I am really getting excited about the possibilty of going to business school. Thank goodness...because not much else is exciting me these days! Work is killing me...nobody on my team is happy and I do not know how to make things better - all these b-school essays are about leadership and yet here I am with a group of fairly miserable employees and I am at a loss for how to turn things around. My unhappiness at the new company doesn't help things any! And I guess there is only so much you can lead when you have no power to affect any change. But I don't want to complain.

I want Wesley Clark to inspire me more. For some reason, I am not loving Howard Dean anymore - in fact he is bugging me. They are all bugging me. I am afraid of four more years of George W. Bush. But I have started to think that it is where we are headed...so I am trying to come to grips with it early.


Uninspired to write. I gotta snap out of it.

I am looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. I hope I am able to pull off soup for 10! Hopefully Space can help me (and maybe loan me a food processor and a big soup pot!)...he is a great cook and I would be very very psyched for his help...

I need to put down the "pen" for a while.

Last night Leslie said, "Men are like buses...there's always another one around the corner." And then Rocky said, "Men are like taxis, you can only get where you want to go if the taxi's light is on (i.e., if it's available)." Then we agreed that men are more like buses than taxis because whereas a taxi has his light on and that makes it obvious whether or not it is available, men often time are not that easy to read.

And anyway, last night, a few hours after I laughed at Leslie's metaphor, I started to wonder if she was, in fact, right about that theory. It seems that another bus may have come my way last night...but I don't know. We will see what happens. In the meantime, I am still a little sad about the bus I just left behind (or rather, the bus that left me behind!)...but I know I will get over it soon enough!

Time for bed...what a weekend...lots of activity, not a lot of productivity!

There are such great women in my family. I am so blessed.

One of the essays on the Berkeley application asks who, past or present, would you have dinner with if you could...and why? For the essay I am constrained to only invite one individual. But if I could truly invite anyone to a dinner party, past or present, I think I would invite myself.

I would invite six year old Marcy, the Marcy before her parents' divorce, to dinner. I want to know what it feels like to live in that house...do her parents fight a lot? Does she get to spend any time with her dad? What do she and Grandma do all day while they are hanging out? What is it like at school?

I would also invite ten year old Marcy..the Marcy who was so misbehaved her mom sent her to a child psychologist. Marcy who shared a room with her older sister. Marcy who got into fights at school. Marcy who stole money from her mother, bought cigarettes at "The Shop" and smoked them behind her building with other kids from school. What was she so pissed off about?

I would invite 13 year old Marcy...this is the Marcy that Donna M_____ threw a penny at and said, "Go home you big nosed Jew." The Marcy that held a protest in social studies because her teacher, Ms. Lenard, changed her seat. Marcy who had her first kisses with Josh Weissbard and David Yavneh. Marcy who decided to stop talking to her Dad. I would ask her if she remembers when she started to hate her body. I wonder if she is mad at her dad? How about her mom? And what does she think of her stepfather, Alan?

I would invite 16 year old Marcy...right after her nose job (see 13 y.o. Marcy!), right before her first serious boyfriend. In my memory she is confident Marcy...lots of good friends, ready to head off to college, meeting boys, falling in love, experimenting with sex. I want to ask her how she does it. How is she so brave, so willing to open up to new people? How did she let herself fall in love with Damian and him with her? How does she manage not to care what anyone else thinks of her?

Assuming there is still room at the table, I would invite 21 year old Marcy, the recent college graduate...This is the career-driven Marcy. The one who loved politics, believed in the power of liberal ideas and moved to Washington, DC, leaving her boyfriend behind, wanting to change the world. The Marcy who worked two jobs for eight months in order to pursue her career but also make extra money and meet new people. The Marcy who started to discover that politics in Washington, DC and politics everywhere else are vastly different. The Marcy who had the boss that was verbally abusive. The Marcy who watched her grandmother give up the fight when her cancer returned. This is also the Marcy who developed an anxiety disorder. I don't know that I have anything to ask her. But I would like to give her a hug.

I would invite 25 year old Marcy. The one who finally liked her job and her friends. The Marcy who met and fell in love with A___. She had been single for three years, dating here and there but nothing special. I want to ask her how she got through it and how, when she met A____, was she able to set aside her pain and her fears about relationships and let him see her, warts and all?

The last seat at the table, besides today's version of me, would be reserved for 29 year old Marcy. The Marcy closest in age to me today, she seems worlds away. She is the one who took chances by quitting her job at Levi's after only four months. She did Ironman. She let herself be vulnerable, let her friends pamper her and support her as she healed from her breakup. She tried online dating. She messed up a few potentially rewarding relationships...but she had fun meeting new kinds of men. She made several new, very special friends. I want her at the dinner so I can bask in the glow that surrounds her and see if I can remember how to find that confidence, that enthusiasm, that vulnerability, that self-acceptance in me now.

If only....

Wow...this blogger thing keeps changing. It seems like every couple of weeks the new post page looks different...I like this version now, in case you blogdudes are reading up on this.

If I get into graduate school, I am pretty sure it will be largely because of my mother's help with my essay questions. She has generated some great ideas that I have been a huge help to me! Of course, I have always known my mom is a genius...so why doesn't she apply to Harvard? How fun would that be for us to go together?

I cannot begin to think about moving away from this place. I love it here. I like making a six-figure income. I like living alone. I like being 2.5 miles from the Golden Gate Bridge. I like the farmers' market. I like - no, I love my friends. So, I am not going to think about it. Because realistically, I probably won't even get in. Maybe I will only get in to Berkeley...in which case I won't move and school will be relatively inexpensive!

Buzzie thinks I am being a wimp by not calling the boy. I think she is probably right but at the same time, I think I am right not to call. The truth is, I don't see that anything will be gained by it. And I am ready to move on. I really do not want to dwell on something that isn't going to go anywhere. Forward motion. That's what I am dedicating myself to these next few months.

You have got to be kidding me about this Reagan miniseries controversy. I cannot believe that CBS buckled under the pressure and canceled the show because Republicans didn't like what they thought the show would depict (nevermind that they didn't see a final version of the four-hour show, rather only saw trailers). This latest episode is just more evidence that the Republican party does not believe in free speech for people who don't agree with its politics or policies. And now they are complaining about a fucking movie? A DRAMATIZATION!?! What about all those Kennedy miniseries that included private conversations between Bobby and JFK - they are both dead so chances of those conversations having happened exactly as protrayed are, well, nil - and certainly there were times that the Kennedy family didn't like the movies (put together and distributed by librul Hollywood, no doubt) ...but nobody pulled them off hte fucking air. WHY DOESN'T ANYONE SEEM TO CARE ABOUT THIS KIND OF THING? WHEN WILL THIS NIGHTMARE BE OVER?

Katie Couric, I decided, is a media whore.

Nine years since Grandma died. Nine fucking years. And I forgot to call mommy today. I never forget. But she knows that deep down I am remembering. It is amazing how hard it is to deal with death...you simply never stop missing the person. Of course, in time you miss them less...I don't know...less acutely. But the missing never goes away. In fact, with Grandma it gets deeper...I miss being able to tell her what's going on in my life. I miss introducing her to the important people in my life. Nine years. In these nine years I have moved across the country, had six jobs, had one serious relationship (plus a couple of not so serious ones and a bunch of crushes), completed twelve triathlons - including Ironman, completed three marathons, taken the LSAT, taken the GMAT, owned three cars and three bicycles, lived in five different apartments....and on and on. So many things I wish I could share with her...hear her voice, hug her...I would even let her frost my hair like she always wanted to.

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I can hardly believe that my marathon was a week ago today. It seems like so much longer ago than that. At the same time, NYC Marathon, which I did a year ago, seems like it was just yesterday. Strange how that works.

I am procrastinating. I have to write my application essays but it has been hard to get a groove on so I am stalling. I should not be surprised. What did I expect, applying to Harvard, Stanford, Columbia and Berkeley? One of the hardest things about the essays is that they are forcing me to take an honest look at my life, my career, my passions, my goals. One of the hardest questions - and it's one of the first I decided to tackle - is, "What are three substantial accomplishments and why do you view them as such?" I got two...but the third one is proving to be elusive. And I wonder, is that because I haven't actually accomplished much? Or is it because I don't see some of my achievements as substantial accomplishments? I mean, if I thought it would fly, I would say that one of my substantial accomplishments is having survived my life up to this point. Of course, my survival and the survival of someone who dealt daily with the threat of danger, who was abused physically and/or emotionally, who was disabled, who was poverty-stricken, et cetera, et cetera, does not necessarily compare. Nonetheless, I did survive. Shit, I survived Junior High School 202! I survived Howard Beach! I survived Leo and Maria Marino, Lisa and AnnMarie the bus bullies, and Dianna Migliaccio! Can I write my essay about that? I survived low self esteem and body image issues. I survived my cheating college boyfriend and a number of sex-starved college boys. I survived my grandmother's cancer and her death. I survived near-crippling anxiety. I survived working 7:30am to 2am, five days a week for nine months. I survived an abusive boss. I moved across the country without connections or a job and I survived. I was depressed and I survived. I had three male roommates, I shockingly survived! I was single for three years and I survived! I survived four years of an emotionally stunted relationship. I survived 9/11. I survived Ironman. I made it to 30. And here I am, on my own, surviving 31. So, isn't that a substantial accomplishment?

But there is this to add.

Who knew he would turn out to be an uncommunicative p***y like so many other men I have known? I had no idea. I don't know why I still think about him all the time...I don't know why I leave open the possibility that he will call, that he will want to talk, that he will want to...I don't know what. But the truth is, seeing this side of him, this side that doesn't know how to confront difficult feelings or issues, makes him less attractive to me. Why do people find it so hard to show up? I mean, don't get me wrong, even the most enlightened people can't show up all the time. I certainly find it hard to show up all the time (and I am far from enlightened). Sometimes it's exhausting and I just want to shut off. But, I do try to at least feel, acknowledge what I feel and somehow live it out. Is it so much to ask that the other people I share my time with do the same, at least some of the time? Perhaps it is. We don't exactly live in a world of self-awareness.

It's almost election day. I am still not sure who I will vote for in the Mayor's race. Probably Angela Alioto. I mean, I think I will end up voting for Gavin Newsom (or Gabbin' Nuisance, as Buzzie likes to call him) in the run-off, but I would like it to be a race between him and Angela, because I think she will force some important issues to be discussed. As it stands now, there is so much noise with all the candidates, and all that's really being talked about is who is more liberal than the next guy and how fucked we are going to be without real leadership, a la Willie Brown. So I think an Angela/Gavin runoff would be good to get the candidates talking about real issues...because she is a straight talker and she will call him on his yuppy bullshit...and I know he is a good liberal pragmatist at heart, so I know he will be able to answer her. But if the uber-liberals keep at it, they make themselves, and not the issues, the story and Gavin will never have to answer any truly difficult questions. Anyway, I will vote for her to make sure she gets into the runoff. It's pretty cool that I get to do that, you know. Of course there is a risk...Neither of them might make it to the run-off. Then what?

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I have really been having the writing itch lately. But not this Blog writing...I am sort of over it, to tell the truth. I have been feeling very introspective about my place in the world, the place my life sits right now and the next steps for me. Spending the weekend in DC, the city where I started my career and developed a lot of my dreams, as well as suffering through a dig-deep marathon day, helped stir some of these feelings up, too. But until I finish these applications, I cannot indulge my writing fancies too much. I want to get these essays completed and behind me and then I can move on to the next phase.

George Bush's press conference yesterday was, in a word, appalling. I listened to most of it on the radio and found him to sound bored and arrogant...like there was some place else he would rather be than talking to the American people. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was his LAME attempt at humor when taking reporters' questions...he didn't sound funny, he sounded mean.

He has got to go.

I now know what it means to be sick as a dog...Well, at least today I feel like I can honestly say I am sick as a dog. I feel like utter shit. My nose is completely stuffed up, I have about three cold sores around my mouth (to make up for the three years of none, I suppose), my quads are still incredibly sore from the marathon this weekend and I am simultaneously sweaty and cold. A fitting finale to this past week.

I did the Marine Corps Marathon on Sunday. I can't say I enjoyed any of it, to tell the truth. I tried to have fun...I even hooted and hollered whenever we entered a tunnel, I highfived the marines on the side of the road, I smiled at people calling out to me, "GO MARCY!" But for some reason my heart just wasn't in it. I think it's because I woke up that morning totally shvitzing, as my people say, and never quite got comfortable. Then, the fact that there was no water until approximately mile 2.5...and the water station was so crowded that I couldn't even get in there to get any. So I was stuck with no water until the next stop around mile 4.5...So I was in a deficit early on and was kind of annoyed, worried about how it would manifest in the later miles. Let me say, I sure did find out!

I do need to recognize that I should have carried my own water with me...Lesson learned for sure. When I wanted to take my first Clif Shot, around mile 7.5 or so, I had to leave the sweet, syrupy flavor in my mouth until around mile 9 when the next water station was available. No water from miles 6 - 9. What kind of race organization is that, anyway? (I found out later that the race organizers were worried about people over-hydrating so they made less water available. Brilliant...instead they underhydrated us, in the 90% humidity!, and treated more people in med tents on the course than in the race's 28 year history.) Anyway, things were great until about mile 16 when I suddenly had to pee really badly and couldn't get over to the side of the road soon enough! I peed on myself a bit before ducking behind a tree next to some government building (across from the HHS building) and went to the bathroom. After that I picked back up but started to feel a little woozy...I really needed something to perk me up but the idea of a Clif Shot made me, well, a little ill. So, I busted out some Sharkies, thinking I probably needed some electrolyte replacement (I was so sweaty my fingertips were pruning like they do when I spend too much time in the bath). I walked a bit and then started running again, feeling better. Then I got around mile 18+ and was suddenly more miserable than I had been all day. My left quad totally stopped operating. I felt like I could barely run anymore. I wondered how much of it was in my head - was I just talking myself out of this marathon because it wasn't fun? I tried to push through...walked every now and again but tried to keep it to a minimum. If I kept it up, I wouldn't make my 4:15 goal but I could potentially make 4:20, still a PR. Then I saw Mark and I tried to smile for his camera...I was happy to see him but really wanted to just keep moving forward. I wanted to see mile 21 - I had seen it earlier on the start of this loop I was on and was really looking forward to gettin there because I knew I would be almost finished. Once I got to mile 20, I tried to psyche myself up by visualizing my 6.2 mile Presidio Loop...my autopilot run. And it worked a little because I did end up climbing a hill pretty similar to the Presidio Hill and I felt right at home. But at this point, I was walking more than I was running. I got onto the 14th Street bridge...a LONG LONG lonely bridge...I tried to just keep moving forward and telling myself that there really will be a finish line, though I was starting to doubt even that! Then, the miles just ticked themselves off and I gave up on making any particular time across the finish line. I just wanted to get there without puking, without stopping, without quitting. I hoped I could do it within 5 hours but I wasn't sure and I wasn't putting any pressure on myself to do so.

Finally, I knew I was near the end because I heard the music and the crowds started to get bigger and bigger. I was able to pick it up a bit towards the very end...around mile 25.5 or so. I had a sense that I would be able to finish before 4:40...so I went for it. And I did. Barely. 4:38:52. Oy.


I did have a nice time in DC, though. Mokypa and Mort were awesome hosts...they treated me as if I was one of their kids! Their home was comfortable and they were great to hang out with and spend time. It was great to see Amanda, a total trip to see Ryan. I wish I had gotten to see Kevin but for whatever reason we were unable to hook it up.

Well, I am sure this is all incoherent...I am sweating my ass off here in San Francisco, another severe change in weather that has certainly added to my ill health.

And, I am off to DC for the marathon...I haven't been back since I left in 1995...for so many reasons I left that place and never once looked over my shoulder. I wonder what it will be like to be there...living in DC was seriously one of the least happy times in my life. I hope the memories that come back are good ones.

And I hope I am able to come up with a clever slogan to wear on my running shirt during the marathon. God forbid people think my red white and blue outfit means I am a Patriot as definied by the Bush Administration.

I am getting excited for the Presidential campaign to really heat up! Twelve years ago (12 years!) I was looking forward to primary season...it was a little different being on the East Coast and road tripping to New Hampshire to volunteer for Bob Kerry (my first choice candidate)...and then, of course, being so active in the College Democrats and then working for the Massachusetts Democratic Party. I was at the center of the action! And then, I was graciously given the most amazing opportunity and experience, hired as the Massachusetts student coordinator for Clinton Gore/Victor 92...so of course this time around it will be a bit different. But somehow, I suspect I will be no less emotionally involved. In fact, I have a hunch I may be even more personally connected this time around. Because at this point, age 31, I know how crucial this is. In 1991/1992, when I was 19/20 years old, getting ready to graduate college, facing my adult life and my college loans, thinking about what kind of world I wanted to help create, all I wanted was a President that reflected my values and stood for the same kinds of things I stood for. That's why I was/am a Democrat, and have been for as long as I can remember (okay, when I was in fifth grade I had a brief moment where I tried to campaign at school for Lew Lehrman to be Governor of New York against Mario Cuomo because I believed so strongly in the death penalty; and in 7th grade I debated Beth Goldstein at a school assembly over the abortion issue - and I argued the anti-choice side! Clearly things changed - dramatically). But now, I am 31...I still want a President that reflects my values and stands for what I do. But I am not looking to change the world like I was when I got swept up in the Clinton Gore movement. Instead, I am looking to make sure there still is a world in generations to come.

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Why is it that some people (not me) are more cut out for corporate America than other people (me)? It's the part of me that is like my dad. The part that is creative and thinks big; but also the part that doesn't like authority or rules. Why, after seven years, have I still not managed to fit into this environment?

My friend Peter has a mantra that goes something like this, "Don't do anything just yet. The right thing to do will become obvious. Until then, just keep going with the flow." He has said it to me many times in the past. Times when I was thinking about breaking up with A___ (I did) or trying to figure out how/if to date Broadway (ouch) or toying with quitting my job at Levi's after only a few short months (I did)...It seems like such obvious advice. But it is also quite useful. I often use it on myself when I don't know what to do in a situation. It helps me to stop and take a breath before I dive head first into a decision. Maybe that's wimpy of me, but I actually think it saves me from taking steps I may later regret. Every day for the past week or so I have been reminding myself of this notion...to not do anything until the right thing to do becomes obvious. Of course, it's about a boy. I wish those things could be more cut and dried...that the right thing to do would be easy to determine. Alas, I am not so lucky. So I wait for the right thing to become obvious. And until then I try to be patient. Of course I take small steps, steps that seem at once right and crucial for sanity-preservation, while also seeming immature - like deleting him from my instant messenger or from my cell phone.

Will dealing with the opposite sex always seem like a repeat of high school, only older, with higher stakes?

What a great few days I have had...dinner last night was nothing but laughs (much needed after that heavy movie, Mystic River (which, incidentally, was beautifully acted and directed) and dinner tonight with one of my favorite husband and wife pairs was fabulous. They gave me a lot to think about as far as what I am passionate about and what is important to me. I am so grateful for friends like these.


On another note, sometimes I do not look people in the eye. It is something I have started to notice lately...and I don't like it. Usually it's people like the counterperson at a deli or the cashier at my lunch place. It's terrible and I don't know where it comes from but I have been making a concerted effort to stop it. I wonder how much better a community it could be if we were all able to look each other in the eye.

I am not feeling inspired. These business school applications are a bitch. About what am I most passionate? What is most important to me in the world? How am I supposed to answer those questions in 800 words? Especially after the whole rigarmarole with entering your undergraduate grades (which, by the way, is incredibly depressing...I mean, I knew I was doing poorly in school while I was there but I guess I didn't realize how poorly. And now that I see the grades, in hindsight, I think about how much I wasted by not paying more attention to the books and less attention to the boys!).

Even harder than writing the essays, I think, will be having other people read them. I mean, they are so personal and I will be looking for critiques...I am not sure I trust anyone enough to have them read and offer their perspective on these essays. Yet I have to do it. I am hoping that this blogwriting, knowing that I write really personal things and people read it and probably think some (or all of it) sucks and they see the typos and all that...I am hoping that it helps to make the essay-sharing a bit easier.

I love my mom.

On our drive home from Livingston, the chicken center of California, today, B__ and I listened to Governor Ahnold's first press conference. I will say that he did a good job of just handling the media. To be expected, of course, with his years of experience doing so. And he definitely seems likable. He makes jokes and he sounds honest. I have no doubt that his intentions are sincere. And my belief in this actually grew during the course of the press conference. Unfortunately, he still sounds like, well, like an idiot. I mean, he has no real plans for California other than to hire a team of independent auditors and see where our deficit is and then make some decisions about cutting services (because, as he reiterated today, he is not going to raise taxes). Unfortunately there is no place to cut from anymore, unless, of course, you count education, health care and the other safety net services government provides to those most in need. So, as I listened to the press conference, decided I like Ahnold well enough as a person (I guess) and decided he is still unqualified for anything remotely like governing, I wondered, "why did he even want this job?" As he said today, there will be no time for movies, there will be no time for anything (after all, California is a big state - he actually said this). Instead, he will be spending the next three years trying to figure out how to deal with the issues he inherited from Gray Davis, who inherited them from Pete Wilson. It's a losing proposition, I don't know why he wanted it or why the Republican Party wanted it (and I am sure they wondered that, too, during his press conference when he advocated work permits and visas for undocumented immigrants and talked about clean air, which sounded suspiciously like clean ears). I don't know why they didn't just wait it out, let the Dems continue to flail and then pounce on the Governor's office when they could really win. As it is, California is SCREWED and unless and until we repeal Proposition 13 so we can start getting some more money in the state's coffers - money we should have been collecting since, oh, I don't know, 1978! - we are not going to be able to dig out of it. We will never make money again like we did in the 90s...well, at least not for a while. We need the taxes and these homeowners and businesses who benefit from Prop. 13 are simply not paying their share. But, alas, Prop. 13 is untouchable for some reason...I guess the people who benefit from it have tons of money and tons of influence (the rich get richer)...so we will be screwed for a while.

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The wedding last weekend was amazing. So much love in the room. So much happiness. So much fun! The Aussie's were everything I expected them to be. They were crazy and they were fun and they were so inviting. Eri was, of course, the most gorgeous bride and J___ is stunning, too. Their families are clearly in love with each other and are so thrilled that these two found each other. I swear, from the time I arrived in Morristown, New Jersey on Friday night til I left on Sunday morning (at 5am), my cheeks hurt from smiling (except I wasn't really smiling so much during my 3 hour run). The square-dance ho-down on Friday, the incrediblly beautiful ceremony Saturday, the amazing reception Saturday night...all of it had me smiling ear to ear. The bride and groom were so gracious...the guests were so fond of them both and therefore, we were all so fond of each other...it felt like I had known them all for longer than the few hours I had known them. By the end of the reception, when I was standing on the dance floor with my arms around Fiona, Dave and Nicola swaying back and forth and singing this Australian song about a one night stand that everyone knows the words to (kind of like their version of singing the Piano Man at the end of a drunken night in college!), I realized that this wedding was exactly what it was supposed to be - a gathering of Eri and J___'s favorite people all sharing their love.

This marriage bar was set so low until some of my friends started getting married. Now I feel like the bar is set awfully high.

Shit. Ahnold is our Governor. Oh well, what can you do? Hope for the best, I guess. I mean, let's be honest...I hope he succeeds. I mean, if he can turn things around, more power to him, right? I am highly skeptical that he will actually do this - with a very small percentage of the budget going towards discretionary spending, the Governor does not actually have a lot of sway - but in truth, I hope he succeeds because California will be a better place if he does. Hopefully I will be gone by then, though, and will come back when a real Governor takes office.

Bright spots - both right-wing supported propositions failed.

In some ways the last 24 hours or so has been pretty interesting as far as national affairs goes. I mean, this whole business of an investigation into the "tawdry" tactics of the Bush administration outing Ambassador Wilson's wife as a CIA operative is rather interesting. Of course, the Democrats, seeing a political opportunity (and let's face it, that's what this is) are calling for a "special prosecutor" - a la Ken Starr, I suppose. Ha...we should be so lucky. Seems John Ashcroft has bigger balls than Janet Reno ever did and I have a strong feeling he won't bow to that pressure. At least not without a major fight. The Dems have a point, though. I mean, when the Justice Department calls the White House counsel's office and tells him to send a memo to the staff that they will be required to cooperate fully with the investigation, and the White House Counsel asks if he can wait a few hours before sending the memo out, and the Justice Department says okay...well, you see, that's a problem. Whether that is standard operating procedure or not is irrelevant. It seems wrong and that is enough to make the whole thing suspect. But even if a special prosecutor was appointed, the chances of getting one that is as rabidly opposed to this adminstration as Starr was to Clinton's are slim to none. I am interested to watch the whole thing as it unfolds. Though, knowing Karl Rove and his band of dirty operators, they will create some other kind of news (perhaps find another (fake) mobile weapons lab?) to get this stuff out of the headlines.

In other news, seems the Texas Republicans are now fighting with each other over their illegal, racist and downright dirty power grab aka redistricting! Ha...wouldn't it be ironic if it ended up not happening because the Republicans, after steamrolling the Democrats, couldn't quite bring themselves to fall lokstep behind the wishes of their fearless jackal Tom DeLay? I would laugh my ass off if the redistricting fell through.

And Arianna is out of the race. As if her two percent will help anyone at this point.