October 13, 2004

• DEMOCRATIC DREAMS. A while ago, before the presidential race got so gosh-darned exciting, say, back before the Democratic National Convention when John Kerry’s official name was still “Not Bush,” I had this dream, and I tell you now this is a real dream I had. I even told my mom about it. It went like this: We (dh and I) are at a political rally where Mr. Kerry is speaking and afterward, while the crowd is cheering and yelling, he looks above the crowd and makes eye contact with me, leans over whispering to his security guard and points me out, rock-star-style, and dh and I immediately understand that I have been chosen as his new “mistress.” I’m the new future White House affair! Well, I am sort of flummoxed by the whole prospect (don’t actually meet him or anything) but am more analytical than anything about his choice of ME, since, not to knock my own inherent hotness or anything, but if I were a presidential candidate seeking extramarital nooky I might just go for less vocabulary and more, uh, stuff. Dh apologizes and agrees. We decide that it was a political move, not a hormonal one, and by picking me, and figuring that our affair will be made public, he will appear to have an open mind in his taste in women, see the “whole woman” and make big fans out of the comfy-dressing/recycling/Volvo-driving/liberal/indie-cinema-mom-voters. I’m the Anti-Monica.

  When I wake from this dream and tell dh he tells me that if it comes to pass I can go ahead and “represent” if need be. Thanks, but Mr. K is a little on the equine side for me. He can still have my vote, though.

  I have never dreamed of George W. Bush. I have nothing to say on that matter. (Like hell I don’t.)

  ANNOYING THING. When a café has an evening open to musicians to come and sing a song, or poets to come and read a piece did you know that they take a person named Michael and open him up? Apparently this is the new trend, as newspapers and magazines are now referring to these events as “open mikes.” It wasn’t that long ago that they were called, correctly, “open mics,” since they are, in fact open microphones, and the first three letters of microphone is…MIC. Maybe there is a dearth of musical equipment across the land and persons named Michael do, in fact, amplify sound better than, say persons named Henry and that’s why we don’t have “open Hanks.” I find this completely annoying and can’t for the life of me figure out why every editor, spell-checker (human) and member of the paid grammar police has let this slip. It’s really awful. Open mike. Open mic. Think about it.

  Kim

  • 10:20 pm
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