When do we get to inhale?

Random thoughts:

Tomorrow night at 7 pm, if Obama wins Virginia, we should be in good shape. If he loses this election, I believe that the voting machines are clearly being tampered with. Virginia's polls say 50% for Obama, 45% for McCain. I hope they're right.

Now that the show is over, I'm obsessing about the election and I don't want to have the television on, but I can't stop myself. Tonight and tomorrow night are going to be torturous and I just hope that we will have the results by midnight tomorrow. Two years of this is more than we can take. Even Obama doesn't know what state he's in. He said Ohio and he was in Florida. I'm sitting here nervously eating carrots, but I can tell you that today I went to the Bouchon Bakery in the Time Warner Center and had a chocolate "Ho-Ho." Which is their version of a real "Ho-Ho" and beyond delicious. It's better than going to the Market Cafe and eating their piece of chocolate cake, which weighs about eight pounds.

Okay, John King's got his map. Let me see what he says. Oh, he's talking about the potential scenario of McCain winning. I don't want to see this. It doesn't seem possible. Good. Oh, now they've got Palin on, time to turn off the sound. At the end of this election, the two women who have made me completely nuts are Palin and Hasselbeck. They are both attractive, I'll give them that...but not smart.

So... because I'm so exhausted from this weekend and I took a long walk in Central Park today and it's so beautiful, I came home and have been sitting on the couch. I watched Oprah and according to a poll, 40 million couples have unsatisfying sex lives, that's one in five couples. I think it's more. How do we improve it? Work at it. I'd rather Javier Bardem come over one night while Steve's out of town.

Oh....Obama's grandmother just died. That is very sad. I'm so sorry for him. Terrible. I can't believe she died a day before the election. Oh, he's crying. Well, I guess no one can say he's too unemotional.

Even in my office, the tension is so high. Someone mentioned in an email that there are phone banks at BAM (the Brooklyn Academy of Music) where people can make calls to talk to voters to support Obama. And someone else asked to be taken off the email list because she didn't want to have political discussions, just as the president of the company sent an email asking us to vote in a company wide poll. So...tomorrow's weekly meeting should be interesting. I may just go to BAM and make calls instead.

Okay, enough of my ramblings. I pray that tomorrow night at 7 pm Virginia goes for Obama and we can start inhaling again. And celebrating. Because this election and the state of this country is making us all crazy.

A Labor of Love...sort of

Early this morning I was reading a book that's a series of interviews with my therapist, Michael Eigen. The interviewer asked him, "Do you believe in God?" And Mike said something like: "Yes... and maybe I'm agnostic...and atheist."

Which is kind of how I feel about God...and about marriage (or any long-term relationship.)

Twenty-four years ago today, Labor Day, Steve and I went out on our first date. It was a blind date, arranged by our dear friend, Mona. I immediately liked the sound of his voice on the phone when we first spoke. I changed my clothes at least four times before he arrived. And the first date was brilliant, couldn't have been better. We went to see an obscure independent film, "Sugar Cane Alley," had dinner at a charming French restaurant "Le Cukoo," sat at the Bel Air Hotel's pool and couldn't stop talking. We had (and continue to have) similar values: both lifelong liberal Democrats, love movies, travel, books, good food - have somewhat different temperaments (I'm more extroverted, he's more of a loner). The date was so good that I was convinced we would get married.

The second date stunk. It was as if aliens had abducted Robin and Steve and sent in clones who were speaking Russian and Portuguese. (I think it was too much pressure.) The third date (initiated by me) was okay. Good. And that pretty much sums up the history of our marriage. Great highs, pretty bad lows, and lots of years of in between.

The highs: moving to NY from LA, buying our first home - a loft in SoHo, the birth of our beloved daughter, Zoe. Years of professional success which enabled Steve to travel around the world and me to write and stay at home for Zoe, a book published, readings of plays and screenplays with some of the finest actors in NYC, wonderful vacations, summer trips to California, our two amazing dogs, Lucy and Lola, a move to Brooklyn and a great neighborhood, Fort Greene.

The lows: selling the loft because of financial stresses, career slumps, boring jobs, a dog that has peed all over our home and has been known to eat shit (we still love her), loss of close friends and family (both our fathers), bouts of depression, individual therapy, family therapy and marriage counseling, close friends battling illnesses, and the long time care-taking of my mother, who has survived hospice twice, four different nursing homes and rehab.

The in betweens. Life.

Over these 24 years I've cheated on Steve many times. First, in the 80's with Harrison Ford, then Brad Pitt (thanks to Thelma and Louise), George Clooney, Colin Firth, that brief rendezvous at the Mercer Hotel with Al Gore, (which I wrote about a few days ago), and now Javier Bardem and I are an item.

But as of today, September 1, 2008, I still love Steve. And I can't stand him. And if he ever needed a kidney (God forbid) - I'd be first in line.