OK, just one more post, then I'll shut up about Obama. (P.S. That was a lie.)

What have you been doing with yourself in the post-election emotional crash? Buying commemorative plates and then shaking your head proudly at our new president's "kind eyes" and your own cleverness for somehow scoring this 24-carat-plated masterpiece? Me too. Of course you have. It's the American way. Soon enough the nation's curios will be stuffed silly with these heirlooms.

When you're done insuring your children's retirements with these masterpieces, may I kindly suggest you buy yourself one of these posters? It's from this infinitely clever and talented Brooklyn (where else?) artist Patrick Moberg.

Let's hope it up, y'all.

Last year about this time I worked with the Obama campaign in Harlem, registering voters, getting the word out, confounding people by my not being there for Hillary. So Tuesday I went back. I just wanted to share a few of my inauguration pictures from Harlem.

(And yes, my favorite moment was when Obama paused when John Roberts tripped him up and the man behind me yelled, "Take yo' time, playa!")

Obama poster Bloutout™

Feeling a wee bit too productive at work because of the inauguration coming atcha? Have an excess of Hope and Change to burn off as we bid Bush ado? Have you met: Obaniconme?

Not since the great personalized M&M debacle have I wasted this much time customizing something for friends and family.

Let's meet Kate's supporting players!


The Kosher Cupcake I used to babysit.


Here she is testing out my glasses.


KC and another baby friend enjoying a snack.


My brother modeling his second-favorite Christmas present after the blanket "so soft it makes me wish I had polio."


My mom, looking like a dame from a noir film.


My dad, showing off my parents' comically oversized remote.


Hey, and speaking of things that are comically oversized, it's the previously discussed pink bunny pants...


...which - I wasn't exaggerating - really were big enough for my sister and me.