awesome ultimate expert hen (mdyesowitch) wrote,
awesome ultimate expert hen
mdyesowitch

I'm sorry, but I have to rant now


I had the most obnoxious conversation with my husband on the way to vote.
Marsha adds that mixed marriage couples should not vote together. I begin to see the wisdom of her ways.
We're discussing the WBZ and Channel 56 News Analysist Jon Keller's radio broadcast pointing out how happy voters are that today is the end game for this blitzkreig of misinformation and outright slanderous set of campaigns run on both sides. We eventually slip off into other topics surrounding the election assisted by the radio which has a variety of campaign stories.
The story of how Boston Copley hotel overlooking Copley square is going to be used by the Kerry campaign for the election night bash (and how excited they are by the revenue generation) prompts hoppie to say, "Of course they can't actually rent out any hotel rooms, because Kerry won't allow it."
This refers to a story told to us through a friend about a woman who couldn't get an additional night at a hotel room she was staying at because Kerry was moving in and he'd asked them to refuse to rent any rooms not already taken.
Me: Well, I'm sure there was something else going on there.
Him: That's what I hate about you democats...
Me: (interrupting) Look, I know what you're going to say, and I do not ascribe nothing but evil motives to Bush while reserving all good opinions for Kerry!
Him: (irritated) That's not what I was going to say at all. The democrats are always trying to make Kerry the hero, while everything Bush does is evil.
Me: (furious) The hell! That's exactly what I just said you were going to say, and you said, "Oh, no, I wasn't gonna say that."
Him: I suppose now would be a bad time to say that you wouldn't be so upset if it weren't true.
Me: You just called me a hypocrite! Twice! In the same conversation! And now you're going to tell me I shouldn't be angry. You have got to be kidding me? I am not the knee-jerk reactionary who will tell you that a potted plant would make a better president than Bush. I have formed opinions based on rational thought. I believe that Bush has done some good things in the early days of his presidency to help unite the country.
Him: But you democrats always have to ascribe motives to things. You can't just let a person be. Everything he does has to represent something.
Me: Everthing a person does has motivations. I do not think that all Bush's motivations are evil and all Kerry motivations are pure. And I really resent your saying that I do.
Him: Well, you're not as bad as some other democats.
Me: Thank you?
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrr
So freaking furious.
Having your husband treat you like a stereotype is really, really infuriating.

I dropped my engagement ring off to be repaired. Unfortunately, that was the only thing holding my wedding ring on. I thought about buying a chain, but cheap chains just turn colors or would break under the weight, and expensive chains hardly seemed worth the effort for the two days it will take to get my ring back.
I consulted with hoppie (before the howling hypocrite thing) and he said he felt like I could go without a wedding ring for two days, he'd just keep me away from rocker (heh heh heh).

Disclaimer: The text below is unedited. Part of NaNoWriMo is just getting it down on paper. It's also an unfinished scene.

She opened the door to let him and then rushed past him. "Already late! Gotta go. Have fun."
"Lynds, wait!" Doug grabbed her arm, "What's going on?"
"I have a date! And I'm already late. Just lock up when you're done." She pulled her arm from his loose grip.
"I'll bring the key by..." the door slammed shut and latched behind her, "tonight." he said to the empty air. He laughed ruefully. He couldn't really complain. He was greatful his old school mate was willing to let him borrow her gym. The last gym he'd gone too had been a disaster. He'd barely gotten to a machine before they'd desended like the locusts they were. He'd half decided to leave home and return to Cincinnati where he could recover his strength at the club facility, when Lindsey had offered the gym. He walked over to a set of machines and sat down to start working his legs. He ignored his surroundings, focusing on the reactions of his body and not on the horrible cotton candy pink walls and oddly shaped lighting fixtures. When Lindsey told him she wanted to open a women's only gym, Mouse had laughed, now it seemed like the only safe place left in the world. A noise burst him out of his reverie. He jumped to his feet, knees buckling only slightly in reaction to his injury. He moved quietly through the darkened room. The noise was coming from the direction of the locker room. "Only one locker room," Lindsay had told him, "And you can't use it. Even after hours. A girl's got to have some standards." But someone was obviously using it now. He stood next to door waiting for it to open. She came through singing. He reacted before he it even registered that she was no thief.
He spoke first. "You scared me."
"I scared you?" she said winded, "I was just finishing up my shower and you manhandle me! This is woman's gym! What are you doing here?"
"Lindey didn't tell me there was anyone left." he said quietly.
"She said she had to leave, and that I could just see myself out. " She stood up and whipped her hair behind her.
"Of course you can." he said tryig to be soothing. "I'm Mouse. Lynds and I grew up together. She lets me come here at night, after closing time."
"Mouse?" she said incredulously, looking at the man in front of her, who had to be at least 6 foot 2 with broad shoulders and a tapered athelete's body.
He grinned as he followed the direction of her eyes. "It's short for Moskowitz. Doug." Belatedly he thought to offer her his hand. She looked at it, rolled her eyes and turned to go. "Wait." he said. "Can't I take you to dinner or something? I mean it's the last I can do."
"That's very sweet." she said, turning slightly to look at him, "But completely unnecessary." She turned away again and started wolking to the door.
He limped slightly as he followed her."Really, I must insist. I shouldn't have scared you like that. I just wasn't expected anyoe to be here. Please, let me make it up to you...I don't even know your name."
She laughed, it was a musical sound that rippled down his back. "Tingles." he thought. "Neat." He looked at her, studying her for the first time. She was attractive in a modest way, not flashly, like the women he was used to, more like Lindsey.
"My name is Tess." She said. "How long did you say you'd known Lindsey?"
"We grew up together. You hungry now or can I...?" he gestured to the weights.
She smiled. "Typical mouse." She said with a laugh, "Invite me out, then leave me hanging."
"Not every woman." she said, following him as he walked over to a set of machines. "You're limping."
"I'm recovering." he said, sitting down on a bench. He strapped on a set of weights and began lifting.
"From what?" she asked curiously.
"Is your name really Tessie?" he asked her.
"Tess." she said, "Teresa, to my parents. Miss Ducan to my students."
"You're a teacher? What do you teach, Miss Duncan?"
Tags: creative writing, hoppie, politics, rant, shopping
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