Sam Rides Again

As I suspected would happen, Obama won the race. I shall therefore spend the next four years burying myself in the following distractions:

1.) Finishing college and hopefully graduating magna (or summa...whichever one is the highest. I never can remember. I'm pathetic, I know. I can't even remember what weather watch and weather warning mean...I get them confused. Sigh.)

2.) Graduate school (Where to go?)

3.) The multitude of weddings that are going to be happening. I'm going to be maid-of-honor in two of them, and bridesmaid in a few more, so I'm gonna need to eat my Wheaties.

4.) The trip to England and Ireland Mom and I are planning. I'm so excited I just about can't stand myself. AHHHH! *dances a jig*

Anyway, that's the way of the world. I accept it. There's a reason for everything, even this. I can face the following years with dignity and trust...that is, until some lamebrain tries to rub my nose in the election like I'm some disobedient puppy.

Anyway, Sam (of six-times-the-charm-in-jail fame) starting putting Obama's name to hymns this morning, as well as requesting a moment of silence in honor of the big O, and being generally annoying and obnoxious. I bore it in comparative silence, but I had to put my head down on the table when he said loudly, "Obama's president! Now he can pay my child support!"

Oh, yeah. This guy's a model parent, all right. Not to mention a doofus. I need a thesaurus to describe how much of a blockhead this blockhead is. A SOCIALIST blockhead, too. That's a very dangerous combination.

What has been amusing about all this mess is that my mom has suddenly found a number of websites that sell private islands. Seriously. She's leaning toward the Canadian area, obviously. After all, it's not the tropics, which means no snake, sharks, or Joran van de Sloots to worry about. She was seriously cracking me up--I think she was honestly considering it! 

When I pointed out that it would be a little difficult for me to go to graduate school on an island, she started spouting off stuff about satellites. I looked at the descriptions of the islands, and I said, "Whales, Mom? Do you want to be Moby Dick now?" She said, "Whales are beautiful!" I replied, "Yeah, and we can always get oil." Never mind the fact that my favorite childhood song was "Baby Beluga" and if I were to see a dead whale, I'd probably cry like a three year old who can't understand why she isn't allowed to go on the jungle gym. 

My mom's crazy, but I love her.

Oh, and I just thought I would add that I find it highly amusing that my spellcheck on here doesn't recognize "Obama." Hee, hee.