Do you ever feel that the stars are lined up against you? That you can’t win in your own life? That God has it in for you?
I have to say, that I have felt that way on more than one occasion. On more than one occasion a day on bad days.
I often feel like I’m between a rock and an electric place
Photo Credit: comandoxtreme.xtgem.com
Some days I know that God is out to get me. But I never really thought there was anything I could do about it. I mean, I’m me, and God, well, God is God. He rules.
Right?
Well maybe not. Because you see, an Israeli man has filed a restraining order against God. True story! Because sometimes, God is abusive. And if God can’t be nice, He needs to keep His distance. At least 300 feet away — that’s the usual distance abusive men must respect.
Tomorrow morning, I will leave for work not completely accessorized. Not being much of a fashionista, that’s not normally a problem. But tomorrow I will stop to make sure I have the perfect accessory:
It’s Super Tuesday, and Virginia is in with the in crowd of mostly southern states holding their primaries.
Strangely, here in Virginia, it doesn’t feel much like there is an election coming up. TV ads are not constant, and while we’ve been getting a lot of campaign calls, there aren’t any more annoying calls than usual.
Most unusual is the almost complete lack of political signs. For the past 8 years, there have been far more political signs than voters around here. The absence of them, without any sort of ordinance prohibiting them, makes me think that everyone around me is secretly supporting Donald Dfrump.*
Anyway, I’m sure you’re dying to know: I’m voting for Hillary.
Philosophically, I’m really in Bernie’s camp. I’d love government-sponsored healthcare. I’d love to make college free. I would love to erase income inequality.
But I’m a pragmatist.
Even if Bernie could get elected (and I don’t agree with pundits that claim he can’t), well, I spent 10 years watching the sausage mill that is our government. And I simply don’t think Bernie can do it.
Hillary Clinton has my vote because I think she will be a good president. Because she’s smart and capable. Because she knows the system inside, outside and upside and downside.
Is she perfect? Is she my dream candidate? Nope. I was for Obama in 2008 (actually, I wanted him to be my candidate beginning in 2004).
I am not blind to the problems with her. I would rather a flawed candidate than one who is promising more than he can deliver.
And I think that Hillary can beat Trump or whichever GOP candidate is vomited out of a brokered convention.
So early tomorrow, I will cast my vote and get my sticker.
ElectionsMatter.Makeyourvoiceheard.
* If you haven’t seen John Oliver’s show on Donald Trump, get yourself some popcorn:
Comedy and life works in threes. Today was no exception.
Or maybe it’s just a weird day.
You see, every morning I check reports on the status of the DC area’s Metro system. I don’t take Metro — it doesn’t go anywhere near where I live. But for some reason, I get notice of Metro problems hours before everyone else. So I pass them on to my friends and colleagues so they know whether or not to drink that coffee.
So I know from my personal observational study that the DC Metro is a mess. My friends are frequently stranded, late to work because of one delay after another. Forced to Uber to the office when the system lets them down.
Next, I learned that President Obama is considering a surprise guy to replace Antonin Scalia on the US Supreme Court — GOP Nevada Governor and gun-control opponent, Brian Sandoval, a “centrist” former federal judge. I am hoping that this was a ploy to force the Senate Obstructionists to stamp their feet and make it clear (OK, more clear) that the GOP is holding their breath until they turn blue.
That background should be red, don’t cha think? Google Image. Or perhaps Smirf
A pouty Smurf. I couldn’t decide which one was more GOP-like. Although I seriously doubt the GOP wears the white hat… Google Image. Because how much time do you think I have for these posts?
I drove home through a nasty storm — and wanted nothing more than to watch last night’s Stephen Colbert show.
Where a fun band played. But I was confused.
First of all, the group’s name is the “Violent Femmes” — and the band members were three men. I was confused — and it wasn’t just that my French sucks. Because “Femmes” means women. Really. It’s one of the three french words that I’m certain of.
But the weirdest part was that they had rather unusual percussion.
Because they get stuck in them.
FiftyFourandAHalf 