I Hope My Vagina Doesn't Get a Vote

Am I the only one that feels like this election is about putting people in boxes? Most elections generally are. Pundits try to predict our votes because of our demographics. But I think this year is worse than most.

With a black presidential candidate and a woman vice presidential candidate, it seems like we've been duped. At least I feel duped. If a black man votes for Barack Obama, it's not because he shares his values, likes his arguments or sees his reasoning. It's because a black man is voting for a black man. Don't think this is true? Then look back a week to Colin Powell's announcement of his voting preference. Never has that man been more black than when he said he had been swayed to vote for Barack Obama.

I feel like Republicans are no better for choosing a female vice presidential candidate. After months of going after Obama for his lack of experience, McCain chooses a Governor with only 20 months experience in the office. Before that she was a mayor in a town of 6,000. But choosing Palin is supposed to be great because she's not inexperienced--she's a Washington outsider. However, charging your family's travel expenses to the state when they were not invited to attend seems like something a lot of Washington insiders would do. I'm not knocking her for taking her family with her. I'm all for it. But I also don't want my tax dollars going to pay for Bristol to stay in Westin for four days.

So when I get in the voting booth, I'm really hoping that my vote will come from my head. Not my skin color or my gender. I hope that some profound effect doesn't happen where my vagina suddenly grabs hold of my hand and makes me vote for a woman because she's a woman. I just want to vote for who I think is the best candidate and the pundits, parties and world can continue to try and predict it. At least it gives them something to do.

I'm A Cat Person. . .Who knew?

Less than a month ago, Chef and I adopted a kitten. "Adopted" being a euphemism for shelled out hard earned money to buy the love and affection of a new family member. Chef found a particularl type of cat breed online that he soon became convinced would be the answer to our dilema. Our dilema? We're both dog people.

Neither Chef nor I had owned a cat before. We both had dogs and loved the qualities that make dogs so special: loyalty, happiness to see you, the ability to be trained. But Chef wanted a Samoyed (big dog) and I wanted a Yorkie (small dog). So we compromised on finding a large cat.

So Chef searched and found the Pixie Bob. What Chef was also looking for was to fulfill a need for having a "battle cat." Not anything Michael Vick-like, but Chef wanted an imposing cat. So, after months of leaving cute Pixie Bob kitten pictures on the computer and convincing, I got just as excited as he did.

We went to the nearest Pixie Bob breeder we could find, which was two hours away and the only Pixie Bob breeder in the state. We picked out our small, 3 lb. 3 month old little guy and took him home. He only meowed right before we got home and it was because he had to poo.

Anyway, we are now whole-heartedly in love with our kitten. His name is Genghis (keeping with the battle cat theme) and he follows us from room to room. Chef is toilet-training him, so soon there won't be any litter to deal with either. I know I'm biased, but he's just about the cutest cat-dawg ever.