Where to Start?

Gosh, you get buried under some freelance projects (sorry gentle readers, the paying gigs come first) and the world goes to shit all around you.

As one of my fave gossip blogs so aptly reminded me the other day, when you don't know where to start, start at the very beginning, per the wisdom of Ms. Julie Andrews. You can't go wrong with Mary Poppins guiding you.

So the debate. The spouse and I were all excited about Friday night's debate. With the onslaught of cooler weather in our neck of the woods, we were dreaming of crackling fires and bowls of oyster stew to sustain us through the two hours of bullshit. Alas, the fire was not to be, but the bullshit was in abundance.

McCain seemed a bit twitchy to start, but evened out some as things went on. His shout out to Ted Kennedy came off to me as one of the lowest forms of pandering. And while I know the audience was supposed to keep their traps shut, the deafening silence that accompanied several of McCain's efforts to joke seemed telling to this little liberal lover. 

Now for my guy—I was displeased that Obama's efforts to get a word in often came off as sounding hesitant or unsure (or at least that was how my Fox News ear translators heard it). But I do think that there were some murmurs of approval/laughter for his efforts at humor.

Overall, I wasn't blown away by either one of the men Friday night, but of course I agreed with more to most of what Obama was saying. But admittedly McCain would have to start performing a lobotomy on himself on live TV for me to even begin to imagine agreeing with him on much.

And then gentle readers, sometime around 10.20 I started to nod off. I apologize, but that is just too late an hour for this delicate southern belle to be exposed to. Nothing good happens after 9pm anyway, I always say.