10 Ways I Plan on Reacting to the Outcome of the Presidential Election

Posted at 5:00 AM Nov 04, 2008

By Bonnie Ruberg

I don't know about you, fellow dolls, but I'm holding my breath from this very moment to the second they announce the next President of the United States this evening. You won't survive that long without oxygen, you say. It's OK, since I'll pass out before I can actually die, and then I won't have to be conscious for the horrible, stressful, "Oh my God just be over already!" hours that make up Election Day.

Once I wake up, of course, there will have to be an answer... eventually. Obama or McCain. McCain or Obama. I'm getting worried just thinking about it. But at least I know, whatever the outcome of this election, I'll have a plan. Here are 10 ways I'll react once I get the official news -- depending, of course, on which candidate has been elected.

10. Hugging the semi-strangers who live in my apartment building (Obama)

It's true, I barely know them, and the tall, bald one across the hall often comes to the door naked, but I'm gonna need to hug just about everybody I see if that-which-I-haven't-wanted-to-jinx for the last however many months becomes reality.

9. Staring longingly North toward the Canadian border (McCain)

I know it's far, far away, but I still may be tempted to steal a car and make a mad dash for Canada; land of funny accents, health care, and sanity.

8. Sleeping the long, deep sleep of relief (Obama)

I honestly can't quite imagine what it would be like to know, not just hope, that for the next four years America will be led by a competent intellectual. It's possible that all the tension of the last eight years will fall out of my body and I'll actually be a calm, contented person who sleeps at night like a baby.

7. Weighing the pros and cons of living in Scandinavia (McCain)

Pro: it's almost Socialist. Con: it's cold. Pro: they have awesome Christmas markets full of spicy alcohol. Con: their language is strange.

6. Calling up my European friends and gloating (Obama)

Having lived in Ireland and then France, I'm used to being the American that has to explain to the collective continent of Europe that, no, not all of us love Bush. Now it's my turn to be awesome and condescending.