Back in 2004, I sat in my then cottage with two writer friends who happen to be on Redroom, and we watched the debate between John Kerry and George Bush.  At the time, I was so numb from leaving my husband, that the debate seemed like an extension of the badness.  Who was this man we called our president?  How could it be possible we elected someone so clueless about so many things? And then when Bush won the election and not Kerry, his victory became part of the swirling stuff in my life that seemed wrong and dark.

I went home for a few months to try to stop the swirl, but I couldn't seem to make George go back to Texas.  My going back home didn't work well and neither did the past four years.  In some ways this morning, I feel as though I've woken up from a very bad dream, except the evidence of what Bush did is all around us.  He set up shop and then destroyed everything on the shelves.  Last night, Obama recited the litany of problems:  Two wars, a broken economy, an environment in peril.

I don't want to gloat about Obama's victory as some of my close Republican friends and family did four years ago when Bush won again in 2004.  There is nothing here to gloat about.  Obama won the election, and now there is so much to do, I can't imagine anyone really wanting to take on that job.  Things will likely get worse before they get better, too, and he will likely take a lot of heat as he tries to institute the changes he talked about during his campaign.

My anarchist son told me a couple of days ago that nothing big enough broke to effect the change that is needed.  "It's all the same thing," he said.  "Neither party can really fix the mess we are in."

Well, I have some hope.   Bush's first four years were like a really bad first date, and the second four years were like an arranged marriage with someone horrible.  Freed of that bond, I hope that we can get out of the wars, develop our own fuel and energy sources, stop polluting our world, and try to create some economic balance.  These don't seem like impossible things to me, and I don't want to believe my son's prognostication.  I want to believe that last night meant something good for us all.  I don't want another long bad date.

Jessica

PS.  If you have been following my pumpkin carnage photos and blog stories, I discovered the culprit yesterday and caught him on camera here.  Little rascal!