dirty campaigning and misappropriated facts came out ahead. (have you started planning your escape in the event that sarah palin is elected president? i am not joking here, people. i will be moving to mexico. see you there.)

but it was also sad because uncle bob is just one of the best people you will ever meet, and it is nice to see good people finish ahead whether you agree with their politics or not. and let's be honest, there is a lot about uncle bob's politics with which i disagree. but i also happen to know that he is an honest man of utmost integrity who has only ever done what he thought was best for his state and his country. he said it best himself when he told the gathered crowd that he wouldn't have cast a single vote differently, even if he had known then that it would cost him his career now. something tells me that is more than his opponents will ever be able to say.

and on a more personal note, he has obviously showed nothing but endless kindness and generosity to me (i've lived with him twice, remember?) and i can tell you without a doubt that he has one of the biggest hearts around.

in short, convention results aside, i think uncle bob has every reason to be proud. and i am certainly proud to call him my uncle.

what healthcare reform and baked goods have in common

last night at dinner i interrupted a long and increasingly convoluted conversation about healthcare reform (is there any other kind?) to talk about the impending office christmas cookie exchange.

the office christmas cookie exchange, i explained, goes like this.

everyone who wants to participate bakes cookies.

everyone who baked cookies gets together to trade cookies.

everyone who baked cookies goes home with new, delicious cookies.

"oh," saith uncle bob. "sounds like a healthcare exchange."

but, i continued, i am pretty sure that the rules aren't actually going to be enforced and that everyone is going to come in and eat cookies, whether they baked them or not. so, some people bake, but all people eat.

"oh," saith uncle bob. "sounds like the public option."

rimshot, heyo!

ba-rock my world

{i couldn't have said it better myself}

i spent a lot of time tearing up yesterday. happy tears all around.

i teared up while i watched barack obama's inaugural speech.

i teared up when i read the transcript of it a few hours later.

i teared up thinking about michelle obama holding the lincoln bible.

i teared up thinking of the responsibility we all have to make this country great, or at least to make it better.

i teared up thinking about a historic election, and a historic president, who makes a lot of us want to take that responsibility a lot more seriously.

i teared up (laughing) at the final compilations of bush-isms. (he's right, you know. it is hard to put food on your family.)

i teared up thinking about two little girls who are proud of their daddy.

i teared up wishing i had hit up uncle bob sooner for primo inauguration tickets. (but he looked pretty snazzy in that white scarf, eh?)

so, needless to say, i've been pretty happy with the way things have gone down so far, presidentially speaking, and, though it's not an easy row to hoe, i have a lot of optimism about things to come.

there is just one thing missing. if only there was some way i could express how i feel through stylish and quirky footwear.

oh wait.

there is.