When I get the opportunity to meet a politician I support, I come ready with something to say about my big issues. When I met Hillary Clinton in 2004, I thanked her for the work she’s done on behalf of women and children, saying that the country will need such a leader to run in ’08. She smiled knowingly, thanked me, and said, “Honey, your blouse is just darling.” I would’ve ripped it off my back and given it to her if she asked. With Howard Dean, I thanked him for supporting reproductive rights and other women's issues. With John Edwards, I looked him in those clear blue eyes and thanked him for inspiring me with a speech that took big stands on Iraq and healthcare. I also would’ve ripped off my blouse for him, but for entirely different reasons. (My mom is reading this, likely turning three shades of red and shaking her head at me.)
With Chelsea Clinton, one big question loomed on my mind. What kind of hair products does that women use, and where can I get them? It’s as if she stumbled out of a Pantene commercial onto the campaign trail. When I found myself shaking her hand, however, I wimped out. Instead, I told her that I had just voted for her mom and how proud I was to support her in the primary, blah blah blah. I still don’t know the secret of the hair.
Here we are, in-between rain storms as her hair holds up just fine in North Carolina humidity while I surrender mine into a ponytail. D'oh.
With Chelsea Clinton, one big question loomed on my mind. What kind of hair products does that women use, and where can I get them? It’s as if she stumbled out of a Pantene commercial onto the campaign trail. When I found myself shaking her hand, however, I wimped out. Instead, I told her that I had just voted for her mom and how proud I was to support her in the primary, blah blah blah. I still don’t know the secret of the hair.
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