The caucus craze continues with house parties, canvasses, and meetings, meetings, meetings…

I did want to share a couple of links of stuff I’ve read recently that totally nail why I’m so excited about the possibility of a Barack Obama nomination for president.

The first was this article in The Atlantic Monthly and the second was a recent article about Michelle Obama in Salon.

I was actually at one of the events they talked about in the Salon article and the author totally nailed it–that woman is a hugger and she has absolutely amazing shoes.

I’ve been thinking about sustainability and my footprint on life…is it a shadowy indication or a boot print?

Last week at work we were offered free mugs if we would use them instead of paper cups. I’m pretty proud–since then I haven’t used a paper cup and I’ve even gone without buying bottles of pop, instead getting a soda refill in my mug.

Now, I’m sure I’m going to forget my mug at some point, but I have to admit that right now I’m feeling pretty darned smug about it all!

I was talking to my dad last night about money (my least favorite topic, although the one I expend the most emotional energy on!). He told me that at one point he and my mom went for a month without spending any money. I’ve been thinking a lot about that–could I actually do it? Not spending any money, does that mean having to bring my lunch every day? Do I actually have that much food in my house? Does it count if I do a big stock-up before I start my month?

Will I die without In Touch magazine for a whole month? That, my friends, is the real question.

Twelve months ago I was starting to think that maybe I should look into having a baby on my own.

Pretty quickly a bunch of stuff happened, not the least of which was meeting a really great guy. Things continued to happen. My brother got married, my best friend called me to say that she and her husband were expecting again, I interviewed for a job I really thought I wanted…
Then some things started to turn on their head. Some good, some not so much. I didn’t get the job, but discovered that I really like what I do. My brother and SIL announced that a baby was due between Christmas and New Years.

Then my friend announced that there was something wrong with the baby. Ultimately it was determined that she had Down Syndrome. Thankfully, she seems really healthy otherwise. She’s going to be born in just a couple of weeks and I’m so excited about her getting here. And she’s going to be my goddaughter and frankly, I’m a pretty darned good godmother.

And then there was the relationship–which I feel so lucky to have had, but it ended a couple of weeks ago. It was my first serious relationship and so this is my first serious break-up. I’m not sure how I’m feeling about it–it was the right thing, but it’s a lot harder than I thought it might be.

So, things are plugging along, but I can’t always talk about them right away.

There are many, many awesome things about living in an early caucus state, but one thing I don’t enjoy very much are the robocalls. Now that the Democrats have more money than God, they can afford to do all of these new-fangled communication methods and in a given week you can get quite a few of these babies piling up on your answering machine.

But this week MY candidate is coming to town. At a planning meeting with the national advance team I made a bold statement. I said that if we could do it without a robocall, I’d even make calls and I HATE making calls.

So the plan was no robocall…fast forward a few days and I’m sitting there contemplating my call list with about 40 names on it and despite the fact that about half of them are close friends or co-workers I absolutely cannot make myself do it. I have complete and utter social anxiety about the whole thing.

And so I backed out.

So tonight I get the call from the organizer and she says “I’m sorry, but we have to do the robocall, but…you get to do it!”

And here’s the funny thing–I was totally into it. When I called my sister all excited about how I got to do the robocall she started laughing at me. And it is funny–here I was trying to avoid it at all cost and now I’m pulling the trigger.

So, coming soon to an answering machine near you:

“Hi, this is Rachel…I’m calling to invite you down to see Barack Obama, this Thursday night…”

(I’m Rachel and I approve this message.)

I was in Chicago last week for work. I got back to Minneapolis Saturday night, got a coffee to get me awake for my drive home, went down to baggage claim and saw the young boy who had been sitting in front of me on my flight from Chicago standing there as the bags went around on the carousel.

I kind of kept my eye on him because I had been at the gate when his parents had been asking just where he was flying to, which seemed like a strange question, but all I got from the overheard conversation was that he was 15 and flying alone. On the flight the woman next to him chatted him up–he was a freshman and coming to St. Paul to go to school. Anyway, now he was alone at the baggage claim and trying to find his bag, which didn’t seem to be appearing. I tried to help him which basically consisted of following him to the lost luggage claim and then watching as a very nice Northwest employee went back to help him. I had asked if someone was meeting him and he said yes, so I felt like I probably had done what I could and headed off to my off-site parking shuttle.

I got there and started wondering where I had put my keys…opened up my zipped compartments in my purse and then had a flash…of putting them in the drawer in the bureau in the hotel room.

Yes, I exclaimed “shit” loudly to the shuttle driver and then hauled my stuff back off the shuttle and went back in the airport to call the hotel, call to get a second set of keys to the car from work and then my sister, who thankfully is coming up here tomorrow and can bring me the keys.

The housekeeping staff reported that I had left two sets of keys, a pair of underwear, my checkbook and an iPod case…and of course my iPod had been in the drawer too, but it was not there, but I had kind of assumed that might be the case.

At least I was flying back to the town where my parents live and although they were at my aunt and uncle’s house they have now locked themselves out enough that they leave a key in the garage. One short cab ride later I was sitting at their house, drinking a beer and wondering just how I got so damned stupid.

And I liked my little iPod. Oh well.

PS: I e-mailed the general manager at the very famous hotel I stayed at to appraise him of the iPod situation. I will report back my findings as soon as I hear something.

I’ve been feeling a bit guilty because all summer long I’ve been using my dryer.  This has happened for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was having surgery, which basically precluded me from carrying my wet laundry downstairs to the clothesline.  So, here it is the end of August and I’ve only hung my laundry out once.

Fast forward to yesterday.  Gorgeous day.  It’s been raining here for a week, but the weekend was just lovely.  Sunday morning we skipped church (v. v. bad, I know) and watched Six Feet Under while I washed clothes.  And then I hung them out.  Glorious.

Except I did not plan properly and did not get them taken down.  And when I got home last night they were already damp from the dew and I should have taken them down and popped them in the dryer for a few minutes, but I didn’t because the stars were out and glorious.  Absolutely glorious.

I woke up about 4 am this morning with a little distant thunder.  Then it was closer.  Then the rain was really coming down.

People, I’m telling you know–it’s hailing.

Hail.

I’m going back to the dryer.  If I ever find my clothes again.

I got up this morning and checked some of my regular reads to find multiple posts from friends about someone in our circle who died yesterday.  It’s not the first time someone I knew online has died–frankly, it’s not even the first friend from this group of friends to pass away, but it’s always this weird solitary experience.  Maybe you get a phone call, but more likely than not you read about it when you’re getting up in the morning to get your cup of coffee.

And what do you say later that day when someone asks?  My friend died.  Oh, how did you know her?

Well, I used to write a lot of fan fiction for the X-Files and would sometimes fly around the country to spend the weekend in a college dorm or at an extended stay suite hotel with a bunch of other people who loved nothing more than Mulder and Scully.

Right.

No, you smile and say "we went to summer camp together" or "we met at Wellesley" or something else like that.

I hadn’t seen Sallie for a few years (and really, aren’t these online friends real especially once we’ve all done the face to face thing?) and I have to admit I always really, really wanted to get her out here to God’s Country because she had a busy, busy life with kids and job and lots of running around and I could just envision us all gathered here on the prairie where I live sipping coffee and…talking about Mulder and Scully.

Thank you for your friendship Sallie and I bet you found Kim right away…

I am going to admit this right here and right now–I’ve never read Harry Potter.

Okay, that is a slight lie.  I tried to read the first book once and I did see the first movie, but I not only haven’t read them, but I don’t even really know who the characters are when everyone talks about them.

And this is yet another one of those "wow, we’re different" moments with my dear boyfriend.  And I love that he’s into it and he’s been EXTREMELY tolerant of my daily viewing of the Tour de France and how I ripped into Floyd Landis’ memoir.

But what really blew me away about the whole Potter thing is that I was at a party last night with 8 other people.  Somehow the subject came up and the person next to me said "I’ve never read those books" and then as we slowly went around the room it turned out that NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON HAD!  And we’re not all exactly the same–I mean, other than all being academics and in our mid 30s.

I have to admit that it was a bit comforting to me because I was starting to feel like the only person on the face of the earth who isn’t reading the books.

But, honestly–I’m okay with it.  And I’m telling you right now–I fell asleep during Pirates of the Carribbean cause I really and truly am…THAT PERSON.

I use a Nibelung ring to look at my journals and blogs and I include my own in the ring, if for no other  reason than to shame me about how long it’s been since I’ve written anything.

So, for the past week or so every single day (or twelve times a day–I’ve been on the computer a lot lately) I see my last headline and thing "Sure you can–but should you?"

Anyway, the recovery has been going pretty well.  I mean, other than having developed a bit of a crush of Phil Liggett and not being able to skip Bob Roll’s commentary in the evening, I’m doing just fine.

And that sentence is clearly a sign that I might be losing my mind because it’s clear fact that not only am I watched the Tour de France every single day, but I’m watching the enhanced coverage again in the evening.  And I’d like to say that it’s because of the drugs and not being able to focus, but I stopped taking them last week.

And now I’m on to some other really, really lovely drugs because I’ve got a little infection going on in the incision.  Most of it looks just absolutely gorgeous and then there’s this little spot about 2/3rd of the way down that is just NOT lovely.  And because of its unlovely weepiness I’m now the proud owner of 28 Augementin pills.  Which are HUGE!  Why is that the lovely pain drugs were small and made me feel good and these are for horses and I have to take two and then will make me feel BAD!?!?!?!

The pharmacists said taking them twelve hours apart was the key, so I’ve decided to go with 7:30 and 7:30…you know during my two Tour de France viewing periods.  Maybe I can name each dose after a small town in France and it’ll taste better…

The directions from the hospital said to not drive while taking narcotics, but it said nothing about blogging, so here I am…

All procedures went swimmingly well, although I was a bit disappointed to find out that the cyst was only 6.5 lbs after the ultrasound tech said she’d seen ones that were like 25 lbs.  I was hoping for some instant weight loss!  But I am happy to report that between the cyst and the hospital, I am down 10 lbs total from where I started last Wednesday.

The pain has not been totally horrendous, other than in the transitions like going from sitting to standing or getting in and out of bed (absolutely the worst).  I did have a moment last night where I was pretty sure I was going to have to sleep in the recliner because there was no way I could get myself down lying flat in the bed.

I feel truly lucky to live close enough to a world class medical facility so I could have this surgery done there, parents who were able to take time out of their lives to take care of me even though I’m way, way past childhood, a sister who jumped right in and took care of my dog (my greatest worry, honestly) and a boyfriend who hasn’t questioned any of my weird requests and runs to get me whatever I ask for.

Now, if I could just find some damned Sugar Babies, the world would be perfect!!!!