Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Boy, that back massage is going to feel good.

Oh, hello! I didn't see you there. I was just thinking about the back massage that I will soon be receiving, by way of my winning a bet that Hilary Clinton will come back, like the unstoppable weeble-wobble she is, and take back the campaign.

After Obama's last tidal wave of primary election victory, Mr. P started throwing around words like "toast," "finished," and "history," in regard to our favorite female candidate. I, on the other hand, started to think: not so fast.

I could sense it. It was a negative round of fire on her opponent, but it was all she had. He remained unfurled - a quality that I have found appealing - as she chip, chip, chipped away at his cool exterior. At some point I felt the tides shift; I don't remember the particular moment, but I thought: she's actually going to pull this off.

That's when I made a bet with Mr. P.

Ha! Woman trumps man! Again.

I'm inspired by her resurgence; it reminds me that it's always worth fighting for something. Not that I'm super-pro-Hil (I'm really not, not yet), but she's improved my life already.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get myself to the Body Shop for some massage oil.