Harry Reid, You Jerk!

I totally voted last night.

I had to drive all over tarnation trying to find my precinct's voting location.

When I pulled in, there were hopeful candidates and their families waving elections signs.

I teared up a little bit.

Because #1 I honestly am grateful to live in a country where I have the opportunity to vote for my elected officials and #2 In my sophomore year of high school I ran for an FFA office and didn't win.  It was a traumatic introduction to the cruelty of the electoral system - a scar I still bear today.

While there weren't any super hotly contested races in this area, I took my vote for governor very seriously.  I voted for Rick Perry for the following reasons:

1.  He gave us a half day off on Good Friday last year.
2.  He shoots coyotes.  I am a fan of anyone who shoots coyotes.
3.  I didn't really know anything about his opponent.

The race I was really interested in was the senatorial race in Nevada. 

Oh, how I prayed that Harry Reid would not get re-elected. 

Harry Reid has served as a Nevada state senator since 1987, and as the senate majority leader for the past three years (before that, he was the senate minority leader and the senate majority whip).

He has long been the bane of every rural Nevadan's existence.

Mostly because he thinks it's a good idea to pipe all available Nevada water to Las Vegas.

And also because he's a big, fat jerk.

When I was sixteen, I met Harry Reid in person.

I was at an FFA leadership conference in Washington D.C. 

Everyone had a twenty minute question/answer period with at least one of the senators from their state.

There I was, proudly sporting my blue and gold FFA jacket, thinking of all the things I would ask him.

He came in, shook my hand, and said, "I bet your mom and dad don't like me, do they?"

I said, "No, sir, they sure don't."

He turned to his staff and said, "I see no reason for this meeting to continue.  Let's take a picture and get it over with."

All I could think was, "Seriously, Harry Reid?  Seriously??"

So, while all the other youngsters were having meaningful conversations with their representatives, I was sitting in the capitol hallway trying to pretend I wasn't with Neal Jones, the other kid from WHS who was also attending the conference, who, by the way, didn't brush his teeth.  Ever.

No sir, I don't like Harry Reid.

PS, Neal Jones was the only reason I passed high school chemistry.  I'm glad he was nicer to me than I was to him.  Please never let him take me on Jerry Springer.

Dear Barack Obama,

As we are basically best friends, I assume you know Husband and I just had a baby. 

I also assume you know that I would rather be a stay-at-home-mom than work outside the home.

I've been crunching numbers for weeks, trying to find a scenario where this is possible.

Last Friday, I was pretty sure I'd found it.

By cutting things to the bone, I could stay home and raise my own child. 

Until I realized that I'd forgotten something. 

I hadn't added in the cost of health insurance. 

After further research, I discovered that getting on Husband's insurance plan at work would cost approximately one-fifth of our income. 

Yes, one-fifth. 

If we actually decided to use the insurance, we would have a $30 copay and a co-insurance of 20%.

Oh, and a $750 deductible.

So, instead, I drop my baby off every day with someone else.

And I come to work.

Out of my paycheck, 40% goes to the babysitter, 25% goes to insurance, 15% goes to taxes.

That leaves me with a neat 20% to spend as my little heart desires.

Usually I do something fun and exciting with it.

Like buy food.

Or pay for electricity.

It's pretty awesome.

Barack, Husband and I are trying to be good, responsible Americans.

We pay taxes.

We're trying our very best to meet all of our financial obligations.

Neither of us has ever taken a penny of government assistance, even though we could easily find a way to work the system.

I guess the reason I'm writing is not because I want sympathy.

Lord knows there are millions of other Americans in the same pathetic position.

I'm writing because something has to be done about it.

And since you said two years ago that you were going to do something about it, I figure now would probably be a good time to make good on that promise.

I hate to tell you this, but even if universal healthcare looks good on paper, it will never work in the real world.

Please find a way to make insurance affordable. 

Especially to those of us who barely ever use it but know we have to have it just in case something bad happens.

Thank you.

And word to your mother.