Thursday, June 6, 2013

On "The West Wing" and Turning 23.

This is my return to blogging for real, you guys. I finished my Honors Term at Beloit College and am now living in Madison.  I work at Chocolate Shoppe Ice Cream as a Scooper three days a week. I watch The West Wing and help my cat catch bugs. We are an amazing team; if she can't reach the bug I swat it down and she gets it in her paws. I love scooping ice cream because I get to make little kids happy. I'm living away from home on my own and I miss my nieces and nephews and my little brother every single day. But when I see a kid's eyes light up and his mouth drop open when he goes into Chocolate Shoppe, it brightens my day. That's cheesy. I know.

Birthday outfit. Before I changed like four times.
I turned 23 yesterday, which is almost 24, which is almost 25. I slept in and woke up to a Whole Foods gift card from my Dad, and so I rode the bus to Whole Foods. I bought a rotisserie chicken. I don't know why. I also bought a demi-baguette, which is French for "I'm going to eat this entire baguette on the premise that it's only half of a baguette." Or something. I came home to find flowers from my Aunt Sara, which made my heart swell a little bit more. I went to dinner with some of my favorite people in Madison and had drinks at my favorite bar, Forequarter. Then I watched the most recent episode of "Game of Thrones," which, if you've been on the Internet at all since Sunday, you'll know was...emotionally devastating to fans of said show. My throat hurts from trying to keep myself from crying and, from, well, the last shot of the episode.

"Catelyn Stark Side-eyeing George RR Martin"
Anyways, 23 is the same as being 22, except without a Taylor Swift song. Living alone is nice, but I am getting way too caught up in "The West Wing." Here's my main problem: President Bartlet has MS, which we find out pretty early on in the series. He doesn't disclose it to the American people until he starts considering reelection. If Bartlet was really the good, honest president the show wants us to love and believe that he is, and not a power hungry ego maniac (as all presidents are, to varying degrees), he wouldn't have run for reelection. Right? And I love the other characters, too, but the fact that none of them really had a problem with Bartlet running for reelection (because they're blinded by his "good, honest" president thing, like the viewers) or because they're also all selfish ego maniacs who care more about their jobs and opinions than actually helping the American people. And yet, despite the constant exposition, I've continued to watch the show. That's how much I love the characters, and am swept up in what I want the White House and the presidency to be. Bartelt admits that he's wrong and takes a censure from Congress; the American people forgive him.

I'm so wide-eyed and romantic about the office of the President. I'm only 23 and one day old! I want to believe that the people in Washington are like they are on "The West Wing" instead of how they are on "Veep" (openly selfish ego-maniacs, but just as brilliant). I want to believe that I won't ever have to bring my cat to the vet, and that she loves me as much as I love her, even though that's crazy because she's a cat, not a human, duh. I want to believe that, seriously, I can stay away from home for years at a time and not miss it, or that my two beautiful three year olds will remember me if I'm not there. I guess if you're 23 you're allowed to be wide-eyed and romantic about the world, so please, nobody tell me any of those things aren't true. I get to believe them for a few more years.

1 comment:

  1. Sasha, please come back to your blog. You are gifted and your words are helping me understand racism in Madison. I'm an idealist aboutt many things- but about this- I am a realist. Talking about and blogging about racism is a start. Where do we go from here?