Controlling my Blood Pressure: Bitter-Free
Tue Apr 15, 2008 at 06:02:47 PM PDT
Hey, gang:
I'm reemerging around here after taking a break. I watched MSNBC long enough on Friday night to witness the early seeds of Bittergate -- and I just managed to turn off the tube before small pieces of my brain began to trickle out of my left ear.
After months of phone-banking and blogging and begging and cajoling and delivering signs and stickers and literature and conventioneering for days, I was forced to stage an intervention on myself. And Bittergate gave me the perfect excuse.
I promised myself to avoid Kos, MSNBC, CNN, NPR and the newspapers -- and, with a couple of notable exceptions, I did. Here's how, and I recommend it to you all...
Thank God for the whole "bitter" tempest in a tiny little Clinton teapot, actually. Without it, I would have spent most of Friday smacking my wrists and inner elbow with a jones on. Based on the shit the media was shoveling by early evening Friday, I knew I was better off simply staying away.
Turns out, I have a kid, house, a garden, two dogs, four cats, neighbors, an assload of good books, friends, and an entire life that DOESN'T hinge on Obama or the primary. Who knew?
Friday night, the small person -- who was absolutely DELIGHTED not to have to listen to politics during prime time -- helped me finish planting out our porch container garden and front flower beds. As she started planting her own small pots of seeds, she asked if we could always turn off the TV on Friday nights. Wow. Talk about hitting me straight between the eyes with my primary addiction.
We went to dinner, we crawled into bed and made a bedspread tent, we talked girl talk and we snuggled ourselves to sleep. And we slept like babies. Why? Because I hadn't fallen asleep during Bill Maher. Or Keith Olbermann. I didn't wake up with a jolt as the commercials cranked up during a re-run of the execrable Dan Abrams.
And the rest of the weekend unfolded the same, blissful way. Reminded me of all the stuff I love, and simply haven't been making the time for. It took Bittergate -- and the avoidance thereof -- to get me stuck back into the good stuff.
Stuff like the way dirt feels under your fingernails after an afternoon of planting. How fantastic cinnamon rolls taste when they're hot out of the oven -- BEFORE the icing, when they're so good and hot you don't need to gild the lilly. How funny those first, early jokes are when they're delivered by an eight-year-old whose eyes are shining with how much they love you.
How cool a new lime-green bike with the words "Rip Claw" on the chain guard can look to a five-year-old neighbor still sporting training wheels. How great soap smells at the end of a long, sweaty day. How fabulous coffee smells and tastes on an early spring morning.
How sweet chubby little arms feel when they snake around your neck from behind. How incredible live jazz can sound when you turn the corner and stumble across it unexpectedly. How deliciously sleepy one strong, sweet drink can make you when you're already tired and ready to head to bed.
How much fun it can be to take a ride with your kid, her on her new bike, you on your scooter, on an early spring morning. How great it is to bump into friends you haven't seen in months, and catch up on life news over a quick latte. How much a dog can and will love you after a long walk or a special treat or, even better, both. How much a cat can and will love you after 20 minutes of light scratching behind the ears.
How great it is to clean out stacks of paperwork and rid yourself of two large bags of crap. How amazing it is to wash, dry and fold the last load of laundry in the whole house.
It's Tuesday night. I'm back here, I'm back in the game a bit, but I'm trying my best not to harsh my new mellow.
Bitter? Not a fucking chance, Hills. Life is great. My kid's even better.
Get Bitter over Bittergate?
After this weekend, you can't make me.
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