Bracketology

If there's one sport that could come close to dethroning baseball as our national pastime, it's basketball. And 'round this time of year, there's one sporting event that is ever so sacred in the minds of many Americans, one that millions jump on the bandwagon for.

No, kittens, I am not referring to the NCAA college basketball tournament itself.

I'm talking about these:

Behold, the almighty brackets. The grid so ingrained in the lives of so many sports fans (as well as wanna-be sports fans) that it itself has become a pop culture icon. Witness how many magazines and blogs have used said brackets to rank its "best-of" lists. Entertainment Weekly, for instance, recently had a bracket of the most popular television mascots of all time (which, by the way, was won by Flo the Progressive Lady).

It's not so much the teams that get that coveted nod on Selection Sunday that interests me, but rather, how and why people are so emotionally, and in many cases, financially, invested in the brackets themselves. Bracketology attracts all kinds, from the most hard core basketball fanatics who know how to properly spell coach Mike Krzyzewski's last name, to those who only know how to dribble a basketball, to those who claim ignorance yet, around March Madness, proclaim themselves to be the nation's foremost expert on the tournament.

I personally fall somewhere in the middle of not being totally ignorant, yet not quite understanding the whole thing. As a Connecticut resident, it is my birthright to follow the UCONN Huskies. Now, if you're new to the whole NCAA tournament, you may be thinking, "Connecticut? That tiny state next to New York? Land of Steady Habits? Basketball powerhouse?" Well, only for the last 20 years or so. In 1990, Jim Calhoun coached the Huskies to their first Big East title, and then took the team to the Elite Eight. We lost that game to Duke, starting a very long standing rivalry that culminated when we won the national title over Duke in 1999. And let's not forget Geno Auriemma, the Huskies coach who almost singlehandedly put women's basketball in the national forefront. His teams have gone undefeated for several seasons in a row and are known for winning back-to-back-to-back national titles.

I know some of the different basketball terms used: center, forward, point guard, half-court shot, full-court press, three-point line, shot clock, foul shooting. Just don't ask me what they mean, or who stands where on the floor.

Yet every year, I find myself drawn to the office pool, dutifully entering and paying my fee, and filling out those brackets. I have engaged in bracketology every year for the past decade. For the first few years, I found myself either in last place or third from last. But my fortunes gradually changed. For two years running, I was at the top of the leaderboard after the first and second rounds of play. But then I fell out of the running after the Sweet Sixteen. And I actually placed third in two separate tournaments--however, this was only after all of our picks for the Final Four didn't make it. (Can we say George Mason University in 2006, kids?)

So what exactly is the draw of the NCAA brackets? Do people use it as a form of escape? A get rich quick scheme? A chance to relive their college days? Whatever your level of participation may be kittens, I wish you all luck, and...GO HUSKIES!!!

And I thought the A and Piss Off was bad...

Atlanta bloggers, if you can vouch for what I'm about to write, please do so.

As many of you know, I am not a fan of my local grocery store, the A and Piss Off. I used to think it was the worst grocery store in existence...that is, until this afternoon, when I came across an article about a place called the "Murder Kroger" in Atlanta.

I won't describe the details, because you can read about it here and here. Proceed with caution.

In the Singlehood: Bridesmaid revisited

In 2001, I was a bridesmaid in my friend P's wedding. (Initials have been changed for privacy protection.)

When she asked me to be a bridesmaid, I was thrilled. She and her fiance had been together for so long, it was not a question of if, but when, he would propose. I had never been in a wedding before, so I was looking forward to the experience.

First came the dress shopping. Then came choosing the place for the reception. Then there were the honeymoon plans.

And then came the bridal shower.

Oh, how I hate bridal showers.

And I especially had a hard time with this one.

Here's a little bit of backstory: At the time of the bridal shower, in April of 2001, I was working in a full-time temporary position, in grad school full-time, and looking for a full-time, permanent position. In short, I had no money. P offered to pay for some of my bridesmaid expenses, like the shoes for my dress. I gratefully accepted.

But that's not the point.

Here's the real point:

It came at the bridal shower. As P opened up her fourth toaster oven, it suddenly hit me: She's getting all of her appliances for free. She has this registry where people can go buy her table settings and goblets and they just give them to her. All because she's getting married and moving out of her parents' house and into a new apartment.

One week after the wedding, I too, moved out of my parents' house and into a new apartment.

But I had to pay for my toaster. And my sofa. And my silverware.

Mama and Papa Cat helped me out, since I was a poor grad student with no money, but I was still feeling somewhat bitter.

Why can't there be single person showers? We have showers for women who are marrying or having babies, where they're getting a fresh start in life, and so we give 'em presents, sometimes useful, other times useless crap, so that they can have a strong beginning to marriage/motherhood.

Well, what about the people who are moving into new homes who are moving in alone? Or those who decide to adopt a child by themselves?

Do we give these people showers? No, we don't, and that is incredibly unfair.

Why do singles still get the short shrift in society when it comes to things like this? We are not worthless! We still deserve showers! Yeah, some of us are greedy bitches and bastards who want the loot, but others really need it.

Others such as the newly single divorcee, about to move into her first home by herself.

Or the freshly minted college grad, working at an entry level position, making her debut in the debutante ball known as "The Real World."

Or the woman who has never married and has decided to adopt a child of her own, with no co-parent.

Maybe I should start a business..."Single Showers by Kitten." Hmmm...

I just loathe going to bridal showers. I especially dislike shower games. Some of the shower games can be really cheesy, like shower bingo. But I like the ones that have a little twist to them. I went to one shower where we had to make bridal dresses out of rolls of toilet paper. That was a lot of fun, and quirky. And you know me, I'm all about the quirk.

But I digress.

I look back at my experience of being a bridesmaid and realize that I could have been a little more sensitive to what my friend was going through at the time. We were both in our own little worlds, I guess. She was focused on starting a new life with her husband-to-be and I was focused on launching a career and breaking free of the Cat Family homestead. I'd love to have a chat with her about what happened, but we haven't spoken in several years; we eventually drifted apart.

But I still think we should have single-person showers.

In the Singlehood: First in a series of posts

I am single and childless by choice.

Don't get me wrong, I like kids and enjoy spending time with them, but I really don't want any of my own. During my adult life I've never had a maternal instinct. I've never really pictured myself as a wife and mother. Or just a wife, for that matter.

There's a lot that influences this. My parents raised me and my sister to be independent. Mama Cat always told us, "You don't need a man to be a fulfilled person." That's the message that Grandma Cat passed on to Mama Cat when she was a kitten. A lot of it had to do with Grandma Cat's marriage to Grandpa Cat. During their later years, they didn't get along, but they never divorced. Grandpa Cat was an alcoholic. That alone should say it all.

(Then again, Mama and Papa Cat have been going strong for 36+ years as a married couple. Go fig).

Meanwhile, Papa Cat told us, "The only person you can ever depend upon is yourself." His message was influenced by the fact that we had no extended family in Connecticut. Our family tree branches into the New York/Newark metropolitan areas. We had no biological relatives around to depend on, so we created our own little network. To be honest, we're much closer to our chosen family members than our blood relatives. And we prefer it that way.

As we were growing up, Sister Kitten and I were taught, from an early age, how to cook, how to sew, and how to do laundry. When it came to automotive care, Papa Cat gave us AAA cards when we got our licenses. He also told us how to plan a budget and balance a checkbook.

We were raised with good manners and lots of discipline. Yeah, we both got spanked on occasion, but only if we did something to deserve it.

All of these tactics helped me and Sister Kitten stand on our own two feet. We both own condos, pay our bills, and hold down good jobs. Mama and Papa Cat still help out on occasion, but for the most part we do this by ourselves.

I'm proud to be independent. However, many people think it's strange that I have no interest in marrying and starting a family. It's become more common for couples to decide not to have kids, for whatever reason, but people will look twice--nay, three times or more--when a single woman decides to remain a bachelorette.

Here's my thing: relationships take work. It's like holding a job. I'm not at the point in my life where I would want to invest my time and energy in a partner.

But that's not the only thing...

I hate dating. I absolutely loathe it, despise it, detest it. Dating is like auditioning for a part in a movie over and over again and never getting it. I don't do well with small talk. I don't do well with awkwardness. There's either a spark, or there isn't. I don't like men fawning all over me. I need space.

But most importantly, this is what colors most of my feelings: In the past two years, I've known 12 friends and acquaintances who have either ended relationships or have divorced. All of these relationships have lasted for five years or less. This doesn't bode well for my generation.

I just don't see how some of my friends could have spent thousands of dollars on one day of their lives, only to have no return on the investment in five years.

I like living alone. I enjoy being able to go wherever I want, whenever I want. I actually am looking forward to being a spinster.

I have a lot more to write about this subject, but I won't do it now. In fact, I've decided to write a series of posts about it, which I will call, "In the Singlehood." For my next installment, I'm going to write about my experiences as a bridesmaid.

I'm looking forward to seeing where this series takes me.

As if Sarah Palin isn't overexposed enough already...

...you can now spend all 12 months of the year with her! That's right, 365 days with the governor of Alaska, no matter where you live!

Seriously, Kittens, Amazon.com is selling a Sarah Palin calendar. You read that right, a calendar. Read more about it here, courtesy of CNN's political ticker.

P.S. I learned recently that Alaska's celebrating the 50th anniversary of its statehood on January 3rd. More Sarah Palin news coverage then, I can almost guarantee that!

Dedicated to those who have succumbed to the evils of cold and flu season...

I am one of those who has succumbed to the evils of cold and flu season.

Thankfully, it's just been nasal congestion and post-nasal drip...mild compared to what I could really get.

I came across this old Opus comic strip tonight and thought I would share it with you. It really speaks to our national dependency on medicine, prescription and otherwise.

Ahh, Opus...you always had a way of commenting on our national travails. I miss you so.

***Special thanks to Salon.com for the archived comic.***

***UPDATE: Here's the link to the Salon.com archives. You can't really see it too well on the blog. I'm still trying to figure out the "click to enlarge" thing.***

Radio Flyer 2.0

I was on CNN.com earlier, checking up on the morning news, when I saw this.

I couldn't believe it. A wagon with safety straps, I'm okay with. But the fact that it has cup holders?!?!?! And a space for an MP3 PLAYER?!?!?!!

Aren't today's kids spoiled enough?

Bring back the classic little red wagon, PLEASE!!!!

Jon Stewart on the auto bailout

Mr. Stewart does bring up a valid point here.

By the way, in the interest of full disclosure, I must add that my family, at the same time they owned the Volare, also owned a Pinto. A two-door, bright orange, everyone in town knew it, couldn't miss it, Pinto hatchback.

We owned a Volare and a Pinto?!?!

AT THE SAME TIME?!?!?

Well, Papa Cat's first car was a Mustang convertable, so at least he at one point had some taste in cars...

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Autoerotic Explanation

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

How Now Dow!

I was very surprised that the Dow Jones industrial average didn't tank after the auto bailout bill failed to get through the Senate. In fact, the Dow finished up--not by much, but it was up.

I have said before that I am not a student of economics, but in this day and age, I really need to know about the stock market and how it impacts my life, and that of the economy.

Could anyone suggest a good place for me to go?

Of bailouts and Blagojevich

I wasn't going to blog again tonight, but after watching the House vote on the auto bailout on CNBC, I felt that I had to.

It's been a very interesting time in our country, to say the least. I had always considered myself a politically minded person, but now that I look back on it, I was only involved on the fringe--that is, until now. I'm paying more attention to the Dow than ever--and I really wasn't paying much attention to the Dow before, mind you, save for barely listening to the closing bell report on WCBS 880. And I'm watching--and getting involved--with the Sunday morning political roundtable shows. I really like Meet the Press and This Week. Fox News Sunday, however, I'm still trying to get used to (even though I kinda like Chris Wallace--but that's a family thing. I adored his father, Mike. 60 Minutes just isn't the same without him).

I started getting interested in the world of finance not only through my own financial meltdown, but our country's, starting with the Lehman Brothers and AIG fiascos in September. That's when the word "bailout" became as much of a part of our American lexicon as "9/11". The near-collapse of our financial system is just about as catastrophic as 9/11 was. Back then, it seemed like Congress was touting the $700 billion bailout as a magic cure-all that would miraculously save our economy. Now it's almost three months after its passage, and where are we? The credit markets are still frozen, and hardly anyone's lending any money. A congressional panel grilled the man chosen to supervise the bailout, a man who is ironically named Kashkari (that's pronounced "cashcarry", Kittens) today, and the panel was none too thrilled with the progress so far.

What bugs me is that neither Congress nor the media have been forthcoming as to how much worse the financial crisis could have gotten if the original bailout had not passed. Chris Dodd, the head of the Senate Banking Committee, has repeatedly said that the bailout was necessary, but he didn't give specific examples of what could have happened had Congress defeated the measure. I will admit that I was in favor of the bailout when legislation was first proposed; it was the beginning stages of the meltdown, and I was still rather naive in terms of economics and finance. Now, three months later, I'm viewing it as a band aid to our economy--a band aid that's having trouble healing the wound.

And don't even get me started on those @$$holes at AIG, the ones who are still insisting on their bonuses in spite of their company's fiscal situation, the ones who still go for spa treatments on the company dollar.

Now we're mentioning bailout again--this time, for our Big 3 automakers. I have had personal experience driving GM, Ford, and Chrysler vehicles. Mama Cat drives a Voyager. She loves it. I have driven it on very rare occasions, and it's a very nice ride, a very well-made car. Very trustworthy. This, however, is in stark contrast to the Volare station wagon that my family had growing up. The carburetor flooded constantly, and often times Mama Cat would be backing the car out of the garage when it would stall on her in the middle of the driveway. I can't tell you how many times that car broke down on us.

We got rid of the Volare in 1986 and traded it in for a nine-passenger Chevy Caprice station wagon--a car which became legendary amongst my circle of friends. We called it the "War Wagon" because you could fit so many people in it. People around town knew when my mother was coming 'round the bend. It was more reliable than the Volare, thank goodness, but it was still subject to a couple of recalls and breakdowns. It was especially prone to overheating.

Papa Cat once drove a two-door, mud brown Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, which he inherited from his father. That car broke down a lot. There are too many stories to mention about its numerous breakdowns.

My first car was a Ford Tempo. I got it near the end of my junior year of college and had it for about five or six years. It was a very trustworthy vehicle--trustworthy, that is, till I moved into my first apartment and it started falling apart on me. First it was the fuel pump, then the transmission...

My point is this: I've had bad experiences, with the exception of my mother's minivan, with American-made vehicles.

My parents still believe in supporting the American auto industry. Mama Cat still has her minivan, and Papa Cat drives a Ford truck.

Sister Kitten and I, however, are still quite leery. We want to buy American, but we both had bad experiences with American cars. (She, too, drove a Tempo, and had worse luck with hers than I did with mine). After college she bought a Mitsubishi Galant, which she wanted to keep for up to 200,000 miles, but then she got into an accident that totaled the car. She drives a Volvo now. I drive a Kia, and have never had a problem with it, knock wood.

I do not want to see the American auto industry collapse, but how do I know that they're going to improve the quality of their vehicles? How do I know that the next American car I buy is going to be reliable? We're not going to know that by March!

As you can see, I have very mixed feelings about the measure that just passed the House. It's not just the auto industry, though, that's getting to me; it's the fact that the whole rescue of our financial system is being dealt with on a piecemeal basis. First the financial sector asked Congress for money, we're giving it to them. The Big 3 asked for money, now GM and Chrysler may receive it (depending on what the Senate does tomorrow). What industry is next? The government can't just keep giving checks to businesses saying, "Here ya go!", even though the legislation has a lot of stipulations attached (which, with this auto bailout bill, at least I'm glad that the bill included an oversight board). This is the kind of thing that should have been done for Detroit years ago.

All of this is just to tide things over till the Obama administration takes over in a month and ten days.

Speaking of the Obama administration...

How 'bout that Rod Blagojevich?

We here in Connecticut are certainly no strangers to corrupt politics, but Rod Blagojevich did far worse than John Rowland ever did (and John Rowland did some very, very bad things, to say it mildly). At first glance, the fact that he used the F-word in professional business dealings makes him look unprofessional. But when you examine the contexts of his conversations, it's just downright deplorable. FranIAm has an excellent post with some great links about the Blagojevich transcripts; click here if you want further information.

What really frosts me about the whole thing is that Blagojevich has no plans to resign!!! He's still at work, with a great big smile on his face! At least John Rowland had the decency to resign; by not leaving his post under the circumstances that he faces, Rod Blagojevich has proven that he has no shred of decency.

So what does this all mean for Barack Obama and his transition team? They're still investigating, but once this scandal broke, I knew that the Republicans would be all over this one. They certainly are! How long do you think it'll be before they add the word "gate" onto the end of this one?

So I will be watching the news even more obsessively than I do now as the week ends. This has become like crack to me; I know I shouldn't watch as much as I do, but I really need to be informed.

I can't be ignorant in this day and age. No one can. We were all too ignorant of our country's financial and political situations for too long.

And look where ignorance got us.

It certainly didn't give us bliss.

It Goes Like It Goes...

There's one track on Patti LuPone's new CD that just seems appropriate for these times. I've posted the lyrics below.

The chorus gets to me the most.

"It Goes Like It Goes" (theme from Norma Rae)

Ain't no miracle being born
People doin' it everyday
It ain't no miracle growing up, ah
People just grow that way

So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time it rolls right on
And maybe what's good gets a little bit better
And maybe what's bad gets gone

Ah, bless the child of a working man
She knows too soon who she is
And bless the hands of a working man
Oh, he knows his soul is his

So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time it rolls right on
And maybe what's good gets a little bit better
And maybe what's bad gets gone

So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time keeps rolling right on, oh
And maybe what's good gets a little bit better
And maybe what's bad gets gone

The Call of the Chia

I went to bed early last night...well, 10:30 is early for me. I put the TV on sleep mode and turned on the news. I know it's not exactly healthy to watch the news as you're falling asleep, so I made a compromise: I put on The Daily Show. (And what woman wouldn't want to dream about Jon Stewart, hmm?)

Anyhoo, as I was drifting off, I heard it...that familiar call, as I have heard over many a holiday season...

"Ch-ch-ch-CHIA!"

Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhh, nooooooooooooooooooooo...

Would my dreams be turned to nightmares? Fortunately, no, although I was thinking about Chias a lot more this morning than I did the day before.

What exactly is it about Chia Pets that are so fascinating? I have never known anyone to buy one personally for themselves, yet they must sell awfully well, for they come back, year after year after year. And you can't find chia refill seeds in stores!

Plus, the novelty wears off tres rapidement. Well, I really shouldn't say that, for if the novelty wore off so fast, how would Chia Pets have secured a permanent place in American pop culture?

Sister Kitten, when she was in middle school, begged for a Chia Pet for Christmas. I mean, begged for it. She got one--a little Chia turtle, which she christened Emerson. She took great care of Emerson--watered him every day, talked to him, encouraged him to grow--and he did indeed grow a downy little shell. He didn't grow to the puffiness that you see in the Chia Pet commercials, but he did grow a nice little coat.

Eventually, Emerson's coat died, and he became a little terra cotta turtle once again. Sister Kitten kept Emerson for a few years; I think he's still in her old bedroom at our parents' house. The memory of Emerson, however, has turned into an "Omigod, I can't believe I actually wanted a Chia Pet for Christmas" sort of memory, almost like an embarrassment.

So today, as I drove to work, I got the fanciful idea that, in order to cheer myself up this Christmas, maybe I should get a Chia pet of my own, and document its growth on the blog. Only I would write the blogs from the Chia's point of view: "Hola! Yo soy Lucia la Chia! That's Loo-CEE-uh!"

I then decided against it, for several reasons.

One, I wasn't about to go out of my way to find a Chia Pet. I was at Big Lots and Ocean State Job Lot this evening, doing some Christmas shopping, and not a single Chia was to be found.

Secondly, what would I do with the Chia afterwards? Yeah, it would make a conversation piece, but I could just imagine having people over going, "I can't believe you actually owned a Chia Pet. In your adult life!"

So came an end to a blog series that will only exist in my imagination: Las Aventuras de Lucia la Chia.

I kinda regret it, if only because the title sounds so snappy.

Election History: President Barack Obama

Various projections from CNN's coverage last night. At 2:47, you'll see the moment that had me screaming.

Epilogue to an Election

Eight years ago, I vowed to stay up all night, watching the election returns, determined, for once in my life, to witness the networks declare a president-elect. I had just finished my student teaching, and didn't have to go into work the day after Election Day, so I decided to stay up for as long as I could.

Well, we all remember what happened.

I woke up the next morning, asked Mama Cat who the next president was, and she told me there wasn't any. I turned on CNN and heard the story, again and again, about the whole fiasco that was unfolding in Florida. Sister Kitten, a college senior at the time, called from Ithaca and asked what the hell was going on.

In 2004, I just wasn't motivated to stay up. I cannot remember the last time I felt so indifferent towards an election, a fact that I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit now. I felt the way many Americans did: I voted for John Kerry, if only to get W. out of office.

This year, however, I was very excited about Obama. Here was this young, charismatic individual, a fast-rising star on the political scene, who had this gift of rallying people around him. I liked his articulation, I liked the way he spoke, I liked the way he related to people, especially the youth. I really liked the way he got young people, the next generation, excited about the political process.

Now I am no political analyst. There are so many "what ifs" still out there. What if things were really going well for the Republican party right now? What if there was a huge October surprise on the eve of Election Day? Several months ago, the election was too close to call. Both McCain and Obama were in a dead heat in many states, and I kept thinking, as I read whatever I could about the election, "Another 2000. Another 2000."

I had those anxious fears that something--anything--would go wrong last night. I was expecting to go to sleep once the Starbucks wore off (thanks for the two free cups of coffee I received at two different stores). I watched the returns nonstop on CNN all night long, with my calculator, figuring out possible Electoral College scenarios. (By the way, how the hell did I miss the holograms?)

In short, with all signs pointing towards Obama, I was expecting McCain to pull an upset.

And then 11:00 PM rolled around.

Wolf Blitzer had a countdown graphic on the Magic Map. Countdown before the polls closed on the west coast. Five, four, three, two...

CNN Projection...

And then...

BARACK OBAMA ELECTED PRESIDENT

I started to scream. I kept saying "Ohmigod" for almost half an hour. I was literally breathless.

I went online immediately and started looking for blogs. I was amazed that none of the news websites, particularly CNN and the New York Times, crashed due to the onslaught of traffic. I called my minister in a frenzy; we were both outspoken Obama supporters.

The adrenaline kept me up till 1 AM. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Not just the fact that I was witness to a new president being elected, but the fact that we elected an African-American as president.

This fact wasn't lost on Roland Martin, who was very emotional over Obama's win. He mentioned that next year, the NAACP will celebrate its centennial. It was founded in 1909 as the result of a racial riot that took place in Springfield, Illinois.

Springfield, Illinois.

The same city where Barack Obama announced his candidacy.

I was blogging last night when I overheard McCain on the TV. I ran back into the living room. Now, I don't agree on much of McCain's politics, but after his concession speech, I have increased respect for the man. He delivered a classy, dignified, gracious concession, and you could tell that he sincerely wished his opponent well. Yes, he was disappointed, but he wasn't bitter about his loss.

And Obama, too, extended an olive branch to McCain after a long, often bitter, campaign.

I will never forget the acceptance speech in Grant Park. Obama was serious, dignified, overwhelmed at times, that he won. He recognized that there was a long road ahead. He knew that there were a lot of problems ahead. And he was humble enough to say, "I need your help."

Yes, we could.

Yes, we did.

This morning, I had more time to reflect. What if McCain had won? Would there have been some racial rioting in the streets in various cities? How would the world have reacted? There was nothing short of adoration and jubiliation all around the world.

I'm overwhelmed, physically and emotionally, but psyched that I have lived through this momentous time in American history. I got home early enough to take a nap, and I did, for three hours.

And now, an early bedtime.

Now the withdrawl period begins.

THANK YOU, AMERICA!!!!!!!!!

No sooner had CNN posted the final seconds of the countdown to the closing of the West Coast polls when they had declared Barack Obama the President-Elect.

I started screaming, hyperventilating, and crying.

Two of the CNN anchors, Roland Martin and Tara Wall, were on the verge of tears.

I just finished watching Senator McCain's concession speech.

All I can say is, "Wow."

We did it.

Thanks, America.

More tomorrow. And thanks again.

THANK YOU, CONNECTICUT!!!!

With only 34% of precincts reporting, Connecticut voters have decided, 60% to 40%, to vote no on question one, that is, whether or not the state should have a constitutional convention. This is great news!

And my congresswoman, Rosa DeLauro, was re-elected! Yay Rosa!

And Connecticut voters have voted to let 17-year-olds vote as well.

Most importantly, WE'RE A BLUE STATE! Granted, we have only a handful of electoral votes, but it still makes me feel pretty damn good!

So that's the update on the homefront. Now back to surfing the net and the TV for the latest scoop.

Freakout Mode, Election Edition

I was keeping my cool all day about the returns...until now.

It is official--we here at The Bookkitten (that is, Maggie, Gabby, and I) are in total, uncontrolled, full-fledged, unequivocal, freakout mode.

And you know how I get in Freakout Mode.

Just found out Obama's projected to win Ohio. Okay, that's now 194 electoral votes. So let's do the math here, Kittens...

...Obama wins Florida, that's another 27...which puts us at 221...then he wins California, and that's another 55, so that makes 276...

Yep, it's a squeaker, but there's HOPE!!!!

I'm gonna be up awhile. I got my free Starbucks coffee after work, then picked up another free coffee at the Starbucks on my way to choir practice. Starbucks is the only coffee that keeps me awake.

But tonight, adrenaline is doing a damn good job, too.

I'll be back later. Sam Adams is paying a visit. Having a beer just seems really appropriate right now.

Ms. Kitten Rocks the Vote!

On my 18th birthday, I walked into the town hall in Granby, Connecticut and met with the registrar of voters. After filling out some paperwork, showing some identification, and taking an oath, I became a registered Democrat.

My party affiliation hasn't changed since.

My interest in politics seriously began when I was a junior in high school, when Bill Clinton was running for the first time. I found a Clinton/Gore bumper sticker and, since I didn't have a car at the time, stuck it on my AP US History notebook. I felt it was appropriate to stick it there.

Election Night, my friend Jon and I had maps of the US, and we colored the states in red and blue as the returns came in, and we were both so excited to show each other our maps, in Clinton's favor, at school the next day.

If I could have voted in that election, I would have.

My first official election was in 1994, when Bill Curry and John Rowland ran for governor. I was in college at the time, and my parents weren't willing to pick me up and drive me home just to vote, so they made me contact Town Hall so I could obtain an absentee ballot. I voted for Bill Curry, partially because he was an alumni of my high school. (I only recently learned that Joe Courtney, another Connecticut politician, is also an alumni of my high school). Anyhoo, John Rowland won that election.

And if you follow Connecticut politics closely, y'all know what happened to him.

My first official presidential election was in 1996, and again, I had to vote by absentee ballot. Reason? I was studying abroad at the time. I was so excited when my absentee ballot arrived in the mail, I mailed it back the same day. That was the Clinton/Dole election, and of course, I cast my ballot for our incumbent president at the time.

The first election I could actually be present for was back in 1998. I had just graduated from college, and really felt weird actually being present on Election Day to vote. It was another gubernatorial contest, this time, between Barbara Kennelly and John Rowland.

It was the only time I voted Republican. I voted for John Rowland.

Mama Cat, a lifelong, self-described, tree-hugging liberal, was soooooooooo mad.

My first presidential election was in 2000. I voted for Al Gore.

And y'all know what happened then.

And tomorrow morning, I'm off to the polls once again. I always vote on my way into work; that way, I can avoid the post-work crowds around 5 PM. I vote at an elementary school with a really smart PTA. Why is the PTA so smart? They use Election Day as a bake sale fundraiser! So I can go vote tomorrow morning, and then get breakfast!

(Granted, it'll be of the sugary, buttery variety, but it's Election Day Breakfast!)

So tell me, Kittens, what was your first time voting like? Let's discuss!

Election Night Party Plans

Good evening, Kittens!

I can't believe that Election Day is here in just a matter of hours. I know that our nation has a long, dragged-out election process, but this one has felt waaaaaaaayyyyyy longer than usual. I am so anxious for tomorrow night! It is definitely going to be one verrrrrrrry long day.

So what are your plans for watching the returns tomorrow night? I'm not sure what mine are going to be. I have choir practice till 8:30, then I'm running home and I'm sitting on the couch and getting whatever alcohol I have in the house. Depending on how things are going, I may either have beer or wine. No champagne, though. I'm saving that for if Barack Obama wins.

And in spite of what the polls say, two people I spoke with today say that people would never admit in a poll that race plays a factor in their election decision. This makes me twice as nervous.

All I really care about, is waking up Wednesday morning, and knowing for sure that we have elected a president. I don't want any drag-ons like we've had for the last two elections.

But let me forewarn you, Kittens: Wednesday I'm either going to be in a really, really good mood, or a really, really bad mood.

Do you think Canada can handle the onslaught of all the Americans who could potentially cross its borders?

My Favorite Time of Year

I get really psyched when the calendar hits October 31st, because that begins the period for my favorite time of year.

Yep, Kittens, I am a sucker for the holiday season.

I'm not so much into the shop, shop, shopping or the overcommercialism of the whole shindig. I cringe whenever I see Christmas decorations up in Target at the beginning of October. But I really, really love this time of year because I get to spend time with the people I care about most: my friends and family. I know that sounds tres corny, but that is why I love it so.

I especially love December. I love Christmas carols, decorations, hot cider, fluffy snowflakes, and all of the joy and spirit that goes along with the holiday season. There's just such a tangible love in the air, and it really makes me feel alive.

I can say this now, because last year, I didn't feel alive at all. In fact, I felt like I only existed.

Last year, at this time, my life hit rock bottom. I won't divulge too many details publicly, but I will say that I entered the deepest depression I ever had. It was a challenge for me to even get out of bed sometimes. I really hated myself, and just felt awful, awful, awful.

You see, Kittens, I was addicted to the two most available substances we have: food and money. I spent too much, I ate too much, and at this time last year, it all came to a head, and I had to seek help. I started by contacting my minister, who then got me in touch with two twelve-step programs: Debtors Anonymous and Overeaters Anonymous, and I started to attend meetings. Two months later, I found, through a friend, a wonderful therapist whom I see to this day. I started to get help, and work on my problems from the inside out.

I have battled anxiety and depression for almost my entire life. Previously I was on antidepressants, and those really helped for a while, but they didn't address the core problems that were making me depressed and anxious. I also didn't like the physical side effects they had on my body. I slowly, slowly weaned myself off them, and physically, I feel a lot better. These drugs were partically to blame for my weight gain, and I lost 20 pounds just by going off of them.

NOW, I recognize that there are those who need to use antidepressants for the long-term, and I respect that as a part of their treatment. Antidepressants, however, did not really benefit my OWN case in the long run. Please do not take my situation as a substitute for medical advice, PLEASE! I am not a doctor!

Addressing my problems head on has helped me a lot. Slowly, I started coming out of my fog. It didn't happen overnight, not at all. I had many, many setbacks. I shed a lot of tears, and used a lot of Kleenex. It's not easy for me to write this right now, even though I'm writing under a pseudonym and most of you don't know my real identity (except for the handful of friends who know of this blog's existance). I've seen many of you blog articulately, thoughtfully, and openly, and I admire you all for that. It's really hard for me to be unguarded, except with my family and my closest friends. (My best friend, who gets frequent press time here, is especially good at getting me to let my guard down).

The tagline on this blog, as you have seen, is "Reflections on life's journey and the peaks, valleys, and amusements along the way." I have learned to seek the joy out of life's simplest things, whether it be a walk along the Brooklyn Bridge or picking apples on a crisp autumn day. I've blogged a lot about the diversions and peaks, but not too much on the valleys. I really don't want to dwell on the valleys, but rather, would acknowledge their existance, for they are a part of life.

But I don't want to concentrate on the valleys now. Right now is a peak time--and hopefully, if Barack Obama gets elected, will stay that way. I want to focus on the holidays, and rather, the joys, scents, sounds, and togetherness of the season. I especially want to focus on my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, where you don't have to worry about buying anyone anything and you can eat to your heart's content and not feel guilty. Oh yeah, and spend a lot of time with the ones you love.

I'm aware that there are those who can't spend the holidays with their loved ones.

But I am lucky that I can.