And we are still talking about Sad OWLs

The Media has yet to stop yammering about scorned ladies. New York has a cover feature about Elizabeth Edwards even though she went on Oprah like nine months ago and was like, "Yeah I hate his guts but we just built this sweet new house, so I'm gonna stay with him as long as he doesn't talk about HER and I'm resilient and did I mention I'm resilient?" Jenny Sanford, who I really want to star in a reality show called Sanford and Sons, appeared on many lists of very intriguing people, a field which seemed to include Spuds Mackenzie and my dentist.

Naturally, this annoys me. Neither of them got the prestige, honor, and attention because of what they did; they got it because of what happened to them. If J. San does run for public office, then I will salute her. If Elizabeth Edwards actually gets free mammograms going, I'll salute her too. But we're still glamorizing the wrong women for the wrong things. Witness Tiger Woods' wife. I do not need to know what brand of sunglasses she bought with Tiger's apology money or how she's losing weight.

I suppose all of this makes them relatable. Things happen to you in life sometimes: kids die, husbands cheat, taxes are raised, people are laid off, someone steps on your toe in the subway. It's a part of life, having no control over it. And it might be a small if meaningless sign of progress that we're no longer applauding them being silent. (I'm looking at you, Mrs. My Poll Numbers Skyrocketed After Monica But Redeemed Herself by Being Awesome In the Senate.) This cultural obsession with the filthy cheaters/saintly wives scenario is getting old. Maybe it's because these d-bag politicians keep providing us with ample material and in this unsteady time (really when is it ever steady?), seeing a nice, put-together white lady who gets some shit thrown at her and withstands it makes us feel better. I don't know. I guess we'll know progress when Alpha OWL Olympia Snowe gets caught sexting someone?

Either way, keep it in your pants Congress. You're boring me. Don't make me write another post in October.