Do you think you would make a good president?
Absolutely not. One, I can’t be trusted in emergency situations. Hello, I freaked out when my sister went into premature labor. I seriously said to my brother-in-law, “Um, Pat, I don’t know what to do. OK. Thanks.” Did I mention our family vacation in the New York-Canada area when I was a teenager? I was sitting in the front seat with my parents, helping them navigate through New York. We stopped at the border crossing, where the guard looked at me, looked at my parents, and then looked at my two sisters. He looked me right in the eye and asked, “Where are you from?” Was this a trick question? I was born in South Korea but have lived in the United States all my life except for the first six months. “Where are you from?” Does the guard know where Plainview, Minn., is? Is that my answer? Does he want to know what state I’m from? What kind of question is this?
I finally said, “America?” Yes, America in the form of a question. Let me repeat this — I CAN’T BE COUNTED ON IN EMERGENCY SITUATIONS. If a serial killer is chasing a group of us, leave me behind. I’m only dead weight. Back to my story, the guard looked at me again and then looked at my parents. Then he waved us through the gates, and we were in Canada. My dad let out a huge sigh of relief. He was absolutely positive the guard would direct him to pull over to the side and other guards or inspectors would rummage through the car (a Suburban actually) and pop-up camper.
Would I like the nation’s future in my sweaty palms? No thank you. I would be the worst president EVER. Not to mention, I can’t be president of the United States because I wasn’t born in the United States — I was born in South Korea. That little tidbit from junior high crushed my presidential dreams — at that time, I thought I had excellent leadership and reflexive skills. Although numerous aides and associates would help me make informed decisions, I still wouldn’t want that responsibility. No thank you. I would probably have an anxiety attack every day.
Two, sure I can balance my checkbook but that doesn’t mean I balance a budget or solve other financial issues. Numbers are not my best friend. A huge spreadsheet of numbers will freak me out and just confuse my pretty little mind. If I had my way, my top three organizations would get the most funding (in no specific order): animal humane societies and shelters, military veteran groups, and adoption groups. I know a number of organizations are always in need of donations, but I would give myself a headache worrying about how much money each ogranization or group should get. A task not to be taken lightly — a task better left to the experts not a girl who loves to spend her paycheck on clothes, shoes, purses, and wallets.
Three, I don’t know the first thing about politics. Well, I know a little bit about politics but not much. And I have too many skeletons in my closest — nothing too dramatic in my mind. Will the opposition find all of my ex-boyfriends? I’m pretty sure most of my ex-boyfriends will not be kind when describing me. What about all the people who don’t like me? Yes, some people don’t like me. Hard to imagine, but apparently, I’m a pain in the butt to some people. Not only do I need to know everything about politics, but I need to know other subjects: global warming, the U.S. budget, taxes, etc. I like to think I’m a smart person, but I’m not an expert on everything. Learning too many subjects and topics might — once again — overwhelm my pretty little mind.
Four, I’m a jeans and T-shirt kind of gal. A sweatpants and T-shirt kind of gal. I would have to dress in fancy pants or skirts almost every day. No thank you. Business attire and high heels are not in my comfort zone. Yes, I would look super pretty and professional, but I would be uncomfortable and irritated. I am not a pretty person when I’m uncomfortable and irritated. Just ask Charlie. I love that man for putting up with me when I’m super hungry and irritated — I’m not the nicest person in the world at that moment. As much as I would love to have an amazing wardrobe and pretty dresses and ball gowns (a lot of social events to attend, right?), wearing the clothes is another ballgame.
Five, I hate the spotlight and criticism. I would like to think I can accept constructive criticism, but non-stop criticism from an entire nation is another story. The political cartoons. The news channels analyzing my every move. Hate groups planning my assassination because I’m a woman AND a minority. Ugh. No thank you. I was nervous on my wedding day — not because I had second thoughts about marrying Charlie — because everyone would be looking at ME when I walked down the church aisle with my dad. Yes, I looked like a princess in my wedding dress, but I don’t like people looking at me. Blech. I kind of like being a wallflower. Not to mention, when I get nervous or anxious, I have a tendency to throw up.
To answer the question: No, I would not make a good president. So, please please please don’t vote for me. My name is Jennifer Elliott, and I approve this message.