Okay, folks, I’m diving off the internet and into the cold waters of moving all our crap. When I come back up for air, I will be sleeping in my bed under a different roof.
Have I mentioned how it gives me the shivers to think that I’ll be able to ‘sit out’ on my own land in the deep dark of my own back yard?
Shoot.
Wow.
Sometimes, from the outside, it’s hard to understand if you’re misunderstanding what’s going on in the Republican party, and I have been in the middle of my own panic, so I may have missed this. But doesn’t it seem like we’re witnessing something very, very important just below the surface?
I start by saying two things that I have observed about Southerners–one, a lot of them are Southern Baptist, which means, when they don’t like how something’s going, they have no compunction about breaking off and doing something different while still considering themselves to be the true carriers of the proper torch and two, they don’t like to be played for fools.
So, whenever it was that I had CNN, I noticed that it seemed to be primarily the Southern Republicans who were on my screen hollering about the bailout and how they were insulted by it (props to Bob Corker, btw). And now McCain seems to think nothing of suggesting cancelling the first debate, which, of course, is in Mississippi.
From McCain’s end, I can see it. The benefits to him outweight the costs, because just like Democrats have grown complacent with the Black vote, the Republicans have come to expect that they will always have the white Southern vote (see, for instance, Bill Hobbs’s gleeful plans for Republican victory in Tennessee for election day). So, McCain can show his ass to Mississippi and cancel a debate they were expecting to host because what are they going to do about it? Right?
But I feel like I saw an inkling on CNN of what Southern Republicans are going to do about it and I’m just curious if I’m reading the landscape right. I think Southern Republicans are positioning themselves as the “true” Republicans, who stand in opposition both to the Democrats and to national Republicans who are out of touch with “regular” folks.
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And because you know I can’t let this Palin stuff go, I also wonder how she’s playing with the majority of Southern Republican women, the longer she’s out there in public. Because I have observed that Southern women in general have been taught to play dumb very well, but that they have litte patience for actual dumb women. I think Palin looked very attractive to Southern women when it seemed as if she was just playing dumb in that way Southern women do, but the more it seems as if she may actually be out of her league? I’m just saying, at some point, the conventional wisdom among white Southern women is going to go from “Oh, Sarah Palin’s kind of like us but Alaskan” to “Oh, Sarah Palin, bless her heart.”
And I think we all know the Republican ticket is in trouble when it attracts a significant Bless Your Heart quotient.
So, I think that we have the whole moving thing covered, especially if Kathy T. and the Professor show up on Friday. The Butcher has actually gotten some folks together, large able-bodied folks who are not having some kind of emotional and physical breakdown.
The second cable guy was much more competent than the first and got us all hooked up at the house. He was surprised that the first guy couldn’t do it, and frustrated that they’d scheduled us so late in the day, but very nice about my dad standing around near him cracking jokes.
The house is ready to go, I think. It looks terrific and I really cannot wait to be sitting in it. I think we’re in good shape on the large things we need (Thanks, Dad!), except for my dream of awesome bookshelves. But we’re going to have to make a run to Target for little plastic bins to put things in once we know what kinds of things we have to put in bins we might get.
The maids are coming to the apartment on Monday. I am tempted to hire them to come to the house all the time, too, but I’ll have to see if we can squeeze it in our budget. But damn, it would be worth it.
We have so much crap and it’s just crap. I feel like I’m filling a garbage bag for every box I pack. Still, you know what? It’s worth it to not haul it over to the house.
So, yeah, here’s another boring post about the move that will not die. It’s like a bad horror movie, in that it’s horrible to me but not to everyone else. Even my dad last night at dinner was like “Why are you being such a dork about this?” And my dad is a world-class fretter. He won the gold in the fretting Olympics in ’68, ’72, and ’08 and medaled in every other year.
So, when he says I’m fretting too much, I’m fretting too much. And yet I cannot stop.
The Butcher was dogsitting this weekend and so he taught the dog to sit on his shoulder and ride around. This is so cute I about can’t stand it.
Tiny Cat Pants 