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Saturday, Hail to the Shrub, and all that jazz Hmm. It seems that there's been a spot of protesting in Washington along the Inaugural Parade route. Which certainly shouldn't be surprising, all told -- then again, I'm sure George W. doesn't give much of a whoop. He's in, Clinton's out, and that's all that matters to his team. Okay, fine. We've dealt with questionable presidents before, and we will do it again. Barring a coup or Handmaiden's Tale-esque takeover (most unlikely, of course, but it's still reassuring that I'm relatively close to an international border AND have a British husband), the Shrub shouldn't be all that disasterous on a personal level. What I have a few issues with are some of his announced choices, such as John Ashcroft for attorney general and this Faith-Based funding fiasco. The next four years should be such a joy. But enough of Presidential whinging -- I'm back in Stockholm! Back in the arms of my beloved, and clinging to him like Anna Nicole Smith to a Ding-Dong. We have three actual days together, and we're going to make the most of every single minute. So if you don't see much from me over the next few days, you'll understand why. Just be happy for me -- I've got to store up enough memories to last me for five long weeks.
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