Uncommon Julia

Episode 692, In Which We Hold Our Breath

Did you know that once one falls out of the habit of openly discussing one's vagina and uterus in a public forum, it can be difficult to get back into the swing of it?  Did you know that it becomes exponentially more challenging when one realizes that one's FATHER has commented on her blog, which, by extrapolation implies he is READING at least some of her blog.  As if it weren't hard enough knowing one's mother is reading all...

But talking about my girl bits is really what this whole thing used to be about, at least in part.  So I would feel weird not mentioning recent events.  Disingenuous somehow.

Here we go... (Mom, feel free to skip this one, and Dad, dear god... step away and avert your eyes!)

Some relevant prefacing information:

I haven't been on the "mini-pill" for roughly two months.  There are two causes: 1) There was a time when the $15 copay was literally too much.  Condoms were free (because we already had them) and every dollar counted.  Then, it came 'round to time for my annual physical, and I had no money for the office visit, so I didn't schedule it.  Which meant my prescription ran out.

This was fine because we were both so emotionally and physically exhausted that sex was more of a rarity than ever.  I even got another period - my first since Easter, which was my first post-Caroline.  Once I got my new gig, I planned to set my annual physical, get on a for-reals, full-strength birth control pill, and move on down the road.

(preface over)

Everything was fine and dandy until Friday night, when we experienced a massive FAIL.  MASSIVE, MASSIVE FAIL.  I blame Todd entirely.  It was a case of user error and product malfunction.  Oh, screw it, the condom broke.  "Shredded" was the word Todd used.

Given the relative distance from my period and my "mood" that evening and proceeding days ("randy", one might say - were one British), I surmised that there was a VERY REAL RISK that I might be OVULATING.  Making this MASSIVE FAILURE an even more horrifying event.

Todd and I spent the rest of the night and all of the next day in a panic-stricken, pale-faced stupor. 

Even if it weren't for the fact that we've only just begun to be able to afford groceries, and only just narrowly avoided bankruptcy, and only just scheduled doctors and dentists visits, EVEN IF...

INDEPENDENT HEALTH INSURANCE DOESN'T COVER PREGNANCY!

We cannot - repeat, CANNOT - get pregnant now.  And none of it has a speck to do with whether or not we want another child.  As long as Todd and I are independent contractors, as long as we stick it out as entrepreneurs, we cannot have a baby.

The sort of high-risk, massively tested, watched, measured, and generally freaked-out variety of pregnancies I produce are bank-breaking even WITH health insurance (to the tune of $17K and $4K, respectively).  Without it, it's simply not feasible.

That left me with one option: Plan B.

And lemme just say, thank God for recent commercials advocating the availability of emergency contraception.  Had I not just seen an ad a week before, it might have escaped my rather-dubious thoughts through this whole event.

Because of that commercial, I went on-line, did some quick research, then hauled myself to Target and bellied up to the pharmacy counter with my two kids in the cart to purchase Plan B.  Based on previous reactions to hormones, I was expecting some pretty rough hours of vomiting and headache - which was a fun prospect given I had a party to go to and was in the early stages of a cold.

But to my great relief, I got neither, and felt just fine.  I took the pill early, and it should be about 75-80% effective.  Which is helpful, but by no means allays my fears in total.

In about two weeks I'll take a pregnancy test, and then, assuming it's negative, I'll take another a week later, just to be sure.

After years of praying and doing everything in my power to get pregnant and carry to term, it felt highly, highly unusual to do something in the complete opposite direction.  It also felt weird to stand at the pharmacy counter hollering "PLAN B? DO YOU HAVE IT?" to the tech who insisted on asking me how she could help from the back of their little room.  It felt weird to be in my 30s with two kids and feelings so very teenaged and freaked-out.

I wish this weren't the situation.  I wish Todd and I could have approached this situation from the vantage point of "What would life be like with three kids?" rather than, "This will be the end of us." - all because of health insurance.

I'm not saying the decision would have been different.  I'm just saying we'll never know.  And it's because we cannot buy health insurance that will cover pregnancy on our own - it doesn't exist*.

So for the next weeks, we'll be on pins and needles, praying that we've dodged a huge, huge bullet.  And its such a contrary prayer to the ones I've uttered in the past.  As always, I'll keep you posted.

*on the independent market, you can only find maternity "riders" which limit total coverage to a number that is equal to the cost of the monthly fee (if you do the math - which we did).

We Are Revolutionaries

About a month ago, Ms. Magazine approached me and told me about an article they were working on about the power of women bloggers - Cyberhood is Powerful.  They offered to send a copy and asked if I'd like to talk about it here.  Sure!  Why not?  I'm a woman.  I blog.  And my readers are mostly women.  Who also mostly blog.

The article is interesting, and points out (presumably to those who didn't already know this) that we women bloggers are a force to be reckoned with.  Er, with which to be reckoned.  We give voice to the marginalized, fortify political movements, form support networks that save lives, share information both within and outside our communities, and sway public opinion.

Lately, my personal and professional lives have been converging in a strange (and wonderful) way.  People in my professional life have begun to recognize the force of social media and the sway of "influencers".  This was evident at BlogHer '09, in the articles I've been reading, in my tweet stream, and nearly every one of the conversations I've had over the past month.

And here's what I find truly amazing: even with all this burgeoning recognition, the public at large still doesn't quite get this one gleaming fact:  WE ARE MORE THAN POWERFUL.  WE ARE REVOLUTIONARY.

I mean that in every sense of the word.  We have been forging alliances, building networks, honing arguments, directing movements, and speaking out against any number of injustices - and we started doing long before anyone (ourselves included) ever recognized what was happening.  It was this natural, sensible, need-based approach that led directly to our power - giving us deep roots in our global community because we did not spring up from an agenda.  We were and are simply women doing what we do best: relating, caring, and moving ever forward.

And that is why we are revolutionaries.  Ignore us at your own peril.  Condescend to us and you'll regret it.  Marginalize, demonize, or criminalize us, and you'll wish you could turn back time.

Call me a "mommy-blogger" and I'll roll my eyes.  I don't fit into that box, and neither do most of the women you put there.  I'm no mommy-blogger.  I'm a BAD-ASS MOTHER-BLOGGER.  And so are my friends.  Take care to remember that, and we'll ride off into the sunset together, leaving the world behind us a better place.

Tonight

... for the first time in years, I will go to sleep feeling like the government and new leader of my country is on my side and looking out for my well-being.

I do not know how the next four years will turn out, but I can say that the relief and hope I feel at this moment is something I will strive to hold on to.

And beyond my own personal feelings, it is truly a monumental occasion and a historical event I am proud to have witnessed.  It is a story I will tell my girls and, God willing, their children after them.

The Extreme Moderate Manifesto

I am an extreme moderate, and I will be silent no more.

We are the housecats of the political arena - so populous and common that we are almost completely overlooked, and always taken for granted.  Loyal only to our families, and independent to a fault, we stand where idealism meets reality, evaluating everything with an open mind, hopefulness, and a strong dose of skepticism. 

We are weary of the fanaticism that lies at the poles, tired of the bickering, and most of all, fed up at being ignored.  We are the mainstream.  We are the majority.  Pundits joke hourly about the "undecided" and deride us as unsophisticated and unprincipled.  But we are neither.  We are too principled to accept the the narrow-mindedness of our only two options, and we are disgusted at having to chop off our curves to fit in either box.

Candidates and parties claim to be vying for our allegiance, all the while discounting our views (or rather, never asking them in the first place) and building their platforms further and further away from the center.  I will not be a neat demographic slice for you - a "soccer mom" or a "feminazi".  I will not allow you to stuff me in a pigeon hole outlined by your market research and pollsters.  Because that pigeon hole is small, and limited, and frankly, reeks of shit and patronization.

In a country whose greatest liberty is freedom of the press, we should not have to dig for honest, unbiased news in obscure, inaccessible places.  We should not have to fact-check our mainstream media, where pundits masquerade as news anchors.

You ask why newer generations do not turn out for elections, shaking your head and tsk-tsk-ing at our perceived apathy.  I will tell you why: We believed what we were taught growing up.  That America was the land of dreams and opportunity, with more freedoms than any other country.  The land others aspired to, flocked to, and where we accepted new-comers who were willing to work and strive for the American dream as equals.  We believed that our system of government was superior in its checks-and-balances, truly a government OF the people and BY the people.  We believed that every vote counted, and that each of us had the potential to be president.  We believed that we were the very banner of democracy, with a true separation of church and state, where ones morality trumped any specific religion (or lack thereof).

But as we became adults, what we learned was that America was willing to deprive whole groups of citizens of their rights and liberties.  That America could turn it's back on allies and slam the doors on new-comers - even those who fought along side us for freedom.  That the government was willing to exploit loop-holes in the checks-and-balances, following the letter but not the spirit of the law.  That our votes only counted if you agreed with one of two parties, and that depending on what state you lived in, the electoral college could prevent yours from counting even then.  We learned that no one was listening, even when we screamed and protested and wrote letter after letter.  We learned that even the most white-bread, mainstream, wholesome-as-apple-pie American could be - and would be - sidelined in favor of radicalism on both ends of the spectrum.

And we gave up.

But I, for one, am no longer willing to throw my arms up in despair and walk away.  I will match the vehemence of the fringe in my devotion to being level-headed, fair, sensible, open-minded, and flexible.  I will vote in every election I can, and when I do not have a feasible option for candidate, I will write in my own name.  I will find news from across the spectrum, challenging my own ideas and preconceived notions whenever possible.  I will struggle with issues and try to discover solutions, rather than pointless complaints.  I will change my mind after well-reasoned debate.  I will grow in my beliefs and never forget the founding principles that every American holds dear.  I will no longer let this system sideline me.  I will remember that the bones of a revolutionary political system are still here, and that it is my duty as an American to resurrect that system and call upon it to function better than it ever has.

• I believe in a true separation of church and state - not only because it is one of the central tenets of our country, but because it is the only way to allow expansive freedom to those who are passionate about their religion.
• I believe the government should be run the way a company is run - a mom-n-pop company, not an Enron - which is to say with tight-fists, budgets, and minimal credit.  Fiscal accountability is central to our ability to maintain our own internal systems, as well as our position in the global economy.  
• I believe that as a general rule of thumb, less government is better.  But I also believe that we have a responsibility to care for the least fortunate of our fellow citizens and to provide oversight in certain critical areas, like health care, education, and economic policy.  I do not think the two are incompatible.
• I believe the United States should fight to restore its status as an innovator, removing barriers to invention, small business, and independent ventures wherever possible, while severing our ties to thinly-disguised monopolies and lobbies.
• I believe our borders should remain open to those who do not threaten our well-being.  I believe current generations should be able to fight for a life here, just as my family did generations ago.
• I believe we should work to expand the liberties and rights of our citizens, rather than restrict them.
• I am unwilling to trade my rights, freedoms, and liberties for the promise of safety, no matter how tempting.  I am not willing to sully the efforts and sacrifices of our soldiers by gouging out the core of our own freedom.
• As the grand-daughter of a man who was prisoner of the Japanese for more than three years, and simply as a human being, I believe torture is wrong under any circumstance, under any name.
• I believe our country's leaders should aspire to unparalleled levels of education, experience, idealism, compassion, and innovation.  I believe, as intelligent people, they should be able and willing to try new approaches, admit failures, change their opinions based on the evidence at hand, and correct course without undue hesitation.
• I believe that as a population, we should likewise be willing to do the same.

I am an extreme moderate.  I am listening, candidates.  Are you listening to me?

Thanks to Cecily's recent posts about disenfranchisement and patriotism for giving me the inspiration to launch into this.  And to the book Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali for giving me an opportunity to think about the U.S. from the outside looking in.

The U.S. Health Care Crisis and This Family

[I began this post a couple of days ago.  Now, with fallout from Ike, all the trouble with the U.S. market, and the documentary on 9/11 that I watched last night, I feel like this might be just too much complaining.  But I'll try and wrap it up and hit "post" anyway.  Pardon my self-involved-ness.]

I'm not entirely sure how to begin this post, except to say that the state of health care in the United States (sorry, my international readers, to bother you with this) is failing the the middle-class almost entirely.  I can only speak for my family and our experiences, but I believe that we are fairly representative of the middle class in this country in most ways, so extrapolate as you will.

This family's past experiences with health insurance have been less than ideal.  And I don't think we're alone there.  Some of you may remember that it cost us $17,000 to bring Hannah home from the hospital.  And that's WITH insurance.  To make sure you know I didn't accidentally add a zero, that's seventeen THOUSAND dollars.  That was the cost of an uneventful (as these things go) five-day NICU stay.  The hospital, birth, and NICU stay were all covered under our insurance.  But the NICU doctors?  Well, they were out of network.  "Oh, you want doctors with your hospital stay?!  Well, that's extra, ma'am." Apparently, you're supposed to shop around for an in-network physician when your newborn stops breathing. 

I filed three appeals, taking it all the way to the Texas State Board of Insurance.  When they informed me that my plan (an employee plan under Todd's job at the time) was a loop-hole policy that was not governed by the state board, and that I'd have to take it up with the U.S. Department of Labor, I gave up.  I had a nine-month-old and too many other issues going on.  And that's exactly what the insurance company was hoping for.

Our next health insurance plan was also provided by Todd's employer - but it was done as a favor, and so we covered our part, plus the part the employer usually pays for.  Which mean we shelled out close to $1,000 a month for our coverage.  Our deductibles weren't high, but they weren't low either.  We still paid out-of-pocket for my post-Hannah surgery and diagnostic procedures, as well as Caroline's birth.  Lucky for us, Caroline didn't test this plan's NICU provisions - though I had already worked for phone for more than four hours to discover that the same problem existed.  I literally carried a list with me of NICU doctors who were covered under our plan and a phone number for my mother to call immediately, should Caroline have needed treatment from a non-network doctor.

Shortly after Caroline was born, we switched to an independent policy.  Our new policy was quoted around $450 a month - a significant savings for us - even though it didn't cover maternity, mental health, and came with super-high deductibles.  When they reviewed our application, however, they deemed Caroline a risk because she was on reflux medicine, and Todd a risk because of his BMI.  So we ended up paying $580 a month.  Which still looked good, compared to the other.

It wasn't until after we were on the plan for a month that I began to feel the pinch of some of the drawbacks.  Each family member has a $500 prescription deductible, so we paid for all of Caroline's medicines out-of-pocket last year, and this year.  To say nothing of the medicines they simply choose not to cover, which we pay full price for.  And each individual family member has a $2500 medical deductible, which means we are now paying the full $2300 for Caroline's ear tubes.

At this point, my family is actively avoiding medical diagnostics, treatment, and medications specifically because of our insurance. 

Case in point: I had my annual exam yesterday.  There were several issues.  Firstly, my period has not returned, which my doctor and I feel likely indicates the Asherman's has returned and the scarring is preventing my period.  When I had my last hysteroscopy following Hannah's birth, my doctor made a point of telling me that he found calcified scars and necrotic tissue.  He advised me not to wait as long the next time.  It seems that harboring decaying tissue in your internal organs isn't a particularly good idea.

In order to diagnose Asherman's, I'll need an HSG.  But I have serious doubts about whether or not my insurance will pay for it.  And even if they do, the surgery I'd need to remove the scarring would have to be paid for out-of-pocket ($2500 deductible).  [I called this afternoon, and they do not cover any lab work or diagnostics until after you've met your deductible.]

Then there's my father's heart attack.  My doctor feels (as I do) that it would be a good idea to get baseline levels for cholesterol and basic blood work done, given my family history.  Actually, it's a good idea, period.  But we received notice from our insurance company that they're upping our premium as of November to $640 per month.  So, if we're going to need to shop around again, I can't have any borderline blood work or bad diagnostics of any sort floating around in my file.

So my doctor wrote out orders for all my various test and told me to pursue them when we can.

If you'll recall, we just moved from our big, comfy, middle-class suburban home to a free home in the boonies specifically to save money.  This move, as well as our general financial situation cannot entirely be attributed to our health care costs, but a significant portion can be.  After all, when you take $17,000 and put it on credit cards, home equity loans, and the like, you know what it does?  It grows.  Then, heap on another bill every time you think you're about to get ahead.  Then let that grow.  Then increase the cost of the coverage you do have while simultaneously diminishing the actual services covered.

What you get is a woman standing at the counter at CVS crying for all the world to see because she never, ever thought she would have to choose which of her children got medicine and which didn't.

____________________________________

Let me also touch on a bigger quality-of-life issue that my family is facing: no maternity coverage.

Both Todd and I are independent contractors.  We don't have any company to provide coverage to us.  We have to submit to physicals and qualify for a plan.  And here's something people don't realize until they're in our position.  Independent health plans do not cover maternity.

A few have maternity riders, which pay out LESS THAN YOU PUT IN, if you take the time to do the math, and cap at around $2500.  But beyond that, they simply don't cover it.  As a result, I spend a good week or so every few months freaking out.  We cannot afford to have a baby.  And I don't mean that in the "gee, kids are expensive" way.  I mean we cannot afford to get past the first trimester - let alone the delivery.

And yet, the current government administration has made more moves against birth control that I care to count - even going so far as to try and classify oral contraception as a form of abortion just last month. (That really deserved a whole other post about how the people involved really should have taken a science course in high school, since the pill prevents ovulation entirely, and thus there is no fetus or clump of cells or even an EGG!) But I digress...

My point is this: How can you try your level best to encourage me to get pregnant ("you" being our current governmental institutions, and "me" being a married, monogamous, white American) when you refuse to offer any reform or intervention to provide for my medical care so that I can actually give birth safely? 

__________________________________

I've mentioned before that I don't feel well-aligned with either of our two dominant political parties.  I think they both miss the boat by a pretty wide margin.  Overall, I find myself agreeing with most Libertarian stances, but with a few big exceptions.  And since the Libertarian party is not able to put forth a viable presidential candidate, I have to make my political decision based on the issues that are most important to me, and those that impact me most directly.

Health care is one of those exceptions and one of those issues.

I saw a report on 20/20 a while back where John Stossel talked about approaching health care in the U.S. as any other free market, where supply and demand self-regulate cost.  It was all well and good when you're talking about the common cold and LASIK.  Sure, shop around.  Ask questions. Bargain.  Ask for discounts.  Put aside money in your health savings accound. 

But the instant something major happens, the free market concept goes out the window.  Whether it's an infant who's not yet ready to breathe, or cancer, or a massive injury - nearly every family will, at some point or another, face a medical crisis that cannot be boiled down to the least expenisve vendor - a crisis that revolves around split seconds, or geographical limitations, or specialized expertise.

Something has to change. I do not believe that the United States is incapable of coming up with a solution that can adequately care for our citizens.  Our current system is failing.  It isn't providing adequte care and it is driving average, middle-class Americans into bankruptcy with regularity.  

On an entirely different 20/20, I saw Stossel reporting on the "happiest people in the world" (Denmark - accorind to this study).  It turns out that when you add a homogeneous population with a stable economy and tons of government-sponsored programs for everything from education to health, you get some remarkable contented people.  "Yeah," I scoffed, "but they're paying taxes out the wazoo!" 

And the are - about 50%, on average.  "But wait!" I said to Todd, "as independant contractors we each pay 33% of our income in taxes, and we get NONE of the benefits they just outlined!"  I had a bit of a hard time wrapping my head around that one.

To be clear - I am not in favor of socialized medicine.  For one, I don't think it will ever work in this country.  There is too much power and money tied up in the private insurance industry to ever completely dissolve it.  But secondly - and just as important - I do not trust our government to make medical decisions for me.  (Perhaps I've hinted at this in the past.)  The reach of our federal and state governments into our personal lives (medical care and privacy ranking near the top of said personal life) is already too far and deep, in my opinion (see also, Libertarian tendencies).  To have a health care system that is in actuality another arm of the government, just imagine what liberties could be taken away. 

I believe there has to be a middle-of-the-road solution.  And so far, Obama's health care plan is only one that seems to incorporate both a privatized system with more oversight and intervention, plus an extension of coverage to those who cannot participate in the private option.  To me, McCain's plan reads more like a list of suggestions and ideals than actual steps.  And it relies heavily on the industry itself to respond to "pressure" from individuals to reform itself.  I might have believed that was possible, had I not been on the losing end of that teeter-totter so many times in the past.

______________________________________

What do you think?  Have you got a great idea to heal our insurance woes?  Or do you need a moment to vent along with me?  I'm praying that someone finds a solution - and fast.

Sheesh

Ah, well.  I forgot - a sense of humor and any lightheartedness flies out the window when it comes to politics. 

I thought I'd point out a few things, though, in the selfish interest of self-defense:

1.  I didn't make a single negative comment about her children's names.  Yes, it's implied that I find them different, and, when those two (of the five) are listed together, unfortunate.  Not having the time to do a single scrap of investigating (see previous - and ignored - post about unfortunate computer situation), it left me wondering if she had a Duggar all-same-first-initial thing.  Which is one of those idiosyncrasies that annoys me.  But she doesn't.  And I do quite like two of her other names.  That being said, I've been known to rib relatives and friends about their name choices. (And strangers - I made big, big fun of Gweneth Paltrow and Celebrity Baby Blog is a frequent source of amusing scoffs.)  And they return the favor.  I'm sure many of you find my family's preference for traditional names equally distasteful.

2.  Yes, Hannah is a common name.  It was my one big hang-up about choosing it.  But once Todd heard it suggested, he latched on with a ferocity that could not be dissuaded.  I offered up alternative after alternative, but to no avail.  He argued that we didn't actually know anyone else - friend, family, or relative - who shared the name.  And then one day in an e-mail in which we were discussing names, he said he wanted Hannah so when he came home from work he could say, "Where's my Hanny-Fanny?!"  At which point my heart exploded and I ceased offering up alternatives.

Of course, her first day at Gymboree, amongst a sea of other Hannahs confirmed my fear, but I've come to terms with that.  So much so, that I'll be the first to laugh along and agree at our lack of originality. (Go ahead - write a post about it.  You'll see!)

I'm sure Palin has equally moving, or at least interesting, explanations for all five of her children's names.  And I'm sure she, like me, wouldn't be surprised if some don't share her taste.

 

3. I didn't make a single political statement. Not a one.

4.  Do my politics line up with Palin's?  No.  Nor do mine line up with any other candidate out there at all period.  Not a one.  Many of you either weren't here way back when I first began talking about politics, or have completely forgotten that I've spent the vast majority of my life as a Republican.

But I've been pretty clear about the fact that the Republican platform and agenda began to diverge from my own beliefs in ways that became increasingly difficult to ignore.  Clearly, the issue of choice is one of those that hits close to home for me.  But so do others.  Which is not to say my politics line up with the Democratic platform, either.  I have some pretty big divergences there, too.

5. Yes, it was petty.  Many sarcastic jokes are.   

So if some of you want to read my one-line comment about two of Palin's children's names as some sort of manifesto, well, I can't stop  you.  But I can tell you that your ire is likely a waste of good time a passion... sort of like this post.

Lemme Get This Straight

Two of her sons are named Trip and Track?

I Came, I Saw, I Caucused

Well, I tried, at least.

Last night was both amazing and troubling for me as a first-time primary voter.  I voted in the primary last week as an early voter.  Then yesterday, at 7:00, I showed up at my precinct to caucus.  We were told that the caucuses would begin promptly at 7:15, or when the last voter had cast their ballot in the primary, whichever was later.

The parking lot at the elementary school that serves as our polling place was slammed.  I took Hannah with me because I thought she might like it.  I left my non-voting slacker of a husband home with Caroline and promised to try and return in time to put her down for the night.

We waited outside for a while and at 7:15 some sort of official came out and told us that there were still people voting and we'd have to remain outside until they were done.

Fine.  No biggie.  But half an hour later, Hannah had lost her patience (the free stickers and buttons only held her off for so long), and declared that she needed to go potty.

We made our way inside and I asked where the restroom was.  We were directed down a long hall, and when we turned the corner, I realized we wouldn't be staying long enough to caucus.  This hallway ran the length of the school - at least a quarter of a mile - and it was filled with a row about four people wide that went the length of the hall and out the door at the other end.

When I voted early, I waited for approximately 15 minutes to get through a line of ten people.  There was no way they would be able to convene the caucus within the next few hours, and there was no way I could stay, given the weather and my two kids.

I was so pleased with the turnout - more than I've seen, frankly, for even a presidential general election.  But I wish there were provisions for dealing with such a high turnout successfully.  Watching the polls come in, I really wish I'd gone back up after putting the girls back down, but I didn't. 

So there you have it.  Score one for democracy.  Sort of.

Sooner

Back in college, my boyfriend and I had an ongoing debate about who was more likely to become president first: a black man or a white woman.  It was a rather cynical debate in which he, as a black man, argued that white America would sooner welcome a woman into the oval office than anyone black.  I, as a woman (okay, girl), conversely argued that the male-based power structure would rather have a man of any color than a woman for president.

It was a friendly wager, and one we both pessimistically felt would never be answered in our lifetime.  (I know - whatever happened to youthful optimism?)  I am still amazed that there's a chance (albeit, not a sure thing) that we may find out before this year is out.  I haven't spoken with my old boyfriend in a few years, but I bet he's equally amazed.

I wish I could remember what he'd owe me if Obama wins...

So That's What It Feels Like to Matter

I've been caught off guard over the past two weeks with the amount of political attention suddenly focused on my state.  For all of my voting life, Texas has been a write-off state - an assumption - and as such, completely ignored by national-level politics.  Particularly democratic politics.

But now, we've got some pull.  Some leverage.  Some say-so in the form of the democratic primaries.  And I have to say, it feels good.  I had forgotten what it feels like to know your vote may actually count for something.

I'm not even a declared democrat.  I'm squarely in the independent camp, with strong tendencies that recklessly cross those red and blue lines in multiple places.  But here in Texas, any registered voter can vote in a primary.  But they can only choose one.  In other words, if you vote in the democratic primary, you can't in the republican (or independent, if there were such a thing).  And when the general election rolls around, you're free to vote for whomever you choose, regardless of party.  Since the democratic primary is really the only one with a looming question mark, it's a pretty easy choice.

So Todd and I both watched the debate last night (if you know Todd - the most a-political creature in the world - this was amazing in and of itself) and reveled in the feeling of mattering.  It made me feel giddy - almost like a naive teenager who hasn't yet learned that the world does not, in fact, rotate around her.  And I couldn't be happier to know that come November, I'll be making a choice between candidates I feel are capable, honest, and truly value voters.

Not to mention the joy I feel at the prospect of having a president who can actual string words together while speaking publicly!  What a change of pace!