Hope Springs Eternal.

Yes we can, and yes we did.

It’s the dawning of a new day here in America.  I must say, I’m a bit dehydrated from all the tears of joy I shed on my couch last night, watching Obama’s victory speech. Surely that man was born in a manger.

I must admit, I was a little nervous all day remembering some of the ugly antics of the 2000 election… the hanging chads, the voter fraud, the thousands of democrats who were prevented from voting. Especially now that our voting system is so highly computerized, I definitely had moments of doubt yesterday that even if we turned out in record numbers, some corrupt hacker would find a way to manipulate the system and another election would be stolen from our hands. I’m so relieved that we were able to ”Barack The Vote” with such fortitude and win this thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. We did it. Oh yes we did.   

Even though I’m a big fan of “The Secret” and spent the last few weeks visualizing an Obama victory, I did have moments of doubt, I’m ashamed to say. When I heard the soccer moms at my bus stop identifying with Sarah Palin and trusting John McCain, the doubt started to creep in. And when my kids came home from school asking me questions like, “Mom? What do you have against John McCain? All the other kids’ parents are voting for him!” I worried. And when one of my own family members sent me a racist email of Obama shining Palin’s shoes, I definitely had my doubts that Americans could look past the color of his skin and choose Obama for the content of his character.  

And when my friend and I dressed up for Halloween like Sarah Palin and her unwed pregnant teen daughter Bristol Palin, and the people in my neighborhood totally DIDN’T GET THE JOKE, I was definitely a little afraid.

Nor did my neighbors think training a toy rifle on my wolf-children while pageant posing and winking was very tasteful or funny, but I’m kinda used to that reaction.

So even though I live in a red state and have been listening to people spew hatred about my candidate for months, today I am vindicated. Yes, today, I feel redemption, belonging, and pride in my country. Hope springs eternal.  

In fact, I am completely filled with a sense of optimism today. Like it’s spring cleaning time. Out with the old, in with the new! And to piggyback on all this hope and joy, I’m going to do a little deep cleaning myself today. 

I think I’ll start with my colon. You heard me. I’m going to eliminate the toxins from my body, just like we are about to rid our nation of the toxic Bush regime. Like Former Secretary of State Colin Powell broke with his party and endorsed Sen. Barack Obama, I’m going to take an extra big dose of my bulk-forming laxative today and get ready for a nice “clean break” myself on the old Thomas Crapper tomorrow.  ”He has both style and substance. I think he is a transformational figure,” Powell said on NBC’s Meet the Press recently. Yep. Agreed. I’ll tell you what else has style, substance, and can be transformational… a nice healthy dump. Oh yes I did.  

But I won’t stop there. I’m going to drink at least 8 glasses of water today. Water is also transformational, just like the baptismal waters that cleanse people of sin so they can be born again. Our nation desperately needs a rebirth! Barack Obama will be like the spring rain that washes away the dirty gray slush and helps the flowers to grow. He’ll be walking into a filthy quagmire come January, but I have faith that he will assemble the best team to clean up the heinous mess that Bush is leaving behind. It might take a while… big messes usually do. But we can do it. Yes we can.  

And I might even slap on one of those Biore Pore Cleansing strips today, to pull the blackheads out of my pores the way I hope Obama will pull our soldiers out of Iraq and bring them home. 

Maybe I’ll use some Crest Whiting Strips to remove the dull film of coffee and wine stains from my teeth like the way Obama will clean up the tarnished reputation our nation has earned around the globe thanks to Bush/Cheney and their redneck “country first” mentality. It’s amazing how much better people are received by others when their teeth are clean, isn’t it? Elitist, I know. Sue me.

And you know what? Maybe I’ll even take a shower today. Or maybe not. But I like having the choice on what to do with my body and I feel confident that Barack Obama and Joe Biden will preserve my rights to make those choices.

If I do choose to take a shower, I’ll definitely use some Magic Cream on the undercarriage. You know, strip away the extra layers of pork, if you will. 

Wow, sounds like a busy morning I’ve got ahead of me. I better get crackin’! Good thing I’m feeling so energetic and optimistic. Hope is a powerful drug. HOPE. It’s legal, free, and has no adverse side effects. I could get used to this! Thank you America!

© 2008 The Bearded Iris 

Just Vote.

Howdy ya’ll! It’s “Just the Tip Tuesday” again and it also happens to be Election Day here in America. Schools are closed…I’m guessing that is so teachers can vote and schools can be used as polling places, because surely people know having a houseful of kids is a major barrier to getting to the polls. I have actually voted in the past with a litter of babies clinging to my legs like velcro-coated anvils… it makes voting a little bit of a challenge, to say the least, but whatever. You do what you have to do. Besides, I’m a sucker for democracy and I love the chance to set a good example for my kids (which doesn’t happen all that often around here).

But for an election as important as this one, I sure am glad my husband and I voted weeks ago on a day when the kids were in school and we were having a grown-up day all to ourselves! Given my proclivity for procrastination and responsibility avoidance in general, I didn’t want to risk waking up today to sick kids, a flat tire, a tornado warning, and my parole officer camped out in my driveway. Kidding. I completed my community service a long time ago. You get the point though. Early voting is definitely the way to go if you can – no lines, no clingy kids, and lots of peace of mind. 

So that’s my tip today: vote.  Just vote. Vote early if you can, but if you didn’t, or couldn’t, or wouldn’t, just vote. Vote and be grateful that you live in a society where your vote is encouraged and counted. If you are a woman, vote and be grateful that there were women like Susan B. Anthony who were courageous enough to fight for the rights we have today. If you are a person of color, vote and be grateful for the changes we’ve seen in our country. We have a long way to go, but today let’s focus on the positive. Vote and be grateful for the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments to the Constitution which establish citizenship and protect rights, regardless of race. No matter what your gender, or color, or political affiliation, vote and be grateful. 

Just vote. Vote and be grateful that you have CHOICES. I recently learned from one of my readers in Australia that voting there is mandatory and resented by many. They don’t have the choice to vote. They are required to do it and as a result, some people show up and turn in a blank ballot as a way of “sticking it to the man.” I can’t even imagine throwing away a vote like that, but I can appreciate how being forced to do something could feel equally offensive. Sure makes me appreciate the choices we have here in America.   

I have heard a number of people say that they are not voting this year because they don’t like either of the main candidates. This baffles my mind. If you go into an ice cream store and don’t like the two flavors, do you not have ice cream? Really? Are you kidding me? I would totally eat that ice cream even if I didn’t love the flavors. I just like ice cream. Kinda like I just really enjoy living in a democracy and having choices. 

So just vote. This is not a time to be apathetic or afraid. You have a choice. You have a voice. Make the effort and let it be heard. 

And just in case you were wondering about my vote… 

© 2008 The Bearded Iris

Seeing Red

As if we parents don’t have enough to think about on a daily basis, it is “Family Safety – Red Ribbon Week” at the elementary school, the purpose of which is to educate students and their families about how they can keep themselves safe. Well, isn’t that nice?! And to make it super fun for the kids, the school is asking that the kids wear or bring something special every day this week! Wheeee!   

You know what? In theory – great idea. I’m all for keeping kids and families safe. Good on ya, school. However, in practice… this is a lot of extra work for a mom like me. My plate is already overflowing… and one more drop of bullshit casserole is going to make the whole damn paper plate spill all over my ill-fitting Mom-Jeans. I swear. I am a woman on the verge, ya’ll.  

Think I’m exaggerating? Here’s a rundown of the super fun extras I am (was) supposed to do this week:

Monday: Internet Safety Day – Surfing the Internet Safely!
Students are asked to wear their tropical Hawaiian shirt today.  
Oh, suck it.  We don’t have tropical shirts and I am certainly not buying two now for you people.  

Tuesday: Red Ribbon Day – Say No to Drugs.  
Students are asked to wear RED today.  
Ooops.  Missed that one. Too bad… because I might have actually been able to do this with minimal effort. We have some red clothes somewhere around here, and also a large assortment of pink socks and underwear that accidentally get washed with the red stuff on a semi-regular basis.  Oh well. 

Wednesday: Bicycle Safety Day – You’re Bright and You Ride Right!  
This day will feature students wearing their Brightest Colored shirt to signify their “bright” ideas about bike riding safety. Dammit. I missed this one too.     

Thursday: Fire Saftey Day – Only YOU can Prevent Fires!  
Students may bring a STUFFED BEAR today!
Uh-oh. 
Wait. It reads, “Students may bring…” That means it’s totally optional, right? Eh, nooooo.  
In my house, from now on, we’ll be calling this one – “Scar Your Child for Life Day!” 

Friday: Stranger Danger Day – Wear strange socks to help you remember to always follow your rules for Stanger Danger.  
Oooooo-kay. If you say so. But I’m thinking these poor little children will be so busy looking at their feet that strangers will be able to slowly drive right up and duct tape these downward-gazing children into the backs of their vehicles with no resistance whatsoever. Great – sounds like a winner. I definitely want my kids to associate pedophiles with wacky footwear.

I really just have one thing to say to school administrators about this program: “ARGHHHHHHHH!” If keeping kids safe is so fucking important to you, I suggest that you NOT stress out the parents with this kind of crap. Seriously. How safe do you think it is in my house this week with Mommy having to do all this extra shit when I’m already overwhelmed with Halloween costumes and cookies and parties and pumpkins? Seriously. It is a war-zone here right now. Don’t ask me to find matching strange socks and remember to place them on my kids on a specific day. Please. I beg of you. Wanna keep my kids safe? Quit adding to my never ending “to-do” list with menial tasks.  

As fierce as that may sound, I have not yet actually been brave enough to contact someone at the school and bitch about this stuff for fear that I am the only person who feels this way and that my lunacy will be taken out on my children. So I try to keep up with the constant stream of special requests to the best of my ability and pretend that I am not drowning in a sea of PTA induced clutter. I even have some systems in place for managing the constant influx of information. I placed the notice for this particular super fun week long hassle on the inside of my front door with a magnet, intending to remind myself each day what special item to dress my kid in or pack in their bag. Not a bad plan. At least it wasn’t buried under a pile of school papers somewhere on a spaghetti-sauce-dripping-kitchen-counter. But you know what happened? The flier got covered with a Cub Scout Popcorn Sale Order Form and I just plum forgot (although I did have a stellar week of popcorn sales, thank you very much).  

Yep, I forgot all about this stupid Red-Ribbon Safety CRAP until today, Thursday, when I got to see with my own two eyes how painfully neglected my poor children are.  Yes, I went into my kindergartener’s class this morning to volunteer and witnessed first hand how painful it is to be my child.  Poor Klepto was the ONLY KID in her class without a stuffed bear for Fire Safety Day.  OH THE SHAME!  

I was just sitting there, minding my own beeswax, cutting out construction paper rectangles and quietly gluing them onto bigger pieces of paper when the teacher announced that it was “time to get our bears and come sit on the rug for story time!” Uh-oh. This is gonna get ugly.  

“Look busy,” I told myself, head down, scissors frantically snipping away at those rectangles. Maybe she’ll just head over to the rug and sweetly ask another child if she can share with them. Nope. No such luck. Suddenly I heard Klepto shriek at another child: “STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE!” One of her friends was apparently asking her where her bear was. Confronted, like a wild animal in a corner, Klepto lost it. First the scream of frustration, then I could see the lower lip start to quiver, then the tears spilled forth and she tucked her head into her arms on her table. Within seconds she was literally racked with sobs. All the other kids were sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the carpet with their cute little stuffed bears in their laps, and Klepto was totally isolated at her table, body convulsing with sadness for being the only child without a bear… the only child with such an obvious loser of a mama who could not even manage to pack one, just one, of the three gazillion stuffed animals that are cluttering up the house. 

And there I sat, quietly cutting and gluing, feeling a lump slowly rising in my throat, thinking, “Damn. I suck.” 

There is nothing like disappointing and bringing shame to your child in such a public forum. My heart broke for that girl. 

Luckily, Klepto has the most amazing teacher who just so happened to have an extra stuffy on hand and was able to eventually persuade my child to pull it together and accept the substitute bunny. It was not an easy sell. And yes, I do suspect that part of the theatrics from Klepto was for my benefit: “Take THAT Mom! Can I have some candy and watch Hannah Montana NOW?” But even if I had not been there, she still would have felt that shame and embarrassment of being the only child without a teddy bear.  

In the heat of the moment, witnessing my child lose her shit over my inability to send in a random object, I was unable to feel anything but mortified.  I promptly finished my volunteer duties, averting eye contact with the other moms, and snuck out of the room after quickly kissing my red-faced, tear-stained daughter goodbye. Then I went to my car and cried. I cried long and hard. It sucks to feel like even your best just isn’t good enough, like you can’t keep all twelve balls in the air…eleven, maybe…but not twelve. It especially hurts when your negligence causes such emotional distress in one of your own. It is my job to love and nurture her, not cause so much heartache.  

But wait just a mother-fucking minute, people.  I was THERE. Volunteering. Cutting rectangles! Taking pictures for the school yearbook. I made her Halloween costume this week. She had clean underpants on every day this week. She ate multiple servings of fruits and vegetables every day and I read to her for 20 minutes every night. I brushed and flossed her and supervised her fluoride rinsing and kissed her goodnight… every night. I am a good mother and I will be DAMNED if I am going to let this unwelcome serving of bullshit casserole make me feel otherwise. Fucking school. Look out, my caffeine just kicked in and someone is going to have hell to pay.  

But wait, it gets even better. Last night, I asked the kids what they learned about Fire Safety yesterday. “Nothing.” Really? Well what about bicycle safety, Internet safety, saying NO to drugs? “Nope. Nothing.” Hmmm. It turns out that Nature Boy was also one of the only kids in his third grade class without a teddy bear yesterday, and the teacher did an academic lesson involving measuring said bears, and since Nature Boy didn’t have one, he couldn’t participate. WHAT?! Oh, no. You mean to tell me that my kids are being made to feel isolated and bad and miss out on academic instruction because their mother didn’t send in a teddy bear for an optional program about safety topics that aren’t even being taught? Excuse me, I have a phone call to make. 

It’s funny.  There were two other moms there with me for the volunteer shift, cutting and pasting and making small talk. Before the “I don’t have a teddy bear!” incident, we chatted about how times have changed, reminiscing that when we were in Kindergarten so many years ago, it was only a half-day program, with time for a nap everyday.  We didn’t have such complicated curricula.  We learned our letters and numbers and colors and shapes and Moms were allowed to bake homemade treats to send in for “Halloween Parties”…not “Autumn Centers.” And none of us remembered our mothers sitting in the back of the room each week cutting out rectangles. Both of these moms volunteer one morning twice a month, and both seemed embarrassed that it wasn’t enough. What is going on here? Why isn’t anything we do ever enough? Something is very wrong here. And you wonder why so many mommies drink.   

Well, on that note, I suppose I better quit writing and start baking. We’ve got pumpkins to carve and pumpkin shaped cookies to decorate.  And I have a new big ol’ box of wine callin’ my name. 

And just so you know, I did dig up some crazy socks today so my kids wouldn’t be ostracized or kicked out of class for being disruptive with their non-conformist ways. And I instructed my son to wear one of his crazy socks like this: 

Take THAT, fucking school. Now quit stressing me out and teach my kids some math for Chrissakes. 

© 2008 The Bearded Iris

Panic Room

Well by now you all know that yesterday was the largest one-day Dow Jones point drop in history (-778 points).  Folks, don’t kid yourselves, this is not just a Wall Street issue anymore. The defeat of the bailout bill is a big deal and it is already hurting John and Jane Q. Public. Without some kind of a financial rescue plan moving forward, our nation’s credit market collapse is much more likely to snowball into a full-frontal economic crisis of global proportions. On paper yesterday, investors lost a total of $1.2 TRILLION. It is sickening. Whatever you do, don’t look at your online brokerage statements unless you have a big bottle of Tums in your hand.

I’ve been glued to the TV about this and everyone is saying the same damn thing: “Don’t panic.” But I gotta tell ya, a little bit of panic isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Most of us are so complacent today. We are surrounded by convenience, 24/7.  ATMs, wireless networks, microwavable popcorn, On-Demand TV.  A looming global economic catastrophe is just the motivator I need to get off my lazy ass and get my family prepared for tougher times, just in case.  And I am here to suggest that you do the same.  

Look, this isn’t going to be another Great Depression like what followed the stock market crash of 1929. Back then, we didn’t have the FDIC or such rapid access to information. However, the credit crunch is here to stay for a while (Suze Orman predicts until 2015!).  If you don’t have credit, don’t expect to get it now. And if you do have credit, expect your limits to drop and your fees to rise. We can no longer continue to live beyond our means and just “Charge it! Charge it! Charge it!” like Wilma Flintstone on a maniacal neolithic shopping spree.

So I say, yes, panic (a little)!  This is a great time to get your ducks in a row just in case things get worse before they get better. With that being said, I would like to share with you my best ideas to help you harness your fears and prepare for the worst like the good little Boy and Girl Scouts that we all want to be.  After all, it is “Just the Tip Tuesday” and I am a woman of my word. So let’s get to it. 

Iris’s Top Tens Ways to Survive a Global Economic Crisis:

1.) Buy a fireproof safe and fill it with as much cash as you can hoard. With declining access to credit, cash will be king. My good friend John is a firefighter in California, and no stranger to natural disasters or looting. He tells me that we should all have plenty of small bills stashed away. When the shit hits the fan, don’t expect people to make change. Ones and fives are best. 

2.) Stock up on canned goods (and make sure you have a manual can opener, duh). Don’t forget about plenty of water, powdered milk, powdered eggs, peanut butter, dog food, tampons, dried fruit, beef jerkey, rice, and iodine. Think “Survivor.” You want high protein and high fat non-perishable foods stockpiled just in case.  At least a week’s worth, I would say. The supply chain is a fragile thing…with gas and credit shortages, there could certainly be fewer deliveries to stores. I can’t even walk to the local grocery store from my suburban paradise. If things get ugly, I want to be able to feed my babies, ya’ll.  

3.) Learn Morse Code. When the infrastructure collapses and there is no other way to communicate with others, you’ll be glad that you can tap out a message to your neighbors or cell mates.  

4.) Get your house in order.  Stay home and clean out your garage. When the rioting starts, you definitely want to be able to park both of your SUVs behind the safety of closed doors.

5.) Organize your photos and keepsakes. Pare these down to only the favorites you can grab and run with if you need to evacuate in a hurry.

6.) Share with people who are worse off than you. I’m a Democrat. We care about others and we don’t mind sharing…even with people who haven’t pulled themselves up by their bootstraps. Food Banks are in crisis right now. Donations are down; needs are up. People are so desperate that Food Banks are being robbed. Pathetic. Don’t be a greedy bastard…that is how our nation got here in the first place.  Sheesh. 

7.) Buy a gun and plenty of bullets. If you are the only prepared person in your subdivision, you might wind up staring at a hungry mob one day. Make sure you can defend your family and protect your stash. And buy a locking gun safe – don’t be an asshole. You may have the right to bear arms, but you don’t have the right to allow your gun to get into the wrong hands. Once you are armed and dangerous, make sure you take some lessons and practice at a shooting range so you don’t blow your foot off…or mine.  

8.) Stock up on cartons of cigarrettes.  Even if you don’t smoke, you can use them as bargaining chips with looters and gang members.

9.) Buy lots of duct tape. You never know.

10.) Spay and Neuter your pets and husband. The last thing you need right now are more mouths to feed. Nip that action in the bud…literally.

Well good luck ya’ll. I hope some of these tips can help you get your shit together. Tune in again next week for more hot “Just the Tip Tuesday” advice. Until then, I’ll be seeing you in line at the gas stations! And hey, you in the green Ford Taurus with the “Principal Pal” sticker? I saw that obscene hand gesture today and I do not appreciate it. Seriously! WWJD? Beeotch.

Rules of Engagement

My feisty five year old daughter, Klepto, played touch football with the neighborhood boys this weekend. This girl is a force of nature, and normally, I would expect to be out there with my first aid kit comforting the boys who got in her way. So it surprised me to no end when she came in boo-hooing about how rough the boys were.

Did I yell at the boys to be nicer to the little girl? Hell no! I told her she had two choices:

1.) get out there and kick some ass, or

2.) go play something else.

I reminded her that she is probably faster on her feet than most of those awkward pre-pubescent boys and that she also has the innate skill of cleverness on her side.  She CAN play that game.  But, if she is going to go out there and play with the “big boys,” she has to play by their rules and cannot expect special treatment just because she is younger, smaller, and not sporting a penis.  

Stay with me…I have a point.    

The Vice Presidential Debate is coming up this week.  And I swear, if I hear one more person in the “liberal media” mention the conundrum of how Joe Biden is going to debate Sarah Palin without looking like an attack dog, I am going to puke.  Apparently the buzz on the street is that this is a no-win situation for Biden. If he is too assertive and confident and strong in the debate, it will look like he is “hitting a girl.” Ack.  If he “plays nice” (whatever that means), then he will look like a pussy and will lose the debate.  

This is reverse sexism.  Plain and simple.

First of all, if Palin is the right person for this job, she should be able to hold her own in a VP debate.  If she can’t, regardless of her opponent, then she shouldn’t be the VP.  

Secondly, the Republican ticket thinks she is the best candidate for the job, so let her prove it.  This is a person who can field dress a moose, right?  They don’t call her the Barracuda for nothing.  Let her do her thing.  She certainly is not going to take it easy on Biden just because he is an “old man.”  

Forget about her gender for a second here.  I know it is hard, since her gender is the primary reason she was selected as McCain’s running mate.  But humor me.  If she were a ridiculously under-qualified man, (Dan Quayle comes to mind, except that he had WAY more experience than Palin),  Joe Biden having a slam dunk at the debate would be all about Biden being the better candidate, period.  Or let’s turn the table and imagine Hillary Clinton debating Sarah Palin. I’m sure there would be some bone-heads out there calling it a “cat fight” instead of hearing the issues, but again, the primary dichotomy here is one of experience vs. inexperience. Forget about gender. Who do we want being one heartbeat away from the Presidency?  Biden or Palin?

I want to be able to show my daughter that the first time we have a female president or VP, it is because that woman was the best candidate for the job, regardless of gender. Sarah Palin is not that person. When the best choice coincidentally happens to be a woman, we need to be able to utter her name in the same breath as other appropriate female firsts: Sandra Day O’Connor (first female Supreme Court Justice – 1981), Nancy Pelosi (first female speaker of the House of Representatives – 2007), Sally Ride (first American female astronaut in space – 1983), just to name a few. Sarah Palin does not fit this mold.

Senator Biden, take my advice.  This is your chance to show the world that you are the best candidate for this job. Be yourself. Pull no punches. Governor Palin signed up to play this game; let her play. And let her talk as much as she wants. Hand her the ball, and let her fumble it.

Democracy in Action

My husband and I had a hot, hot date today, ya’ll.  He played hooky from work so we could spend some kid-free time together.  We ditched Bucket Head at his Grandparents’ house last night for a sleep over, and once the two big’uns got on the school bus this morning at 6:51 AM, we got busy.  And by busy, I mean me on the computer writing, and him on the can reading the paper.  

But once all our morning ablutions were behind us, we decided to actually spend some time together.  We went out for a big ol’ Southern breakfast (with grits and sausage gravy), and actually talked about more than how we were going to get the kids to and from their various activities.  It was wonderful.  We got to talk about us.  Not kids. And it was daytime and we were in public, so I wasn’t passed out on the couch snoring while he maniacally flips between 12 different TV shows. Sigh.   

After breakfast we drove around for about 20 minutes looking for a service station with gas.  Nada.  We tried 12 different places and they were all tapped out.  Very scary.  I have about half a tank, so I’ll try again first thing in the morning, but still.  

While we were out tooling around in my tricked out minivan looking for gas, we decided to swing by the local Democratic Headquarters to volunteer for the Obama campaign.  It was not very easy to find…set back off a barricaded road under construction in a shabby old office park. I wonder if that is a safety issue…less chance of a Molotov cocktail being thrown in the window if the Bubbas can’t find it, or if they had trouble finding anyone who would lease them a better space.  Once we found it, the sun-faded signs in the window were a little disheartening.  I am imagining that the Republican HQ in my county is more of a sight to behold.    

But we walked in and met the sole volunteer there.  His name was John and he has put his life on hold to do nothing but manage the Obama campaign here in North Georgia until after the election.  He seemed very excited and passionate and grateful for our help.  I told him I was afraid to put an Obama sign in my yard or on my car because of the rampant racism and right wing conservatism here, and he told me:

“Be brave.”  

And honest to God, I got choked up.  

I looked down at my arms and they were all goose pimply.  See for yourself.  

I thought about the fact that less than 100 years ago, women weren’t even allowed to vote in this country. And about the fact that blacks had even fewer rights than women.  And that here is a black man, who was raised by a single mother, and worked his way through college.  A man who has made history by being the first African American to be nominated by a major party for the President of the United States of America. A man who shares the same values that my family and I share: accountability, self reliance, love of country, and treating your neighbor as you’d like to be treated. And I am moved. Moved to action. We signed up to make phone calls and go canvassing this week and we left. 

Feeling inspired and alive, we drove straight to the County Adminstration building and WE VOTED FOR BARACK OBAMA.  Early voting is the way to go, people.  It feels so good to get it out of the way.  Knowing me, I’ll wake up on November 4th to a severe thunder storm, with three sick kids, a hole in my roof, no gas in my car, and a wicked hangover.  Yeah, there is no way I’m going to let my penchant for procrastination prevent me from casting my vote.  So we did it.  And it was HOT.

 

So hot, in fact, that we left the polls, went straight home, and made sweet democratic love.  And the birds were chirping and the sun was shining and all was right with the world.  And that was just the first time. Lord have mercy!

So my friends, if you are looking to rev up your love life and do something for the greater good.  Go vote with your lover.  But make sure you vote for Obama, because otherwise, the aphrodisiac effect is null and void. In fact, I recently heard that voting republican actually diminishes sexual prowess. Just thought I’d pass that along.

ApocaLIPS

I apologize in advance, but it appears to be Vagina Week here at The Bearded Iris.  Maybe it is because I’ve gone off my meds and my libido is inching its way back up to sea level, or perhaps it is a result of watching Senator McCain be interviewed by those pussies on The View that has put va-jay-jays on my brain. (Joy Behar and Whoopie Goldberg…shame on you!  You were way too easy on that loose cannon.)  If you are just joining us and want to get caught up on all the shop talk, check out my recent vagi-centric posts:

Shiny (9/17/08) – all about my Brazilian Bikini Wax from hell

Show Me the Money (9/16/08) – a sexy money saving primer

Sweaty Bitch (9/14/08) – my adventure with Bikram Yoga, in spite of my frequently noisy hoo-hoo

Sticky Situation (9/8/08) – a detailed account of my five year old daughter’s riveting journey into the land of “I have gum stuck to my vagina” land. 

Are you up to speed then?  OK, good.  Moving on.  

Truly, I’m not obsessed with my va-jay-jay, all evidence to the contrary.  But just when I thought I knew everything there was to know about my anatomy, I discover that there is a whole (hole) ‘nother world of muffin maintenance that I know nothing about.  Ya’ll are never gonna believe this.  Did you know there is a new thing called the Wonder Woman Makeover™?  No kidding. It is not what you think, though.  If you go to a plastic surgeon and ask for a Wonder Woman, you will not walk out looking like Linda Carter. In fact, you probably won’t be able to walk at all for a while.  ’Cause get this: the Wonder Woman Makeover™ is a makeover for your goodie basket!  And by goodie basket, I mean ALL the fun parts immediately above and below where you hang your Lasso of Truth.  And by Makeover, I don’t mean makeup and a fashion update, although that is always nice.  No, we are talking Nip/Tuck, people. Apparently you can get your tuna noodle casserole tightened back up as if you never even popped out a puppy or two.  My good friend Cassie believes this disturbing trend is surely a sign of the apocalypse.  When women spend this much time, money, and energy on their vaginas, especially given the current state of the world, it is probably a good time for all of us to get right with God and prepare for the hereafter.  

So let’s talk specifics.  Here is the basic definition of the Wonder Woman Makeover™: multiple consecutive surgeries that include laser vaginal rejuvenation, laser reduction labioplasty, liposculpturing with Brazilian Butt Augmentation, and breast augmentation. “Huh,” you say?  Let me say it in American for ya, honey: this is a tuna-tightening, rear-raising, cellulite-sucking, boob-building smorgasbord.  Everything from your pits to your knees will be made “good as new” with this dealy.  Just don’t expect it to be covered by health insurance…this kind of thing is rarely deemed medically necessary.  Of course, if men requested this sort of work, doctors would be offering it at the drive thru window, with nary a co-pay, but that is a different story.    

Now, for my female readers who are either not mothers or who have had the benefit of a scheduled C-Section and are still as tight as a drum down there, you might be wondering, what’s all this emphasis on vaginal rejuvenation?  I can answer this best with a Haiku:

My babies were big,

and now so is my pussy.

Is it in yet, Hon? 

Sigh….so tragic.  Look, here is my point.  My husband is not complaining.  Even if sex with me is like tossing a baseball bat into the garage, The Mister is usually just grateful that he’s getting a chance to put the recreational equipment away once in a while, if you know what I mean.  But truth be told, sure, it could be better.  A study conducted by the famous Masters and Johnson research team revealed that sexual pleasure is heightened by an increase in friction.  Well, that can be a bit of a problem for us natural Wonder Women. Once you’ve pushed out three nearly-ten-pound babies the old fashioned way, sex feels more like a Teflon-coated Olympic luge event than squeezing a camel through the eye of a needle. (man, is it ever fun to quote from the Bible when I’m talking about sex!) 

According to the surgeons who specialize in it, Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation® (LVR®) enhances vaginal muscle tone, strength, and control.  It decreases the internal and external vaginal diameters as well as builds up and strengthens the perineal body (the area immediately outside the vagina and above the anus). Well, isn’t that nice.  So something like this could help me stop peeing when I laugh? Hmmm. Very interesting. Go on.  

Yes, vaginal rejuvenation can improve bodily functions.  But for some women, going this route is purely an aesthetic thing.  They simply want a pretty one.  Well, excuse me for saying, but that sounds a little oxymoronic to me.  Like Jumbo Shrimp. Nondairy Creamer. Holy War. Wireless Cable. The Patriot Act.  Since I’ve never spent a lot of time gazing longingly at this part of my body, I wasn’t quite sure what a “pretty one” looks like.  But yowza!  Look what I found!  Thank you Al Gore for inventing the Internet. 

Ladies, feel free to print this diagram out and use it as a teaching tool for those men in your life who don’t quite grasp the traffic patterns down there. Never pleasant. So anyhooo, THAT is a pretty one, eh?  Shoot. My poor husband!  He could SO do better than me.  What?  Don’t believe me? Here is what MY hot pocket looks like:

 

And in certain light:

 

And when I’m not shouting from the rooftops to remind the American public that
McCain was a member of the infamous Keating Five in the nefarious savings and loan scandal that cost taxpayers hundreds of billions of dollars, 
my pussy looks exactly like this:

 

 

Hey, don’t judge.  Remember, I’ve had three, count them THREE, very large babies.  My SMALLEST one was 8 lbs. 5 ounces and 22 inches long.  And I had an episiotomy with the first sack of potatoes that somewhat resembled the gutting of a fish.  Bygones.

OK, I get it.  This is a free country.  Whatever floats your boat, people.  Fine. Maybe you are all Loosey-Goosey and afraid your man is going to leave you for greener (tighter) pastures.  Fair enough.  But instead of going under the knife, I’m just suggesting you consider all the options.  How about asking HIM to get a penis enlargement instead?  Why not?  THAT is probably covered by insurance.  Or, if you are self conscious about the fact that your knockers hang to your knees and your stomach looks more like a Shar-Pei, then do what I do and simply turn off the lights…save your dignity AND electricity!   

My girlfriends and I joke around all the time about what stretched out old hags we are.  Good times.  I have one friend who swears she can tie a bow with her labia. Now that, I would like to see.  But if we all ran out and got vaginoplasty and tummy tucks and boob jobs and butt lifts, what in the world would we have to joke about?  

Oh, I suspect we’d find something….

Show Me the Money

If yesterday’s Wall Street blood bath has your panties all in a wad, don’t panic.  This does is not a “run on the Savings and Loan.”  Please leave George Bailey and his new bride alone.  They deserve that honeymoon and should not be harangued by you and your general anxiety disorder.  Just sit back and relax, honey. Iris has some unconventional financial tips that can bring your blood pressure down and please your partner all in one fell swoop.  

1.  Take it from me (and Suze Orman) that a coffee can is NOT the place to stick your money.  Yes, it is always a good idea to have a wad of small bills around in case of emergencies, or for playing “stripper” with your man on special occasions…like Tuesdays, but the majority of your money should remain in FDIC insured accounts.  Don’t be a Chicken Little.  This is not the time to lose your head and do stupid things.  In fact…I’m no expert on this, but I’m thinking now would probably be a good time to BUY BUY BUY.  It is like a fire sale on Wall Street today.  Have at it!

2.  Quit your gym membership.  Have more sex.  It is fun and mostly free.  If you do it correctly and often enough, you can improve flexibility and burn lots of fat.  Plus, you can do it in the privacy of your own home (although outside of the home can be fun too) and you don’t need any special apparatus or matchy-matchy outfits.  Wait, I take that last part back.

3.  Stop buying and wearing panties.  You’ll never have those pesky VPLs (Visible Panty Lines) and you’ll cut down on your laundry, which is also a very hip and “green” thing right now.  Let it breathe…it will thank you later.  See also: tip # 2 above.  No panties = easy access.  

4.  Don’t eat so much.  Think of all the cashola you’ll save at the grocery store!  Plus, you’ll have fewer calories to burn so you won’t need to work out so much.  Once you lose some weight, you’ll feel better about yourself too and can stop spending all that money on therapy and antidepressants.  And you’ll feel sexier, which will make you want to shag even more.  It is a self-perpetuating cycle of thriftiness.  This is a win-win-win solution, people, and it goes hand in hand with tip # 2.  Try it.  

5.  Save money on prescription drugs by stealing them from your friends.  

6.  Set up as many automatic payments as possible with your online banking service.  You’ll save oodles of green on late payment fees and imagine all the extra time you’ll have for things like, oh I don’t know, sex and illegally obtained prescription drugs.  

7.  Don’t pay for things you can get for free like movies, music, cable TV, and sex.  Be creative.    

8.  Get rid of your phones.  Everyone has a cell phone these days…just borrow one from a friend when you need it.  Borrowing a phone today is the equivalent to asking for the time, or bumming a smoke, or using someone else’s toothbrush on a one night stand…no big deal.  People really don’t mind.  

9.  Cut back on the number of extra-curricular activities you force on your over-scheduled children.  In addition to the monthly tuition payments you won’t have to shell out for music lessons, sports teams, tutoring, foreign language immersion classes, and horseback riding clinics, you’ll save on gas and the future psychiatric treatment that your children are most certainly going to require.  

10.  Quit contributing when they pass the basket at church.  If you are embarrassed, do what I do and just stick an empty envelope in there every week.  That way, the judgmental holy rollers in your pew will still think you’re a big spender, but you can use that money toward something more practical, like organic milk or push up bras.  

11.  Be open minded.  A box of wine is economical and better for the environment.  And after the first couple of glasses, the taste really grows on you.  

In conclusion, you don’t have to be a financial wizard to save a little money, just a teensy bit of creativity and a pathological lack of shame.  Oh, and don’t forget to vote Obama.  Who do you think got us into this mess?  Hmmm, let’s see, could it be?  The Republicans?  Oh yes, that is ringing a bell.  Just say no to 4 more years of this shit.  Please.  I beg of you.  Now put your computer away and go shag someone.  Listen to Iris, sugar, and make love, not war.

 

Thrift is not an affair of the pocket, but an affair of character. ~S.W. Straus

Asset or Liability?

I have read Senator John McCain’s first person account of his harrowing five and a half years in captivity as a POW in North Vietnam (U.S. News & World Report, May 14, 1973).  He is definitely a survivor, a war hero, and a loyal American citizen.  He has served his country in ways that most of us can’t even imagine.  

What intrigues me most about this, however, is the fact that his experience as a POW is lauded by the Republicans as such a major asset in his bag of proposed presidential qualities.  

Here’s the scoop: John McCain was a Navy flier whose Skyhawk dive bomber was shot down over Hanoi in 1967.  Having sustained numerous broken bones in the crash, he was captured, beaten, and systematically tortured by the North Vietnamese in blatant disregard to the Geneva Convention of 1949.  The medical care for his life threatening injuries was minimal at best and he spent a good deal of his captivity in squalid solitary confinement, replaying favorite books in his head to survive the extreme loneliness and desperation.  Anyone who has watched a single prison movie knows that life “in the hole” for any amount of time is HELL ON EARTH.  A month of this kind of isolation can break the strongest of souls, let alone several years.  

The fact that McCain survived this ordeal tells me a great deal about his character.  But it also tells me that there is no way in hell that this man does not have some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). We’ve all heard the buzz about his quick temper.  We know he is touted as “a Maverick.”  But come on.  Do we really want a man with that kind of baggage hovering over the button?  I’m thinking this guy has to have the itchiest trigger finger in the West.  To me, his time as a POW and the unavoidable emotional scars that must accompany that experience make him more of a liability than an asset.  I want a president who will calmly consider all the options before he/she makes a decision.  I want a president who will surround him/herself with various experts who can provide sound counsel and strategy.  I want a president who won’t thrust us into battle based on incomplete or falsified information just to settle an old score.  And call me a romantic, but I want a president who doesn’t use the word “gook.”  (McCain Criticized for Slur, SF Gate 2/18/2000.)  

I know this is not very politically correct.  But hey, I’m not the one running for public office here.  I’m not questioning John McCain’s bravery or loyalty or patriotism.  What I’m questioning is his mental stability. And given that, in addition to his advanced age of 72 (he is currently the oldest candidate to ever run for their first term of president) and his myriad physical challenges due to his POW experience, I am particularly fearful of his ability to lead our country.  Case in point: I think his choice of Sarah Palin as a running mate is a prime example of the kind of poor judgement and rash decision making that we would see in him as a president. My advice is to “just say no” to loose canons posing as “Mavericks.”  I choose brains, not brawn.  I choose even-keeled, not hot-headed. I choose Barack Obama, not John McCain.

He who is slow to anger has great understanding,

But he who is quick-tempered exalts folly. - Proverbs 14:29

RNC (Republican National Cockfight)

Watched the RNC last night.  Fascinating stuff.  A few general observations:

1.) The sea of white sparkly people: I have to ask myself, why aren’t there any people of color at the convention?  Little baby Trig Palin was the most diverse member of the audience.  (And good for you guys for going after the retard vote.  No child left behind!)  Although I did see one black person….oh wait, that was one of the reporters from the public television station.  And what is the correlation between republicans and extremely overweight people with cowboy hats?  Are they so fat because of all the pork in the bills?  Or maybe they are the manifestation of ketchup as a veggie and scaled back school physical education programs.

2.)  Mitt Romney.  Yikes!  That guy is scary.  How could he stand up there and denigrate so many facets of our nation after 8 years of Bush/Cheney leadership? How do you think it got this way, bub?  Why are these people taking no responsibility for the state of our country right now?  And as for family values…are you kidding me?  Please don’t parade the Palins and their knocked-up teenage daughter as an example of good family values. I’m not buying it. Clearly having a Mom and a Dad around isn’t the fail safe recipe for keeping a child on the straight and narrow. 

3.)  Sarah “The Pit Bull” Palin.  You go girl!  Look, any woman with five kids who has survived living in Alaska and a stint in the PTA is clearly one helluva contender.  You had me at lipstick.  But come on, all the low blows about Obama just reinforce for me that you don’t have better things to say.  Couldn’t you have risen above and showcased your own strengths and ideas instead of undercutting the competition?  Luckily for my team, you don’t have any foreign policy experience and/or basic understanding of the role of the Vice President, because you are one confident, articulate lady. But it is clear that you are just a pawn.  I mean really, how does the Republican ticket compete with the star-powered history making Obama nomination and Joe Biden’s 36 year track record?  Fight fire with fire.  Bring on a woman.  But not just any woman. A young, feisty, attractive, gun toting, pro-life woman!  Wow. You guys are good.  All she needs is an “Obama Bin Laden” t-shirt, and you guys will hit all the bases.

So, let’s see what big John McCain has to say tonight.  I’d like to see less cockfighting and more concrete ideas for how we can get our nation out of this big fucking Republican mess.  And by the way, did you notice how Barack Obama declared the Palin’s family situation “off limits”?  THAT is how you take the high road, Sarah.  Iris out, yo.