The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

Today I sent in my application to vote. Does that make me like, a total American or something? It definitely ups the ante on my Americanness. America. America. The Beautiful. Maybe now I don’t have to feel like a fraud when I hear The Star-Spangled Banner and start to cry.

My kid is American. (Do you know all the hoops we have to jump through to make her Canadian too? Daunting…cause one doesn’t do a lot of hoop jumping in Riverside in hundred degree weather in OCTOBER!)

I had to reject the Obama grassroots fundraiser kid on the street because I had already been nabbed (I mean warmly greeted and stopped in my swiftly moving tracks) by a Greenpeace representative. The trash pile the size of Texas floating in the Pacific ocean is what got me, as I have this funny feeling one of MY plastic bags is hovering on top. Unlike Sarah Palin, I do believe ‘man’ has had, oh you know, an impact on the environment.

And yes, you might have guessed it. Simon and I are eagerly anticipating tonight’s vice presidential debate. We have a six o’clock date in front of Goodwin’s large screen tv. We have already asked Elsie to minimize her needs throughout the ninety minutes. She is considering…reluctantly. Simon has scheduled a follow-up brunch date for Saturday morning, cause as he said exuberantly, “We’re going to have a lot to discuss.”

The top three guys in America’s history: George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Jefferson.

Not everyone in America likes guns, red meat or Hummers.

Paramount in America (okay, LA): vaginal rejuvenation and other varieties of plastic surgery. Why a vagina needs rejuvenating is beyond me. But I have often been accused of naivete. You just have to say it all authentic like and I’ll believe you.

Am I getting a sense of America or what?