Paralleling a planet in flux, American voters (and European voters, for that matter) are like the Arctic — in meltdown. Conspiracists, nationalists, and folks swaddled in a coat of angry fear, won the day. That bottle of champagne in my refrigerator remains uncorked.
I wonder how many times I’ve been called a bitch? Was I a bitch because I have strapped “them” on and wrestled the proverbial bulls? Did I wear the title because I stood for my beliefs? Is it bitchy because I’m the boss and confident with decision making? I don’t know. However, I suspect that because I have refused (or been unable) to act subservient or lesser-than, that the bitch word has likely been attached to certain conversations about me.
Perhaps by this post’s end, the answer to my question, “Am I good-looking enough to run for a political office?” will find an answer. You see, I’m mightily confused about appearance, political office and political correctness. A confluence of events and random conversations pushed this question to the front. In one news thread, Hillary Clinton’s political future rivals her hair for headlines; another thread chats up President Obama’s complimentary quip about California’s female attorney general; pundits chat about other possible 2016 presidential […]