Have I Mentioned?

Have I mentioned how much I love our soon-to-be President? I do. I really do. I love that he read all the Harry Potter's with his daughter. I love that he wants a shelter dog, "A mutt, like me" he said in a press conference the other day. I love that there was a press conference in which a major topic of discussion was what kind of dog they will be getting in the White House. I also love that in an interview he talked about reminding his daughters about the cold weather in DC. Who will walk the dog when it gets cold out?

Um, you live in the White House. I don't think you have to walk the dog in the dead of winter. But, again, that's why I love him - it appears that the fact that he has all the dog-walker hiring power in the world, it doesn't occur to him. Or, he's hip enough to keep a hold on the importance of responsibility, even when it comes to freezing your ass off walking to dog..

I was chatting with my friend and quasi-sister Jen today. We talked about our experiences on election day and I was charmed by her story. She had gone to the poling booths with her daughter, seven year old Lilly (she's the cutie modeling the shirt at right for my etsy site) and at the polling place, there was a booth for kids to vote in. Not for real of course, and the ballot was simplified (good thing, "How did you vote on the legalization of marijuana, my seven year old High School Musical fan with pink sneakers and a collection of Pet Shop animals at home?").

"It was cute though," Jen told me, "I could hear her mumbling to herself in the booth, going down the list....'OhhhhBaaahMaaah...demmmmocrrrraaaat' - because she didn't know who the other people were - 'demmmmocrrrraaaat...demmmmocrrrraaaat'"

She was very proud. And Lilly got a bookmark and a pencil. I wish I got a bookmark and a pencil when I voted.

The King and (tr)I(athelete)

Rachel and I are on a ride home from dinner, chatting it up. She's trying to remember the name of a famous family who owns the building we are passing by, and being silly I blurt-out "The Kardashians?!" referring to a reality show about some rich family which I've only seen segments of. "That show is so random," I add, "It's like having The Brady Bunch with Dabney Coleman in it. Wait! No, I mean GARY Coleman in it!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Yul Brynner hanging-out with the Kardashians?" I point-out, in a don't-YOU-think-that's-a-wierd-pairing tone. Thinking about the random man who is dating the mom on the reality show, I find myself unable to find another example of a pairing more unnatural.
"That's weird considering he's dead." Rachel reports.
My synapses fail to fire and I assume she's making a joke about the fact that the man I am thinking of has had so much plastic surgery that he might as well be dead.
So I continue on, stretching my arms out in front of me like Frankenstein's monster. I joke about how he's kept alive by batteries, or perhaps a pull chord, "I'm running out of power! Give my cord a pull!" I say in a low voice, pumping my arms up and down slightly and bobbling my head. Thinking about how the man needs his strength, I add, "I'm a famous triathlete!"
"Triathlete? He was an actor!" Rachel announces.
"An actor?!" I'm still not catching my oversight and now we're both completely confused. Amused, but confused.
"Yeah, he was in The King and I. Yul Brynner?"
I burst out laughing and realize my mistake, "I meant Bruce Jenner!"


(And yes, I know now, he's a decathelete, not a triathelete.)