My hometown was home to a surprising number of Mormon families, considering it wasn’t located in either Utah or Arizona. One of my close friends in high school happened to be LDS, and she invited me to church with her once. In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t tell my parents I was going beforehand.

For those of you who’ve never attended Mormon services before, here’s all you need to know: Since they don’t drink wine, the “crackers and juice” portion of the service includes individual paper water cups. After the group service, everyone breaks into groups based on age and gender. I was placed in the “Young Women’s” group.

In this particular meeting of this group, two 30-something women talked to a dozen high school girls about making decisions based on their beliefs. They talked about establishing your “agency”, so that when an opportunity presents itself in your life (at the time, I took this to mean, your friends ask you to smoke weed, or your boyfriend asks you if you want to have sex), you compare the issue to your agency, or list of beliefs, and find out how you feel. The idea really appealed to me. It’s like a dichotomous key for making decisions. Excuse me, time out. How do I feel about this? Let me check with my agency… Oh, nope. I don’t believe in premarital sex. Sorry! I’m terrible at making decisions as it is – I can’t even pick a brand of peanut butter at the grocery store. This seemed like the best solution EVER!

But something I learned in “my whole long life,” as I used to say when I was little, is that it’s more respectable to make the decision on a case-by-case basis. Then you can take into consideration all of the information you have (or don’t), and make an educated decision. For instance, smoking weed in middle school didn’t seem like a good idea, so I didn’t. Smoking weed when I was 18? Seemed about right. And it was. But if I’d decided when I was 15 at that LDS church in Montana that I would never do it, I would have had an ulcer before age 19. And I would have missed out on a ridiculously fun evening, in all honesty.

This is how I feel about political opinions. For instance, I’ve never really formed an opinion on immigration laws. I have never lived near the Mexican border, nor have I heard the arguments on both sides of immigration issues, so I haven’t formed an educated opinion. I know that immigration is the way my family got here, and I know that Mexicans are pretty great people (see: roommate), but I’ve never known someone who was negatively affected by an illegal immigrant worker. So I never talk about the subject, nor would I ever regurgitate someone else’s opinion to sound knowledgeable. If and when I hear arguments from both sides, I will form an opinion. And until I feel strongly about it, I’ll leave it in the hands of the folks who do.

I never really knew how I felt about late-term/partial-birth abortions. I’m VERY CLEAR about my pro-choice stance, but it’s hard to get behind aborting babies that are pretty close to being babies. I always sort of assumed I would fall back on the “slippery slope” argument, even though I knew it was flawed. But last week, I read the blog Uppercase Woman for the first time. Specifically, this post, which then led me to this heart-wrenching post. And now, I’m with Cecily. The idea that some poor couple would ever have to make the decision with which she and her husband were faced just about kills me, but the idea that they would have no choice is absolutely atrocious. And after reading all of this, I can’t imagine what she went through when she watched John McCain on TV, talking about Democrats “stretching” the idea of a woman’s health in order to rationalize abortions. What sort of sick people think that someone out there in the world is actually pro-abortion? Or that the decision is ever made easily?

When I think of Republicans, I imagine that they created their “agency” when they signed on with the Republican Party, and now all of their decisions are made for them. Are you pro-life with a pregnant teenage daughter? I hear wedding bells! Did you have a gay experience in an airport bathroom? Tell your wife you’re sorry, then sign up for a class at church that will help you control your urges. Never, under any circumstances, reevaluate your decisions based on the information presented. Even if it could save thousands of soldiers’ lives or help a family who isn’t able to pay their medical bills due to layoffs. Instead, send horrible, deplorable messages to innocent people who are already suffering, pretending you know something about their situation.

Because if you’re going to suffer with your repressed sexuality and pregnant teenage daughter who’s engaged to a man she doesn’t really want to marry, then by all means, bring us down with you. Don’t change your original, uneducated, untested opinion.

I’m hoping that if you read this blog, and are therefore a friend or family member of mine, you vote. I’m assuming you are registered to vote on November 4. I’m not going to say I don’t care who you vote for, because I do, but it’s none of my business. And if you’re interested in talking to me about your choice or mine, you know where to find me.

However, I do know that there are times when people who think they are registered, in fact, aren’t. Or they forgot to change their address. Or they’ve had their voter registration challenged.

(Side note, that article actually made me sick to my stomach. Within hours of it being posted online, a friend from Montana who now lives in Copenhagen sent it to me, my mom sent it to me, and my aunt wrote me to make sure I wasn’t still registered in Montana and being challenged. The fact that the spokesman for the Secretary of State even said that everyone should return the affidavits signed and notarized “for the benefit of all involved”, even made it worse. Also, I went to high school with Kevin Furey and I’m glad he said exactly what everyone else was thinking and that he was used as the perfect example of why voter challenging is blatant intimidation and attempted disfranchisement. I know there are a lot of assholes in Montana. I know there are lots of assholes everywhere. But I expected more of my home state.)*

Anyway, I’m asking you, as a friend or family member, to do two things.
1. Watch this video.
2. Go to the website and either register to vote if you aren’t, or check to make sure you’re registered at your current address. (You can also request an absentee ballot in case you don’t live in the same silly state I do, where everyone is required to be absent on election day).
The second favor is definitely more important than the first one, but the first is entertaining and makes the title of this post make sense. Plus, I stole the idea from my friend Julie.

You want to know the other thing? I can check to see if you’re registered if you live in Oregon. So you can’t lie and say you are if you aren’t. Creepy, huh? Lies don’t make friends!

*Update on the MT sitch.

October 3, 2008

Sarah Palin
Nowhere, AK 99901

Dear Governor Palin,

Noo-klee-ar.

Sincerely,
Megan

Enclosures

cc: George W. Bush

Thanks go to Kristin for sending this to me.

The following is an open letter to anyone on the streets of Portland who is even considering talking to me.

To Whom it May Concern,

I am a good person. I work for a local non-profit. I volunteer occasionally (even early in the morning the day after celebrating a friend’s thirtieth birthday a little over-zealously). I believe in thinking globally and acting locally. And I consider myself politically-active and aware of the issues that our society currently faces. I give money to causes and groups about which I feel strongly and have been known to campaign for them on a few occasions. I have a set of firm, core beliefs that are important to me and guide me through difficult times. And I don’t live my day-to-day life feeling like I’m searching for something I haven’t found.

I do not want to sign your petition. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel strongly that politicians should not take money from PACs without writing thank-you notes and that we would be better off if the Oregon Coast was lined with free-range seal refuges. I may even be convinced that everyone should be able to grow their own weed in their cars if they want to. For medicinal purposes, of course. But just because you have a Greenpeace sticker on your clipboard or an Obama ’08 shirt on your back does not mean that you are trustworthy. Particularly if you ask for a donation by either credit card or electronic funds transfer (I’m looking at you, hippie outside Powell’s draped in hemp jewelry).

I do not want to adopt your pagan babies. I’ve seen their pictures – I admit they’re adorable. I can’t deny that their tiny frail bodies and huge hopeful eyes pull at my heartstrings. But when you approach me on my lunch break and try to reel me in by telling me that I have a beautiful smile, I only want to yell at you for accosting me while I’m enjoying singing along to Jason Mraz on my iPod and tell you that flattery will only get you so far. And it will DEFINITELY not get you into my wallet. I would be more likely to buy a copy of Street Roots than give you my money. And don’t give me that look, either, or I’ll ask you for a donation to MY fund for sick kids.

I do not want to hear about your church. I am so happy for you and your blissful state of existence. In some ways, I wish I knew what it felt like to be so incredibly sure that I had found the best thing in the universe that I would approach complete strangers in Pioneer Square and ask them about their relationship with God, but I respect their time and their personal space too much to ever do so. I am steadfast in my belief that people can find the system that’s right for them on their own, and that approaching them when they least expect it is a horrible way of converting them. I would rather walk into the Church of Scientology on my way to work and take a stress test than answer the door (to my HOME) for a couple of elders with bike helmets.

I don’t even mind being asked for change. I rarely, if ever, give it, but beggars don’t bother me nearly as much as the rest of you. As my friend Michelle says, you are the telemarketers of the street. You are relentless and you are on every corner. I can’t take it anymore. There are only so many excuses to make – “I’m not an Oregon voter.” “No thanks, I’m in a hurry.” “I’m Jewish – some people believe I killed Jesus.” I’m going to start saying ridiculous things to see if you’re even listening. “Not today, buddy. My chi is off.” “How could I even think about starving children in Africa when it’s raining in Portland?” “My relationship with God? Mutual indifference.”

Please, just leave me alone. Everyone will be much happier that way.

That is all. Thank you for your time. I’m sure it’s valuable.

Megan

You may have missed it, but right before Hillary Clinton spoke at the DNC on Tuesday, there was a goofy-looking guy from Montana on the stage, jumping around and getting excited. That man was Brian Schweitzer, our governor.

Here it is, in case you couldn’t watch it the other night:

And just in case you don’t think he’s awesome (and a total badass) after that, check out this article from Daily Kos.

I like to think of Montana as a “deep-purple” state, seeing as both of our senators and our governor are Democrats, but our (sole) representative is a Republican and we tend to vote for Republican presidents. But I’m really hoping that people like Schweitzer can help explain to Montanans why voting Republican may seem like a good idea when you want to carry your hunting rifles in the truck, even when your 15-year old daughter’s driving, but it always ends with that 15-year old daughter having one of the worst public educations in the country, thanks to our terrible school system.

Or at least just convince them to vote for Obama in November.

Last Tuesday, Oregon Democrats gave 31 of their 52 not-so-super delegates to Barack Obama. According to CNN.com, he is now 48 delegates away from securing the Democratic Party’s nomination. Oregon’s primary mattered more this time than it did four years ago, no question. But the really amazing thing happened last Sunday, May 18th.

Alex, Julia, Zach, and I gathered with 75,000 of our closest friends on the Portland waterfront to hear Barack Obama speak. It was the biggest crowd his campaign has seen and the largest rally in U.S. history. From the time I got in line 5 blocks away from the entrance until I got through the metal detectors and found a good spot, 45 minutes passed. Then it was about an hour until the Decemberists played (who I love not just because of their music, but because frontman Colin Meloy is a fellow Oregonian/Montanan who loves Barack). And it was about a half hour after they were done that Senator Obama finally got on stage. It was incredibly hot and we didn’t bring any water. Thankfully, Julia brought sunscreen or the sunburn I got would have been 10 times worse. I was dehydrated, hot, and uncomfortable. And I loved every minute of it.

The cross-section of Portland that attended was incredibly diverse and made for great people-watching. Plus Alex and I wore shirts we made:

And got A LOT of comments. (“Bros before hos? That’s terrible!” – “Hey, where’d you get those shirts? I want one!” – “Nice shirt!” – “Isn’t Bill the ho?”)

I was probably 40 feet away from the man himself, and he was amazing. He spoke for about half an hour on topics ranging from the unification of the Democratic Party in November and the mistreatment of veterans to the difficulty of paying for a college education and the recent news that he and Dick Cheney are cousins. He sounded tired, he tripped over his words a few times, but he captivated the crowd. He spoke as if he was just having a conversation with a buddy about things that were on his mind at the moment. But he was eloquent and interesting. At one point, he told someone in the crowd, “I love you back.” He was, in one word, incredible.

When my friend Brad told me later that night that he heard the crowd totaled 75,000, I didn’t believe him. Had Governor Tom McCall Waterfront Park been dropped in the state of Montana with that crowd, it would have been the second-largest city in the state.

There was a period of a few minutes, while I was waiting for him to take the stage, when I worried about Obama’s safety. My mom has been telling me lately about what it was like to see JFK, Martin Luther King, and Bobby Kennedy get shot on TV, and the similarities she sees between this election and the political situation in the 60s. (Clearly she isn’t the only one). As my aunt and uncle said in an email to me afterwards, “We are the kids of John, Martin & Bobby, and tend to fret about the nuts.” But then I just decided to think about how thankful I was to be able to say I saw him, I heard him, and I voted for him.

Barack Obama is in Portland today. Tickets to his “Stand for Change” rally ran out pretty damn fast. I really wanted to go, but knew I wouldn’t be able to take the morning off work.

Jason actually got a ticket and was looking forward to going, but then found out he couldn’t get out of the whole work thing either. He was browsing Craigslist yesterday, looking for someone in need of a ticket, and saw that there were hundreds of “I need Obama tickets!” postings. He also noticed that a couple of news stations had postings looking for people who were exchanging tickets that they could interview.

So he posted this:
____
Obama ticket available in exchange for a First Date – $1

23-year old bright, witty, athletic and charming male Obama supporter has a ticket to tomorrow’s rally that he won’t be able to use.

Willing to trade the Obama ticket for a first date with a single “Obama Girl.”

If interested, email responses to the following three questions by 10 pm. I will contact the most interesting candidate and set up a time to hand off the ticket. If tonight doesn’t work, my office is in downtown PDX and I could hand off the ticket then.

1. Should politics be discussed on a first date?

2. What do you like best about Obama’s platform?

3. What is your ideal first date?
____

Shortly after posting it, he received emails from the Oregonian, KATU, and KOIN asking for an interview. Unfortunately, he didn’t get back to them before their deadlines. However, “The Guy Who Posted on Craigslist Looking for a Date in Exchange for Obama Tickets” was mentioned on TV and the radio this morning. Then one of Jason’s friends that is working on Obama’s Oregon campaign texted him from the press tent this morning to say, “I’m with the media and they r talking about your ad. You’re famous!”

He received 6 responses from Obama Girls in the Portland Metro area. Here are some excerpts from my favorites:

“So, I am not sure if I am entirely interested, but I have got to give it to you for the creativity. I can’t decide if it is desperate or brilliant!” (Incidentally, she answered all the questions but refused to give him her phone number).

“Favorite piece of Obama’s platform…That’s a tough one. His vision of unity is inspiring and his aspirations for change gives me goosebumps. For me he’s almost like sushi, you can’t exactly pin what you like about him, yet you can’t get enough!”

“I like your approach—that is, if you are truly witty, smart, athletic and politically minded and not the 2008 version of Ted Bundy strategically sanitized by an Obama campaign button…”

“I don’t know what the protocol is here–I have never done this. I will say, I am 26, and a sufficiently attractive brunette. I don’t know what else to say to convey that I am not some sort of internet troglodyte, or social pariah from Craigslist….I can’t even believe I’m doing this—-but hey, I have a spare ticket to the Springsteen concert next week and if you are, in fact, not a cretin or Ted Bundy type that might prove a good trade. :)”

“I have thought of the potential for meeting an interesting man, by way of the democratic political venue before but have been deterred by the impression that here in Portland to be a democrat is synonymous with being a crunchy-sock-with-teva-wearing-granola-fed-hippy with questionable hygiene. Please tell me, from where did this aesthetic of “cleanliness is uncool” derive?”

**Author’s note: I did not edit any of these. Please know that a “[sic]” should follow every quote and the post itself.

According to Jason, although he had to reference Dictionary.com multiple times in order to understand her email, he still chose the girl who wrote the last 3 quotes. He handed her the ticket this morning before the rally. I don’t have any details as to when she’ll hold up her end of the bargain, but hopefully he’ll update me.

The Interwebs have spoken:

www.hillaryismomjeans.com

www.barackobamaisyournewbicycle.com

Just keep hitting Refresh until you’re laughing. Repeat.

I go kinda crazy on holidays sometimes. I love them all. Pretty much any excuse to celebrate or dress up is something I can support. However, today, for the first time in years, I did not dress up or even wear one string of beads for Mardi Gras, out of respect for the seriousness that is Super Tuesday. (I couldn’t go without any Mardi Gras action, though, I snuck purple, gold and green into my outfit without anyone really noticing. It made me feel better).

Today, I was focused on my man Barack. I fell in love with Barack Obama after/while reading his book The Audacity of Hope. I found his intelligence refreshing and was surprised by his ability to step back from the madness that is politics and try to find unconventional solutions to the problems he faced. I don’t claim to know a lot about politics, but I think he’s pretty great.

Now, to be fair, I also liked John Kerry. Sure, he had no personality or charisma, but during certain parts of his speech at the Democratic National Convention, I was hanging on his every monotonous word. I told my brother how cool I thought some of the things he said were, to which Pete responded that he and I were probably the only ones who thought they were attractive, while everyone else thought they were too radical and not centrist enough. Fair enough.

But Barack speaks to me. He’s interesting and engaging. He publicly acknowledges and admires his wife’s strength. He laughs about his experiences raising two girls. He’s educated but not inaccessible. He even jokes about Bill Clinton’s dance moves.

So you can imagine my dismay when Julie sent me this quiz today and my results were as follows:

88% Similarity – Mike Gravel
81% Similarity – Hillary Clinton
79% Similarity – Barack Obama

Mike fucking GRAVEL?!?! I mean, I guess it’s better than Mitt Romney… but Gravel actually ran on a platform that included abolishing the IRS. Talk about a whacko. Apparently, though, he and I see eye-to-eye on matters of education, Iraq, and a woman’s right to choose. Who knew?

Anyway, the moral of this story is that I still have a crush on Obama, but that if Hillary happens to win the nomination, I will still get behind her all the way. She may be a bit of a corporate tool with a husband who is quickly losing my respect and admiration (AFTER he left office, mind you. That’s not normal.), but she and I can agree on the important things, and that’s enough. Plus, a broad in the White House would be pretty sweet.

If Barack wins, though… I’m going to put on some beads and party like the Obama Girl I am!