Negative Campaigning in Iowa Leads to UN-dorsement

We all know the tradition adage that if people claim they're not going to vote for you because of too many phone calls, or your negative campaigning, they weren't going to vote for you anyway. Well, the Des Moines Register is putting it's muscle where it's mouth is, revoking it's endorsement of City Council candidate Chris Diebel for sending "unfair and inaccurate" mailers about his opponents involvement on a local financing issue.

For these reasons, we can no longer support Chris Diebel for the Des Moines City Council. Withdrawing an endorsement after the fact is unusual for the Register, but given Diebel’s reckless and inaccurate campaign ads, we have no choice.

Serving as an elected official requires good judgment based on a careful and fair-minded review of the facts. Diebel has shown poor judgment by inaccurately attacking his opponent without offering a better solution. It is especially disappointing to see the personal attacks that infect national politics trickle down to a nonpartisan municipal election.

This is the first time I've heard of an endorsement being revoked by a major newspaper for direct mail content. Have you? Read the whole article here.

Organizer Store: The Ultimate GOTV Care Package

I have had some kickass interns, so it was no surprise when an intern at the firm where I am working part-time told me she was putting together a GOTV care package for her boyfriend and wanted my suggestions. Some of my suggestions were summarily rejected (EVERYONE likes scented candles! It's not a gender thing!) and some were deemed inappropriate (A picture of your butt. WHAT? I know what campaign boys like.) She also filled it with a bunch of inside jokey things which you should totally include. In addition to that, here is what we came up with together to go into a great GOTV care package.

Wisp toothbrush. Let me be upfront with you guys, a lot of my picks were hygiene based. Looking back on my days as an organizer,and dating organizers, I remember this being a big GOTV need.

Cookies! Nothing makes you feel more taken care of than homemade baked goods, even if they were homemade by someone else. Read more about my favorite GOTV tradition of cookie sending here.

Funderwear! GOTV means not so much time for laundry. Plus, who doesn't want patriotic underwear? By the way I could not find a good picture of boxer shorts with Democratic donkeys on them so there might be an opportunity there.

Starbucks Via. You could substitute this for some sugar-free Red Bull, but I'm personally a coffee drinker. Late nights. Caffeine. 'Nuff said.

Stress ball. So apparently elephant stress balls are to promote Republican candidates, which I don't get. You're literally crushing them. But since I can see why you wouldn't want that sitting around your office, I found the example above.

Stress Relief Candles! Ha! It's my blog. I put what I want.


Happy GOTV to you and yours!

Campaign Love and Mine,
Nancy

To Washington On My 29th Birthday

Over the course of my seven years in politics, I've given a number of very legitimate reasons for not to wanting to move to DC.

When it comes to living on the East Coast, New York has DC beat in nearly every facet: food, theater, diversity, pop culture and everything in between. Even growing up as a New York City suburbanite and then a campaign nomad, I always imagined myself packing it in and moving to Manhattan. As John Updike famously said, "The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding."

In addition, I've never shared the desire that many of my friends have to work where the sausage gets made. I got into politics as a fluke and stayed in because of the satisfaction I get out of empowering people. "Those on Capitol Hill," I would say to the approval of my Midwestern and Southern campaign constituents, "are empowered enough." Campaigns are my wheelhouse. I'm out of my element when it comes to any discussion of what happens on the hill.

There are other personal reasons I've never wanted to live in our nation's capitol. For one, the place is a veritable exboyfriend convention. I went down for the inauguration last January and ran into four people I've dated over the course of three events. DC is also less than ideal for someone who is as directionally challenged as I am. In what Earthly realm does New Jersey intersect with Louisiana? Then there are the complaints that everyone has about DC: People in DC work all the time, which is true; all anyone talks about is politics; everyone who's ever gotten a Congressman his coffee think he's Fareed Zakaria.

The thing is, the further away I get from campaigns, the more I miss talking about work all the time and being surrounded by people who get where I'm coming from. I even made a blog out of it. Besides the older my friends and I get, the more humility my social set seems to have about our livelihoods as we realize that for all of us, politicos, lawyers, and doctors alike, the brass ring will forever be a moving target. And so in my old age (I turn 29 next week) I find myself for the first time with my sights set on Washington, sending flurries of networking emails, braving the traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike and posting Facebook inquiries about DC Yoga Studios and where to find the best Bloody Mary, in an effort to convince myself that DC is livable.

And old age it is. When I left for grad school I wrote a Dear John letter explaining that while campaigns had meant the world to me, it was time to grow up and be an adult. I was intimidated, terrified really. A lease? An apartment? Living in the same place for two years? Leaving campaigns meant relinquishing my best excuses as to why my life wasn't going the way I wanted it to. Campaigns left little time for diet and exercise, or relationships, or most importantly introspection. Even scarier than the prospect of leaving campaigns for adulthood was the prospect that it wouldn't take. I knew that it was possible I would come out of those two years saying to campaigns, "it's not you, it's me." What if I couldn't be happy without the excitement of campaign life? What if I learned I had to choose between the work that has defined my life and having a life at all? In 2011 I wrote:

I looked around, thought about what I want in my life and realized that,for me, the campaign lifestyle wasn't sustainable. I'm proud that I had the courage and the wisdom to make that decision but that doesn't mean there's nothing to mourn.

I could say maybe in a couple years, who knows what will happen, but I don't want to lead myself on. In three years we both will have changed so much we'll barely recognize each other. When I do become involved again, it will be in a totally different capacity. I'm hoping we'll still be friends, but that's gonna be hard without falling back in.

In many tangible ways, I am not the adult I had hoped I would be by the time I finished grad school. I don't have a job, I'm single, if anything I weigh more than I did when I matriculated. Yet I have to tell you I have never felt like more of a grown-up.

And that leads me to the real reason I never wanted to move to DC. It wasn't the nightlife, or the (lower case p) politics or the exboyfriends. Deep down, part of me always suspected that my former coworkers who moved to Washington were leading lives of quiet desperation, spending their days at happy hours and hiking in Virginia and fantasy football to fill the void left by campaigns. You see, the true campaign person secretly believes that people doing anything else have to be, in some sense, kidding. Grad school felt like beginning adulthood, but DC felt like buying a house in the suburbs. One of my favorite comedians, Mike Birbiglia, has this line about how he didn't want to get married until he was sure nothing else good could happen in his life, and that's how I felt about DC. Just this great resignation.

Mike Birbiglia is married now and as far as I can tell good things continue to happen to him. He had a feature film produced last year. Maybe the same forces that drive men who are commitment-phobes in their 20's to get married in their 30's are what lead me to lustfully skim DC apartments on Craigslist at 29. What I know now that I didn't know two years ago is that no one really feels like an adult all of the time. (To wit, I recently walked in on my mother dressing a barbie doll as Miley Cyrus whining, "IT DOESN'T LOOK REEAAAAL.") That said, I've noticed that valuing flexibility and fervor over stability and self-care no longer feels authentic to me. Moreover, admitting that no longer feels like a betrayal. I still don't feel ready to write the eulogy on my sense of adventure, but I don't need to wear it on my sleeve to know that it's there. I can change what I want without changing who I am. After all, I could live alone on a mountain top, but I would always be a campaign person.

And that is the most valuable thing I could have gotten from these past two years: not a boyfriend, or a job, or a leaner midsection, but the confidence and sense of self to have none of those things, to be completely out of my element, and to know that I will be okay. I've had jobs and boyfriends and a waist before and I have the tools to get them again. So maybe stability is my next big adventure. Maybe it's something else. But if all goes according to plan, it may just be in DC.*



































*Unless I get the one job I am applying to in New York.

How I Feel About the Rielle Hunter Apology Post

One time, about 2 years ago, a girl who had been terrible to me in High School sent me a Facebook message asking if we could be friends. I hadn't given serious thought to this person in years, even when we interacted at a friend's wedding, but I still thought, "No. No we can't be friends." It wasn't because I hate her or wish ill upon her. Quite the opposite. This woman has had some very serious physical and emotional challenges in her life and if anything I felt bad for her. I just didn't need her being relevant to my life. Every interaction I had had with her was negative and thinking of her reminded me of being in a very stressful and scary emotional space. So I wish you well, but no thanks.

That's the closest I can come to explaining how I feel about today's HuffPo apology from Rielle Hunter, mistress to my former candidate John Edwards--an article that is sure to dominate my inbox for the next 24 hours. Finding out the tabloid rumors about John Edwards were true was one of the defining and most disillusioning moments of my career. I don't blame you, but I don't want to hear from you. Good luck selling your book. Now go away.

How to Make a Placard Hat

Halloween is almost upon us and that means it's time for everyone's favorite costume, the sexy yardsign. This year I thought I'd add a new addition to the costume, the placard hat. Good for GOTV, Halloween or really any occasion this is by far my favorite use of the legless yardsign. Modeled below by intern to the stars, Captain Jack Sterne of the SS Stringer.

I did not have a placard with me so I recycled this NYC Recycles Poster. How To:

Step 1: Place your placard length-wise in front of you. (Some lengths of placards work better for this project than others.)

Step 2: Fold your placard in half.

Step 3: Starting from the creased edge, fold down the corners of your placard until they meet in the middle leaving about 2" (or to taste) for the brim. Those are my toes.

Step 4: Fold up the remaining surface of the placard so as to secure the folded triangles and create a nice little brim. Optional: Secure your brim in place using campaign stickers, like Capt. Jack above.

Step 5: Impress your friends and coworkers with your fashiony fashion sense.

Sexist, Horrible Hillary Buttons

Because it's a day that ends in Y, something terrible and sexist happened in the news. See the above buttons at the California Republican Convention. The "joke" is not in any way new, but my outrage is renewed because SERIOUSLY WHAT YEAR IS IT? What does a woman have to accomplish before she is no longer reduced to a (literal) piece of meat? Salon.com has the story. On the bright side, I had a dream that Hillary told me she was going to run last night. Let's hope this is all they've got.

Advocate From Where You Stand: Shutdown Edition

"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed Mike's wedding. Prepare to die."

Okay to be fair, I do not know the exact story as to how Mike and MaiLien wound up on the Colbert Report. But here is what I do know: Mike and MaiLien were scheduled to get married in DC this weekend at the Jefferson Memorial where they had their first date (Awww!!), but received a letter earlier this week informing them that due to the government shutdown they would not be able to access their venue. Then (I like to imagine) Michael used the superior organizing skills taught to him by yours truly and made his case to the public. Mike and MaiLien were on the Today Show and the Washington Post and eventually on the Colbert Report.

Michael was my organizer in Colorado in 2008 and Deputy Field Director for Claire McCaskill in 2012. I cannot stress how awesome and surreal it is to be in DC for a wedding, staying at your bro's house, turning on the TV and seeing the wedding taking place right then. On the other hand, knowing Michael it's also not surprising. He is pretty great and efficient at making things happen. Mazel Tov, Michael and MaiLien! Also excited to see the light of Michael's life (besides MaiLien) his redheaded nephew, who is featured prominently in the above video. Can't wait to celebrate with you tomorrow!