You Go Home With The Congressperson That Brung You

There's something about the day after the day after the State of the Union address that makes me want to take some time off of my usual routine and just mull over what our President said. Well,that's how I feel these years, at least. During the Bush years, I pretty much just wanted to take the day off and hit myself repeatedly over the head with a hammer.

I begin with a hard-hitting observation: Michelle's dress. Oy. I wanted to tell her what Grandma Eva used to say when she didn't like what her granddaughters were wearing: So, bubbeleh, so if you ever have the chence to not wear that dress again, so don't.

Still, I suppose that even Michelle is allowed a few Glamour "don't"s, so I'm gonna let it go and focus instead on the radical seating arrangement at the event.

I set out to do some research on seating arrangements of the past.

I began my research this morning by making Ak Mak and Swiss cheese sandwiches and taking them into my office. And then, being thirsty, I made some lemon and ice water. Then I had an EmergenC because my throat is feeling a little bit sore today and when your husband has cancer you have to hit the vitamin C super hard because you don't want to be the kind of wife who keeps interrupting your husband's body scan to complain to the radiologist about her sore throat. Even when your tongue has a white-ish coating on it and everything tastes like pennies and, frankly, sometimes it feels like my uterus is going numb. Oh wait, do I still have a uterus?

Hold on.

Hunh. Maybe.

I pulled down my pants just now but I had no idea where to look. So I called my sister and she said to stop bothering her every time I can't remember which body parts I still have.

Hey, my 58 year old sister didn't even know where her hymen was until, like, four years ago. See, that's what we get for all that 60's alternative education - a Sex Ed class where we made Fallopian tubes out of paper mache and miniature Abba Zabbas. So don't judge me for not knowing how to do a uterus check. It's hard enough to remember to put air in my tires.

I have no idea how to segue back to the SOTU address.

I'm not a fan of forced seating arrangements. I used to hate it when my teachers made us sit "bad kid - good kid". I guess the thinking was that the good would rub off on the bad, but all that rubbing just resulted in a rise in teenage pregnancy. Still, sitting that way was better than the dreaded "tall kids in the back" arrangement. Those of us girls who had reached our adult height in third grade -sporting Coke-bottle glasses and girl mustaches- were sent to the last row to sit with the boys and one, I don't know, nineteen year old man who, after ten years, still couldn't get the hang of long division, who threw flirty spitwads at the girly girls in the front row who were looking all petite and shit in their shirtwaist dresses.

I cannot imagine the social pressure that Mark Udall unleashed when he called for this unorthodox seating on Tuesday night. I bet for weeks, Congresspeople were waking up early, putting extra product in their hair, using the real deodorant instead of eco-friendly Tom's of Maine - which we all know, is useless in any situation other than fast asleep in a freezer - and bringing fresh muffins to work, all in the desperate hopes that they will be asked to sit with someone good at the speech. Except for Michelle Bachmann, of course, who has issues about sitting with Democrats. Personally, I think her issues are about sitting at all, since whatever huge bug she's got up her ass cannot be comfortable, but God bless.

Still, I wonder about what went on behind the scenes of the integrated seating. I wonder if they were all smiles and sweetness for the cameras and then Udall tweeted shit like, "For fuck's sake, DeMint, pop a Beano!"

I think next time they should sit by height. And the back row can throw spitwads at Clarence Thomas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Babara]

I hardly know where to start. I didn't think the dress was bad. I know where MY uterus is. I LIKE Tom's of Maine. Geez....now my head is all messed up.

[Madgew]

Ann, You are too funny and so early in the morning. I did no analysis on the speech so I am glad you filled me in on everything.

[Karen Jackson]

Dear sissy,
I am so sorry I was not home when you called. All those hours of suffering you must have endured, not knowing about the uterus and all...and yes, you still have your uterus and papier-mache fallopian tubes. But I do think they removed your Abba Zabba! (not to worry; I think it will grow back)

[Diane Hulme]

Ann,
Looks like humor runs in your family! Your blogs continue to cheer me up as you alway seem to have your finger on our pulse.

[Funny gloves]

These days its easy to mock politicians and less do yours parts. The article somehow talks the facts back in the time. I do support the points made above.