Day four of this disgusting heat wave presses on, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I've been a virtual hermit this entire time. I cannot stand excessive heat and humidity. And despite blasting the AC 24/7, during the height of the heat I can't get my little ranch house cooler than 74 degrees. There are likely three reasons for this: A) poor insulation in the laundry room; B) no attic fan; and C) the big front window was the only one not upgraded by the previous owner - in fact, the living room feels 10 degrees hotter than anywhere else in the house!

Meanwhile, our front lawn looks disturbingly like the one from AQUA TEEN HUNGER FORCE. Even if it wasn't an oven outside, I'm seriously allergic to grass and am not supposed to mow it (seriously, the mere smell of fresh-cut grass turns my face puffy and red!). Because of Joe's odd work schedule, he can only cut the grass on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Last week it poured rain like a monsoon, and then by Saturday the heat wave had rolled in. Only now we're so ashamed of the lawn he's going to brave the 100+ degree heat index and take one for the team. Such the mensch, he is.

There's so much going on in my life right now that I can't/don't feel comfortable with writing about yet, but one major thing that's been on my mind is the end of Hillary Clinton's presidential bid. I have this friend, Emmett, with whom I routinely argue about the election. He's an Obama man, largely because he doesn't believe in dynasty politics. Emmett, like most Obama supporters, has been calling for Clinton to officially drop out for months now. Of course, I'm guessing Emmett's way is probably more abrasive, as he likes to throw around words like "stupid" - usually in connection with some statistic I've cited - and has made the claim that Obama could choose an inanimate object as his running mate and still clean the floor with McCain. In fact, sometimes he's so abrasive that I end our "friendly" debates with expletives and then ask Joe, "Why do I even bother?" (Apparenly I am a sadist, but that's another post entirely.)

Anyway, I bring up Emmett because I now owe him a homemade baked good, as I was convinced that Obama wouldn't end up the democratic nominee. I really thought that Clinton would pull it out in the end.

Then again, I hadn't counted on the misogynistic news coverage, or the blatant favoratism of Howard Dean, or - most troubling - this pervasive feeling that if you're not for Obama, you must be a racist. There was even this story on one of the news channels - a reporter had gone into a predominantly black high school to see the teens' reaction to the possibility that there could be a black president, and one of the kids said, "You're not allowed to be for Hillary here. If you're for Hillary, they call you a racist." That's so insulting on so many different levels. For one thing, it reduces Obama's entire candidacy to the color of his skin. For another, it underscores this other erroneous belief that Clinton's supporters are only voting for her because she's a woman.

I know this has been hashed and rehashed a thousand times, and I doubt I'm adding anything new to the conversation, so I'll leave it at that.

The thing that got me was Hillary's "exit" speech on Saturday and the media's reaction to it. (If you haven't taken the time to watch it, at least read a transcript, which can be found here.) So I'm watching the speech with Joe, and I'm getting very emotional and teary eyed, and I'm shocked when a vocal throng of her supporters boos at her request to help elect Obama, and it's all very overwhelming and surreal and then she says these words:

Now, on a personal note, when I was asked what it means to be a woman running for president, I always gave the same answer, that I was proud to be running as a woman, but I was running because I thought I'd be the best president. But...

But I am a woman and, like millions of women, I know there are still barriers and biases out there, often unconscious, and I want to build an America that respects and embraces the potential of every last one of us.

I ran as a daughter who benefited from opportunities my mother never dreamed of. I ran as a mother who worries about my daughter's future and a mother who wants to leave all children brighter tomorrows.

To build that future I see, we must make sure that women and men alike understand the struggles of their grandmothers and their mothers, and that women enjoy equal opportunities, equal pay, and equal respect.

Let us ... Let us resolve and work toward achieving very simple propositions: There are no acceptable limits, and there are no acceptable prejudices in the 21st century in our country.

You can be so proud that, from now on, it will be unremarkable for a woman to win primary state victories ... unremarkable to have a woman in a close race to be our nominee, unremarkable to think that a woman can be the president of the United States. And that is truly remarkable, my friends.

To those who are disappointed that we couldn't go all of the way, especially the young people who put so much into this campaign, it would break my heart if, in falling short of my goal, I in any way discouraged any of you from pursuing yours.

Always aim high, work hard and care deeply about what you believe in. And, when you stumble, keep faith. And, when you're knocked down, get right back up and never listen to anyone who says you can't or shouldn't go on.

As we gather here today in this historic, magnificent building, the 50th woman to leave this Earth is orbiting overhead. If we can blast 50 women into space, we will someday launch a woman into the White House.

Although we weren't able to shatter that highest, hardest glass ceiling this time, thanks to you, it's got about 18 million cracks in it ... and the light is shining through like never before, filling us all with the hope and the sure knowledge that the path will be a little easier next time.

And by this time, I'm pretty much sobbing, and Joe's looking at me like I've lost my mind. Did I support Hillary Clinton because she is a woman? No, I supported her because I believed she was the best person for the job. But does it break my heart to see the first viable woman presidential candidate step down? God, does it ever. And if the situation was reversed - if on Saturday we'd watched the first viable African American presidential candidate step down - I believe there would be a lot more public mourning, and a lot more time and press coverage memorializing the loss.

Instead, most of the newspaper reports about Clinton's speech and the suspension of her campaign began with phrases like "finally ended her desperate bid." Even this piece by the New York Times seemed biased and unnecessarily harsh. What's worse is the lack of respect that some hardcore Obama supporters are displaying in the wake of her concession. Where's the graciousness in that? I haven't even bothered to check in with Emmett, bracing myself for the kind of gloating that makes me wonder why we're friends to begin with.

I'm a Democrat, and come November, it is likely that I will be casting my vote for Barack Obama. But I'll do so with a heavy heart, because I do not believe the best candidate got the nomination. I believe that the most charming, most inspiring, most likeable candidate got the nomination, and for the sake of our country I hope he can parlay that into a win.

But if he can't - if John McCain takes the White House - I know who's got my vote in 2012.