Paul Ryan, Miss America and a Good, Good Sleep
OK, so something happened this past week that hasn’t happened in a long, long time. As I think on it, the last time it happened really well was since before Coulter was born and you can’t really do it while you’re pregnant so all told it’s been about 8 years.
I slept. Hard.
I had been traveling alone for a couple of days and normally a strange bed without little hands slapped across my body and toes intermingled and puppy fur keeping me warm; well, normally that would ensure a restless night but for some reason, I slept.
I slept so hard and so deep that I woke up totally disoriented with no clue or remembrance of where I was or why I was there and with a momentary panic of where are the children kind of feeling. And then I remembered my dream.
I don’t dream very often, or at least I don’t remember my dreams. Scientists tell us that we dream every night and I suppose they know more than I, but whatever. I had a dream and as soon as I realized where I was, I was so happy to be awake and to realize, it had all been a bad dream.
I was interviewing for Miss America. Kristi Yamaguchi was one of the judges. She says to me, “Myra Katherine, we know about your family and their political involvement over the years and what we want to know is what do you think of Paul Ryan’s financial plan.”
I go blank. And to be honest, this part probably isn’t just the dream. Not only have I not slept in 8 years (among other things,) I haven’t read a newspaper in 8 years. And in terms of watching the news, well, not so much. It’s depressing. People are mean and hateful and they speak of Jesus but they don’t act like Jesus and they shoot each other and they abuse each other and so I don’t watch the news. If they had asked me about the season finale of Grey’s and my opinion on what’s going to happen now that Lexi is dead and her lover is heartbroken, well then I would’ve had an answer.
But Paul, Ryan? I think quickly. Does he have a financial plan? What if this is trick question (kind of the like price of peaches) and then I think to myself why do I always think people are trying to trick me.
Hmmm…..yes, why would I think that. (That, my readers, was sarcasm).
Anyway, I am good at interviews. I think fast on my feet, as they say and so I can do this.
“Well, here’s the deal. Numbers don’t lie. Numbers always tell the truth. You can’t hide the truth with numbers so in the end the numbers will tell the truth and the truth will be revealed.”
Super smart answer, like, don’t you think?? If this had been real life, I would’ve been that girl who ended up on youtube with her life in ruins because she gave one bad answer. Anyway, I was so happy to wake up and I promise myself that I will do better.
I will start reading the newspaper. I will learn more about the candidates (and those of you who k now my family, know that my Aunt Ida just rattled her grave at the thought that a.) I don’t already know these things and b.) that it would even matter since as a Coulter (as in the family name, not as in my son) I should just be a party-line voter. And the fact that she is already with Jesus is the only reason that I’m still alive because if she were here, she would’ve surely killed me after learning that I am not even registered to vote in the state of Nebraska. Maybe I could drive to Sioux Falls?
Last week I was shopping with my mom (and by shopping, I mean my mom bought me a birthday gift, we had lunch and got Emma Claire a hair cut. My mom paid for the outing, including the gas and no personal funds nor any measly child support monies were used for this excursion.) Anyway, there was a bumper sticker with the word KERREY on it. I said, “Good grief. Let’s move on. I can’t believe that guy still has a John Kerry sticker on his car.” My mom, who from Arkansas, obviously knows more about Nebraska politics than I, said, “Well, it could be for Bob Kerrey, you know, who’s running for Senator.”
Oh. Maybe so.
So back to my dream. Once my own nightmare is over, I vow to do better. I look on my calendar and I realize that the election is one day before the dissolution of my marriage. And then again, all motivation to care about this election, all energy to learn about financial plans and educational plans and the future of our country dissipates.
Anger and sadness make us selfish. I try hard to overcome it, but I know it’s there. I am very selfish right now. And more important to me than Romney or Ryan and Obama or (good grief, I just forgot the name of our VP) anyway, my children trump them all. How arrogant, right? My child’s future is exceedingly more important than theirs. If it doesn’t involve my little beauties, then I simply don’t care. (And yes, I get that this election affects them…..just go with me on this…)
One day, I will care again. One day I will read a newspaper and I will learn and I will be intelligent and well spoken on current issues but for today all I care about, all I pray for is the day that we can wake up from this nightmare and start living the good kind a dream. You know, the kind where you never want to wake up….
In the meantime, just remember my friends. Numbers don’t lie. Numbers always tell the truth. You can’t hide the truth with numbers.
Good Grief. 🙂