My friend Carla and I have been exchanging Sanrio gifts since the late '70's, so when I found a piece of Facebook flair--the computerized equipment of the buttons TGI Fridays employees use to decorate their suspenders--that showed three check boxes--an empty one next to McCain, an empty one next to Obama, and a checked one next to Hello Kitty--I had to send it to her.
Love of all things Kitty aside, it's a pretty sad world when the best presidential option I've come across since My Girl dropped out of the race is a playful cartoon cat.
McCain, let's face it, is anti-woman. My charter club membership in the Uterine Ticket pretty much negates any possibility I'll be casting my vote in his direction.
I am a registered Democrat, and one would think, then, that I would turn to the party of which I'm part and happily check on down the line. But Obama...
Obama is like a wedding cake. From afar, in the middle of the dancing, it looks great and you can't wait to sink your teeth into it. Then it lands on your plate, and up close it only looks okay. The first bite confirms that it looks a thousand times better than it tastes, and you eat it only because there's no other dessert option out there.
I'd love to be able to cast a vote FOR someone I want in office, not AGAINST someone I don't want.
But, in the end, I pretty much know where I'm going to go, even if I don't like it. Even if I'd rather be governed by a cat.