CAPITOL LETTERS

1) Don’t flatter yourself. Rob Eissler and Bryan Hughes are JUST THAT NICE to everyone.

2) The terms “suspend all necessary rules,” “point of personal privilege” and “motion to vacate” also work well in everyday life. Recognizing (or refusing to recognize) your friends, family members and colleagues to speak is also great fun.

3) You’d better take out a loan to fund your meals at the Capitol Grill. It’s pretty much the price equivalent of lunching at the Driskill. And there are so many lawmakers in line on fro-yo Thursdays that they risk breaking quorum.

4) There’s nothing more rewarding than realizing, one day in early May, that you’re no longer winded walking up a giant flight of stairs. Particularly since you haven’t seen the inside of your gym since February.

5) You ARE allowed to use that ladies restroom behind the House chamber – and boy is it nice. Get comfortable, enjoy the potpourri, and you can hang out until you hear your bill called over the loudspeaker. If you pick up your feet, you might also witness a catfight.

6) No you may NOT open the chamber doors without the Incredible Hulk-like strength and quick reflexes of the door sergeants. Believe me, it takes a skill set you don’t have.

7) Eating all of your meals standing up is not good for your digestion. And Altoids and Hershey Kisses don’t count as lunch – unless you eat enough of them.

8) Flats, not heels.

9) Making eye contact with a lawmaker determined NOT to make eye contact with you is an acquired skill, but you’ll get it.

And now that I’ve reached my entire sense of humor quota for the day, I’ll leave you with a few other final thoughts/observations on the session.

Passing a bill is damn near impossible.
I guess somewhere in my naïve mind, I believed that if a bill was good, it would pass. And if a bill was bad, well, it wouldn’t. Boy was I off the mark. Who knew how easy it was for a single person to derail good legislation – for something as minor as the author’s vote against their own measure? Who knew good bills could get weighed down with so many terrible amendments that they became unrecognizable? Who knew the clock could simply run out on a perfectly uncontested measure – leaving important business dangling for another two years, at least? (OK, OK, you probably did. But bear with me). Conversely, lawmakers work so hard all session to keep bad bills from becoming law. But then in the final days of the session, when they’re all freaking out about getting their own bills through, and making sure all of their top priorities are accounted for, bad things slip through. Ridiculous, unnecessary amendments are tacked onto clear-cut measures. And bad bills sometimes pass simply because lawmakers are tired of arguing over them.

Lawmakers work ridiculously hard.
Yeah, yeah, they’re only in session for six months every two years, and yeah, yeah, they’ve got aides, and chiefs of staff, and spokespeople. But let me tell you, these people are NOT slackers. I’m tired and cranky because I spent a lot of very late nights in the Capitol over the last couple of weeks. These people have been spending very late nights and very early mornings in the Capitol since February – easily 16 and 18 hour days – writing and passing bills and taking testimony in committees and running their offices. You’ll see lawmakers who, after a day spent fighting to get their own bill passed, will have carefully conceived questions or concerns about dozens of other bills that come up that day – meaning they, or someone who works for them, are doing ridiculous amounts of homework. The energy level in the chambers at the end of a long day is insane – Red Bull insane. And some of these folks, are, well, over the hill. I try to imagine my own grandparents (heck, even my parents!) sitting in the chamber from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., then running emotional committee meetings that last until 4 a.m., then dashing home for a quick shower before coming back again at 9. And it just isn’t feasible.

I have a love/hate relationship with democracy.
And, by default, with Robert Talton, Jim Dunnam and Lon Burnam.
I’ll admit to being the first one who rolls her eyes and clenches her fists when ANOTHER point of order is raised, when ANOTHER round of parliamentary inquiries is launched, when ANOTHER bill most of the chamber supports is killed on a teeny tiny technicality. I’ll admit to biting my tongue not to scream “VOTE” when Pete Gallego heads to the back mic for the 115th time in one day. Particularly when I’m a couple of hours behind Karen Brooks on the party wagon.
But even this, I confess, is democracy at work. And when it works, when careful, impassioned arguments + smart, careful decisions = good policy, it’s a pretty beautiful thing. And no, Christy, I’m not drinking the Kool-aid. That was Karen too.

For those of you who have been reading these posts all session, I've got a few necessary parting words.

The "bouncy blond TV reporters" are now (miraculously) my great, great friends. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
And Dewhurst's tan: it's real. That's what you get when your Lieutenant Governor doubles as a cowboy.