things i've had at the back of my mind recently

1. People who are truly self-aware/self-actualized usually don't feel the need to talk about how truly self-aware/self-actualized they are.

2. Ditto for people who are truly bad ass.

3. Obama won! Obama won! I wish Barack Obama wasn't married, with children. I wish I wasn't married, with child. Because then I could marry Barack Obama and be the First Lady. Except the pundits are pushing for him to put Hilary on his Vice President ticket and I can just see it now: Hilary and I would fight, all the time. She seems like kind of a know-it-all, and sort of uptight. And also one of those people who revel in being called a bitch (see number 5, below). And so if I was First Lady, we'd probably end up having a lot of conversations like:

AMY: Hilary, stop telling me how to decorate the White House. You aren't the boss of the White House anymore. You're the boss of the Vice President House. Barack and I are number one. You and Bill are number two now. Get over yourselves. And tell Bill to quit text messaging me pictures of his ass.

HILARY: But you aren't doing it right. This is NOT how Bill and I decorated when we were here. Bill and I decorated with a very faux Scot-Irish theme, and you are attempting 70's bohemian. 1970's bohemian is very, very inappropriate for the White House.

AMY: Don't you have a phone call to make to James Carville? Or some universal health care crap to work on? Or something?

HILARY: Don't tell me what to do, Amy! You are just the First Lady. The First Lady's job is coordinating state dinners and gala balls and reading to poor school children in Mississippi. *I* am second-in-command, the Vice President, next in line for the throne to the leadership of the free world. The Vice President's job is flying around the world to meet with powerful world leaders, signing multi-billion dollar agreements, and in general being very important.

AMY: God, Hilary. You are SUCH a bitch.

HILARY (all flattered and stuff): Why. Well, thank you, Amy. Thank you so much.

So I guess what I'm saying is I'm actually glad I married a different black guy who has no presidential ambitions. Michelle Obama can deal with Hilary. AFTER THEY KICK JOHN MCCAIN'S ASS! (Woo!)

4. You know who I've come to believe is scary? Car salespeople. Don't ever, ever give car salespeople your phone number or email address; you will regret it every time. They are RELENTLESS. Which is really annoying. Thank god for whoever invented the spam box.

5. Why do some people LIKE being called a "bitch"? They seem to revel in the behavior, and wear this label as if it's a badge of courage. When I think of someone who's a bitch? I'm very equal opportunity about it: I've met people--female AND male--and thought: "Wow, that person is really a bitch." I recently had this thought about Dick Cheney after I read an interview in which he was told 98% of Americans think invading Iraq was a bad decision and now want out and his response was: "So?" And I thought: "Wow, Dick Cheney is SUCH a bitch."

Which I do realize is very judgmental and not at all how God sees Dick Cheney; God loves Dick Cheney because Dick Cheney is a child of God. A misguided child of God partly responsible for the deaths of many innocent Iraqi children and the ultimate mass surge of terrorism and more violence in that part of the world, and all because Dick wanted to further Halliburton's corporate interests and gain easier access to Iraq's oil, but he is a child of God nonetheless. But I am a work in progress, not God, and so when I think these types of thoughts, I am never, ever thinking them in a begrudgingly admiring kind of way. Which is kind of what I think people who act like bitches think people are doing while interacting with them: not liking them very much, but giving them a certain amount of admiring respect, in a begrudging kind of way. They feel this is empowering behavior, and use it as much as possible to have their needs met.

But they are wrong. Because I know that when *I* deal with someone who's being bitchy, I'm usually desperately wishing they will one day have something happen to them and will finally get it: You don't have to be condescending or nasty to people to get them to do what you want. You can be firm, but nice...it is possible to be nice without being a doormat.

It's one thing to take back your power from a bad situation...in a firm and decisive, but loving way. And it's another thing to abuse, belittle, and condescend to people when attempting self-empowerment. Usually, people who are into bitchy behavior are actually very, very scared and isolated when they turn the lights off at night. And so, while awake, it seems to me that they overcompensate by reassuring themselves they're standing up for their rights by acting like jackasses. Yet this doesn't make them at all popular and ends up having the opposite effect...I mean, the behavior DOES gets them what they want, 9 times out of 10. But nobody likes doing it for them. And probably, at nightclubs, the wait staff pee in their beers a lot.

6. Last year at this time, I was all about being FREE! and FINDING MYSELF! and being My Own Person. I liked to go out and party with single people, I met people and did things that were not all that healthy or in my own best interest. I hung out in places with international themes and thought about throwing it all away. After I took a good look around me, I decided I just wanted to live a peaceful, regular life. This healing process began in November and came to its ultimate conclusion in February. When I took my power back. Firmly. But nicely.

Now, a year later, I am all about naps. Naps, milkshakes, and channeling calm. I am reading books by Anne Lamott and Rachel Naomi Remen and Marianne Williamson, 3 women I admire deeply in my heart. But I really miss cold beer and red wine. And margaritas. Margaritas are very nice too, in the summer. Virgin ones are not the same.

7. I bet Anne, Rachel, and Marianne don't drink lots of beer, wine, or margaritas in the summer. And they probably would have written numbers 3, 4, and 5 with much more compassion and way less judgment. Well, maybe not Anne Lamott. She's like me: someone who's more Christian-ish than anything, a bad Christian. But unlike Anne, I usually like to throw a dash of Buddhist beliefs into my Christian stew, and so on top of being a bad Christian, I am also a bad Buddhist. But I occasionally do have good moments. Numbers 3, 4, and 5 are obviously not among them.