I walk around saying to myself, “Barack Obama, Barack Obama.” I wake up in the middle of the night, and think, “President-Elect Barack Obama.”
The Scout, who routinely invokes the world of alternative lyrics, likes to sing ‘Barack Obama’ to the tune of ‘Rockin’ Robin.’ As in…
Barack Obama (Tweet, Tweet, Tweet)
Barack Obama (Tweet, tweedle-lee-dee)
Go Barack Obama ’cause we’re really gonna rock tonight…
“He out-bopped the buzzard and the oriole“—Oh yes he did.
Readers of this blog will know that I am relieved/overjoyed that Sarah Palin will not be inside the beltway anytime soon. Call me Frau Palinfreude (via Andrew Sullivan).
In the meantime, we’ve got change to look forward to—and it begins with us.
My mother is still manic. I’m in Oregon, up close and personal with the mania. Here’s a quiz you can take in case you’re feeling a little wired yourself. My mother is so manic she could never make it through the quiz (written or oral). She’s “disorganized” as they say. She thinks she’s cleaning out her apartment, but she’s creating chaos. She also wants to shop like crazy…