Where is my Barack tee shirt? I thought to myself this week as I watched history being made on CNN. Where's my My Mama's for Obama baby onesie? Where's my Obama for Change potholder? My Barack & Roll boxer shorts?
Where's my Obama is My Homeboy trucker cap?
It's not like me not to wear my heart - or my candidate - on my sleeve, as my junk drawer scattered with worn Wes Clark, Al Gore, and John Kerry memorabilia would indicate. Deep in my closet somewhere, I even have the Hillary silkscreen tee that I proudly purchased at Marc Jacobs in my perkier-boobed days during her Senate run in New York. I think it's a size negative 12.
But last week I pulled the lever for Obama. So why no Hanes Beefy T with his likeness on the chest? I had to think hard.
Looking back at my political memorabilia, my buttons were as much a vote for the candidates as a vote for "not the other guy." My support of John Kerry may have been lukewarm at best - though God help me, I would have killed to have Theresa up there as First Lady - but my support for Not Bush was fierce and strong and unwavering.
And suddenly it became clear to me.
I may have pulled for Obama, but I'm not prepared to say "Not Hillary." I burst into tears when I saw a woman's name up to the right of the squeaky old lever in the voting booth last Tuesday. I still have some conflicted feelings for not having supported her. (Yes, I'm supposed to be bigger and cooler and smarter than that, but I guess I'm not.) And if indeed she's the candidate, I'll campaign for her like nobody's business.
But until then, I'm perfectly content to join the 70% of Democrats who agree that we've got two fine choices this year. And until one of them is the nominee, I think I'll keep my wardrobe slogan-free.
-Liz's very first Momcrat's post