Go Obama, Go!

I awake the next morning in good spirits. My mother wakes me and tells me that I look like a "Who" from the Jim Carrey version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" which explains the name of this blog. She also told me that she has Tivo'd the end of the Democratic Convention, and that there were some incredible speeches made that night. I change my clothes and head upstairs. I walk upstairs, and wonder what breakfast will be like. Eating has become quite difficult, because the palate expansion has numbed my upper lip and teeth. I notice my grandmother is eating a peach. Peaches are probably my favorite things to eat in the entire world, but I cannot chew anything. My grandmother, who has noticed me staring longingly at the peach on her plate, comes up with the brilliant idea of mashing up a peach so it is easier to eat. She mashes up another of the peaches my mom bought from the farmer's market, and I promptly devour the entire thing. I do not thing I have ever eaten anything so delicious. When I finish eating, I warm up the Tivo and flip on the recorded Democratic convention. I watch Al Gore's speech, and immediately disagree with the common belief that he is not a good speaker. His speech is very focused and clear, and I love that he is trying to raise awareness about Global Warming. We really are killing our planet and it is nice to see that somebody actually cares besides me. The we get to Obama. Ohhhhhhhhhhh Obama! The man could turn any pessimist into an optimist. His speech is so inspiring that it convinced me that Obama could save the world. I had struggled between Hillary and Obama, as I thought they were both respectable and experienced candidates. Obama's speech convinces me that I made the right choice. I know that one man cannot fix every problem in America magically overnight, but I am convinced that Obama, can at least help America get back on its feet and headed back in the right direction. When the speech is over, I realize I have not looked in the mirror. When I do, I nearly have a heart attack. My face is in fact one that you might find in Whoville. My cheeks are so puffed out and swollen, I could have been mistaken for a chipmunk about to hibernate. There are two positives though. The first is that my upper lip in now full enough to balance out my lower lip, and I wonder (with some false hope) if maybe my oral surgeon injected some restlyane without my knowledge. The second is that I have no bruising, which is a miracle considering how fair I am...thanks Western European heritage. My mother has decided to document my face as it swells and deflates. After taking our daily photograph, I turn on the movie I didn't finish last night. I turn on my laptop, which has recently returned from the dead, and I find a message from my friend Julia, who is also at home recovering from a back injury. Throughout the day, we have a lovely conversation about our recoveries, and our love for Obama. I remain lazy for most of the day, but several things happen in between: I receive a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from my mom's sister and her family in Arizona. I promptly place them on my bedside table and my room immediately brightens up. My nose also begins to bleed, which is expected to continue for a few days. This is difficult at first, because not only am I not allowed to blow my nose for six weeks, but I am also prohibited from sneezing through my nose, and must do so throught my nose. I quickly work around clearing my nose without blowing my nose or using my finger. Thank God for saline spray! My good day is topped off the tradition my father and I have of watching The Soup every Friday night. It is a show that basically pokes fun at all the ridiculously idiotic stuff on television, formerly known as Talk Soup with Greg Kinnear. I suggest everybody watch the The Soup Friday nights at 10 on E! Fun Fact: I am apparently related to the host, Joel McHale. According to my grandmother (whose maiden name is McHale) all McHales are related. Go figure.