In my imagination Sen. Hillary Clinton has felt like Jerry Seinfeld’s character in his self titled show the last few days.  President-elect Barack Obama is her Newman.

I haven’t slept in weeks. I”ve been pacing and fretting and hand-wringing, and worrying. Have I done enough? I took a crowbar, pried open my wallet, and donated $1041.77 to the campaign. I put a bumper sticker (okay, a removable magnet) on my car – the first thing I’ve put on a car since transparent window college stickers went out of style in 1991. Despite all this, only one question fills my mind day and night: Will Sen. Barack Obama be elected President of the United States?

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I was a chatty kid. Once I started talking as a toddler, I never stopped. Ask my mother. Better yet, ask my husband. If I”m quiet for more than a minute or two, he takes my pulse, literally. He believes I”ll stop talking when I”m dead. 

Mrs. Filippi, my first grade Catholic schoolteacher , had two long tables of students – the good kids and the bad kids. The good kids were smart, performed well on tests, and were cited for good behavior, like keeping quiet. The bad kids did not conform to these standards. They could not behave and did not get it. School, I got.

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The Republican party is leaving conservatives behind and they don’t know that to say or do about it.

And I thought George Will had hit the wall of unintelligible babble during the post debate pundit talkathon.

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