It's possible the person most relieved about John McCain's loss is actually Cindy McCain. Monday night, during McCain's rally in Las Vegas, NV, Cindy stood behind her husband wearing a candy apple red turtleneck and matching jacket. Her hair was perfectly upswept into a fancy half-pony. Despite her effort, I couldn't help but notice how haggard Cindy seemed. Her jacket hung off her twiggy frame like a deflated balloon. Her smile was taut and her eyes seemed disconnected. Each time John McCain promised, "We will win tomorrow!" I swear Cindy's shoulders slumped a little further. Maybe it was exhaustion from a year and a half of campaigning. Maybe she was resigning herself to defeat. Or perhaps she was plagued by the possibility of winning.

The McCains haven't lived under the same roof in twenty years. Since John McCain announced his bid in April 2007, the couple have spent more time together campaigning than they have during most of their 28-year marriage. If McCain won, Cindy would have to move into the White House and spend at least four years living with her husband. She'd have had to wake up to his cauliflower face every morning and weather his stormy temper and occasional name calling (although, now she'd have the honor of being the First Cunt). She'd be moving back to the city where she had been a social outcast, the odd girl out. Not even John McCain's aides had wanted Cindy at their lunch table. She was the Weinerdog of Washington.

If Cindy felt any pain on the inside, she compensated by looking painstakingly dignified on the outside, with prom-perfect hair, heavy makeup and expensive colorful suits. Many people believe Cindy McCain looked "evil" and "icy." I think Cindy looked like a trapped animal, but one too lost and possibly too vain to chew off her own leg. When she spoke, it surprised me how soft her voice sounded in contradiction to her severe appearance. Unlike her outspoken and energetic counterpart Michelle Obama, Cindy avoided public appearances as much as possible. However, one of the few times she sought attention was after an appearance by the McCains on The View. Joy and Whoopi had pecked at John McCain for his campaign ads and interpretation of the constitution. Cindy bit back at the hosts, saying they "picked our bones clean." She seemed hurt that the ladies ganged up on her husband and saw their questioning as a personal attack. Though perhaps a small part of Cindy was actually jealous of the women on The View. However brassy and irritating they may be, the hosts freely express their opinions. They talk back to people and they rarely wear turtlenecks or pantsuits. No one shuts them up or calls them the c-word (at least not to their faces).

I suspect Cindy is relieved to return to Phoenix and kiss her husband goodbye as he heads back to Washington. She can resume caring for Bridget (the second most relieved person that John McCain lost), riding her horses and occasionally seeing John on weekends. For the first time in a year and a half, Cindy McCain will be alone again. The thought might bring a real smile to her face.