If I had to choose today …

… my candidate would be John Edwards. It isn't that I don't care about Iran, Iraq and Korea, because I do. But the other Democratic candidates have allowed foreign affairs to suck all the oxygen out of the debate. Oh, every once in a while we hear about health care and immigration reform, but mostly it's Iraq, Iraq, Iraq.

John Edwards keeps revisiting his "two Americas" theme and reminding us of our responsibility to one another. I especially like his idea about encouraging grocery stores to do business in low-income areas. I recently saw a story on our local PBS station about inner city kids and obesity. There are neighborhoods in Chicago that don't have real grocery stores, just convenience stores with aisle after aisle of chips and prepackaged cupcakes and refrigerator cases filled with frozen pizza. What produce they carry is very expensive and not exactly as fresh as it might be.

Edwards is doing what I believe a statesman should do -- he's using the system to amplify the voices of those we don't always hear.

Of course, when I look at the Democratic field, I am pleased and proud. Our side looks like America -- with a woman, a Black and a Hispanic all still viable candidates. No matter which one my Party nominates, I will be comfortable with my choice next November.

I hate it when this happens

My depression ebbs and flows. When I'm sad, it's a strong emotion, leaving me feeling like this lighthouse: isolated, irrelevant, and with few resources to help me stand up to the powerful forces of nature. Then it passes, and I feel like slapping myself. "What's with the self pity, Gal? This is, after all, YOUR life! If you don't like it, change it!" Of course, that healthy helping self loathing doesn't necessarily help, either.

Today I did do something productive, which gave me some respite from the "pushmi-pullu/I'm so blue-stop whining" whiplash. I took 4 pullovers, 2 purses, a blanket and a dozen plastic hangars over to the Goodwill store. It was not only a good deed, it freed up a little room in my armoire. Now I'm going to FINALLY hem those black slacks.

In addition to distracting myself from my whiny, slothful existence, I should also try some more positive self talk. This is not real, it's hormones. My life is fine. I have a job I'm good at, my finances are in decent shape, I still have my mom, my incredibly adorable cats are healthy, I've got a lot of diverse friends in my life … and my period is almost over.

Now where's that needle and thread?