On a conference call yesterday, Howard Wolfson apparently said that Obama could win in November, but Clinton will win. You can read about it here.

But unless Howard Wolfson has a kickass crystal ball hidden in his bat cave, he, like rest of us, has to wait a few months to know definitively who will win. His statement is all the more ridiculous for the fact that Clinton can't win in November if she isn't the nominee.

Perhaps this is a fact that escapes them or perhaps they are hiding in the trees and hoping the rest of us don't see the forest. Whichever it is, the way they turn simple words into excruciating mintiae is exhausting.

Could vs. will.

Is vs. is.

Campaign timeline vs. the word I can't bring myself to type (you know the one).

I'm so weary of Hillary Clinton and her campaign. Since sometime around February, I've been playing a little game with myself. I like to call it "delay your gratification."

I point to a Tuesday at some point in the near future and tell myself after that day, she'll finally realize she can't win and she'll stop. Only the Tuesdays keep coming and the delegate pool keeps shrinking. But instead of acknowledging reality, she keeps arguing that reality has changed. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that a certain portion of the population falls for it. After all, I do live the the country that (sort of) elected George W. Bush twice.

But as time marches on, I'm starting to lose hope that I'll ever feel the gratification that will come with Clinton standing in front of a podium in a room full of her supporters and graciously saying, "We fought a good fight and we came close, but the American people have made their choice."

Instead, I fear I might have to deal with her forever chanting, "I will win, I will win, I will win." 

That's a thought that keeps me up at night. 

Women are angry. It’s a familiar refrain these days. They’re forming groups, they’re appearing on news networks, they’re writing blogs, they’re making threats, and boy are they pissed.

I’m one of them. I’m an angry, angry woman. If I were my grandmother, I’d even say that I’m so angry I could just spit. Because I’m me, I use language that is largely not appropriate to put in writing.

I’ve read all about why women are angry: Hillary Clinton is being denied the Democratic nomination by a thief who ran a better campaign and won more contests then she did. The nerve of that guy. He follows the rules designed by the party elite and still manages to beat the ultimate insider. What a jerk.

If those angry women have a valid point, it is much too sophisticated for me to understand, especially after I supposedly drank some Kool-Aid and joined a cult because of pretty words. But I’m still angry.

Wanna know why?

I’m angry because I’m a 38-year old, white feminist and I’m being told by a bunch of older, whiter feminists why I’m angry. See, when those women say that women are angry, they carry the mantle of woman as if it’s some monolithic mass for which they are the anointed spokeswomen.

In reality, they are speaking for themselves and hijacking the rest of us without acknowledging that some of us might look, act, and feel differently. It’s an old complaint within the feminist movement: white, middle-class feminists ignore everybody else’s experience.

Since my experience as a woman has been thoroughly white and thoroughly middle class, I could sympathize with the complaint but I’d never felt the impact of being marginalized by it. Until now. And boy does it piss me off.

These women have the right to their own experience. They can be mad about whatever they want to be mad about. They can say whatever they want and form their groups and vote for whomever they choose in the general election (although voting for John McCain would be the ultimate in short-sighted, sore loser-ness: can we all say buh-bye to Roe vs. Wade?) But what they can’t do is speak for me.

I know in politics the strategists like to slice and dice the population into convenient little demographic groups. That’s all well and good when your campaign only has to appeal to 51% of any given group to be able to declare that you’re winning among women or African Americans or working class whites or whatever. But to suggest that one person in a group can speak for and to the experience of every member of that group is as damaging as it is ridiculous. Nobody fits so neatly into a box.

So here’s my suggestion to the Clinton supporters who keep talking about why women are so angry. Leave me out of it. You can use my name if you want to: Women except for Jenn in Indiana are angry that Hillary Clinton is losing.

I’m angry, but it isn’t because “they” are calling for Clinton to exit the race. Nothing would make me less angry than if she listened to them.

Women are angry. It’s a familiar refrain these days. They’re forming groups, they’re appearing on news networks, they’re writing blogs, they’re making threats, and wow are they mad.