And, of course, it would mean a lot to Robin.
I have never won anything in my life. So I don’t expect to win this contest. But I do find it flattering to be nominated in the Grande Conservative Blogress Diva contest on Gay Patriot.
Just in case, I am hard at work on my acceptance speech. Here’s a sneak preview: “I am so grateful for this honor. I’d like to thank my husband, Jon; oh, never mind, he’s wearing a T-Shirt that reads, “I never slept with that woman. . .Robin of Berkeley.”
Well then, I’d like to thank my closest friends; hmm. . ..forget about that. They don’t even know I’m a conservative. And they’d dump me in two seconds flat. My family, then; I’ll thank them: No, they also haven’t a clue.
See, Robin really needs this award to keep herself going, because she has to keep her real self hidden from everyone around her. Her friends and family and those whom she is supposed to trust would certainly reject her if they knew the truth about her, because they are so judgemental and evil and stuff. (I'm sure the psychological profession has a term for this condition, and maybe they'll tell it to Robin if she wins this award.)
Anyway, not only does Robin need this award, she also deserves if to make up for the hell that is her everyday life. Here's a sample from earlier this year:
I am in Whole Foods examining some (non-organic) strawberries. Out of nowhere, a woman charges at me like a mad bull. She launches into an impassioned and very scary tirade about nasty pesticides and poisoned farm workers. I feel lucky to get out of there in one piece (but without strawberries).
Because in Berkeley, health food devotes frequently murder shoppers in grocery stores when they get worked up about pesticides.
I spend fifty minutes staring at Obama -- well not Barack in the flesh, but his likeness on my young client's t-shirt. Fantasize about closing up shop and hanging up my shingle in Texas. But does anyone in those red states actually need a shrink?
Pity poor Robin, who was forced to stare at a likeness of Obama for 50 minutes while some young liberal jerk babbled on about ... something -- Robin obviously can't be expected to pay attention to his words when he was so inconsiderate as to wear that hateful t-shirt for his appointment. He probably did it on purpose just to annoy Robin -- and to send her the message that the President is out to get her. Too bad everyone in the red states is too sane to need somebody like Robin to fix their psyches.
Wednesday:As part of an evil progressive plot to ruin Robin's week, the slack jawed, hippie cashier failed to offer Robin a bag, and so Robin had to ask for one (because the alternate would have been to put her tube of holistic KY jelly in her purse). And asking meant a big victory for the forces of socialism everywhere! Of course, Robin got some of her own back by glaring, but the cashier did possibly snicker, and that is just so unacceptable that nobody would blame Robin for going back with a non-holistic gun and shooting up the store!
Head over to my local holistic pharmacy for some personal hygiene products. After handing over the cash to the cashier, she stares at me blankly. I look at her, she looks at me, I look at her, she looks at me...until finally I break the stalemate.
I utter the five most scandalous words in Berkeley: "May I have a bag?" What I actually want to say is, "Do you expect me to carry my intimate female products on my head like they do in the third world?!" -- but instead, I simply glare. Upon exiting the store, I am certain I hear snickering.
The highlight of my week! My sweetie and I hightail it to a magical, foreign land -- the suburbs! After driving thirty minutes, I know that we are heading in the right direction when the car in front of us displays the following bumper sticker: Liberalism is a Mental Disorder. I laugh uproariously while my leftist hubby scowls his disapproval.
It's a whole new world: No one is all up in my business, the streets aren't trashed, and I only see a handful of Obama bumper stickers.
But the pièce de résistance is when I buy shampoo at CVS and the cashier places the product in a bag without even asking. She does so with a warm smile rather than a contemptuous growl! I now know ecstasy!
And if Robin gets such a thrill from a CVS bag, just imagine her reaction to winning that award from the Gay Conservative Blog Guy. So, go forth and vote, if you feel like it. (The contest only runs until Dec. 31st and Robin already commands a substantial majority, but if you don't vote, then you can't complain about not being offered a bag in the holistic drug store.)