Kismet

Some of you will remember this post, where I professed puzzlement at the flier for Dan Farley, potential Congressman to the Stars, aka the guy running for State Rep. Seems like a good enough guy, but the picture on that particular flier, with his wife in the pleather dominatrix-style boots, was a bit....odd. Or maybe I’m just behind the times, who knows.

Anyway, I’m working out yesterday, i.e. breathing deeply and visualizing my triathlon greatness, when the doorbell rings. I peek out the window to make sure it’s not the paparazzi or hordes of fans, but it’s a lone guy who has a stack of signs or something in his hand. Figuring it must be politics related – after all, I get about 7 calls a day now on my cell phone from various candidates – I actually answer the door. And who should be standing there but......Dan Farley! Yes, in Tasha’s BizarroWorld, the one politician who I kind-of-mocked-but-not-really is on my doorstep, placards in hand.

I know, I know, you’re all waiting to hear about how I grilled him on important topics – “What’s with your wife’s boots, dude? And the cute family dog staring off screen at the biscuit – is that really your dog or just a prop?” But no, I didn’t have the heart for it, as he seemed like a very nice guy, and he’s endorsed by Mike Quigley, hockey goon and former thorn in Todd Stroger’s side, so that’s good enough for me, pleather boots and all. Plus anyone who goes door-to-door on a blustery winter night looking for votes has gumption, or something. Let’s go with gumption. Dan Farley, you’ve got my vote – and since only about 67 people in this district of yours actually vote in the primary, well, that could very well be the deciding factor.

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On another note, I went downtown today for my 6-month mammogram – whee! – and yet again it was borne out how the Fuck Cancer hat brings people together, as I went to the Prentice (site of my surgery THIS Monday, bon-bons permitted on the premises) and got onto the elevator, where there were already three doctorly types. I push my button, the door closes, and I start chatting with my new BFFs.

Cute doctor #1: I just have to tell you, I love your hat! That’s great!
Me: Thanks! Yeah, it’s my happy hat – kind of sums it all up, doesn’t it?
Doctor #2: Let’s see........oh yeah, that’s so awesome! We’re all cancer doctors, so.....
Me: Oh, then I’m sure you especially get the sentiment...
Doctor #3: Hey, we should get that written on our coats!

And I get off on my floor, with my new friends happily chatting away about bringing Fuck Cancer to the masses in whatever way possible. It really does take a village.

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And on a somewhat sad note, I finally received in the mail the password and such that I need to get online and take my driver’s ed class because of that damn ticket, after which I presume I’ll get my driver’s license back. They don’t state this explicitly, instead babbling about some “certificate” I receive (yes, really), but I hope the DL is included in that somewhere? Maybe?

On the other hand, I’m kinda going to miss that lil’ ol’ crumpled piece of paper. We’ve been through so much together.....