nah nah nah nah
hey hey hey
bye bye Bush.
hello Obama.
my dreamboat.
I was considering writing about how my my man, kid and cat took turns vomiting all day yesterday and that I was personally puked on three times, but today trumps everything.
Oh this man. Oh his vision. Oh my hope. For my generation and my bug’s. Even rhea and puke can’t keep me from that ninth cloud.
We watched the whole thing at the museum this morning over a mimosa potluck. And then we watched Obama’s speech again on youtube. At first, while watching the millions on the Mall, I was thinking why the hell am I not there? but then, I just plain loved where I was. With my incredible co-workers in our contemporary art museum in a cold, smallish western Montana city. And, well, I pretty much swelled and welled the the entire morning.
Tonight, our non-puking family unit went to a party at a friend’s house. And, Andy and I wore our wedding attire. LOVE my man in his suit. Some might say we were overdressed (in Missoula it isn’t uncommon for folks to wear jeans to a formal attire affair). But, it just somehow seemed appropriate for a variety of reasons. To tell ya honest (that is what Andy says) I wanted to wear my dress and I politely asked Andy to not make me go to a party without a date in a suit and he lovingly obliged. My dress hasn’t come off of that hangar in nearly four years and still has mud on the hem and is a *scosh* pitted out. I loved my wedding and I love my dress.
First, I was psyched it fit. Second, I didn’t care that all of the crowd was not in wedding gowns. Third, I had a giant zit exposed by my strapless number and whatev. There really is a whole new security that comes with 30ness and I am almost 31 so I am like way more mature than 30. I nearly dropped my man and kid at home post-party to join some ladies downtown, but, a few hours sipping champagne and gallivanting about on icy streets in my wedding dress was all I needed tonight. Yes, 30 is different in other ways too…Although I did hang with my lady friends and sing karaoke until 1:30am on Saturday night at the VFW.
Also during my night as a Patsy Cline and Madonna super star, I received a sweet handbag gift from my dear friend. The clutch is beautiful and went magically with my gown.
CHEERS to a new life for us all (although, Mr. Obama, I understand it will take time and while the entire universe is hoping you can fix all the ickiness that festered and rooted over the last decade, I know you are human, although at times I wonder. But still, I heard your message today: It is my responsibility too. It is our collective effort that will sucker punch those roots as if they were leafy spurge on Mount Sentinel).
