Ah, the stench of Election Day perspiration. My armpits, they are still drying. Gray and I were up at the crack of dawn yesterday, fumbling around for keys and utility bills, making the coffee, putting the coffee in transport-ready cups, then heading out the door to our precinct polling place. I always forget how exciting Election Day is for me, the anticipation, the anxiety, the excitement of the television coverage (and the dumbness of said television coverage).
I’m always reminded to be very thankful that I live in a place where my opinion “matters”, at least to the extent that I can walk into the gymnasium at the community center, stand in line, get a ballot, and fill in all the circles with the names of whomever I want. No one gives me a test to determine if I’ve done my research and am qualified to make an educated decision regarding the future of this great (crumbling) land. No one forces me to vote a certain way; no one is allowed to intimidate me at the polls. I could walk in there and vote for the guy with the best ass, or the guy with the best tie, or the guy with the best Internet porn. (They really should find some sordid tape of these guys and stick it on You Tube already. Come on, you’re telling me Obama doesn’t have some naughty little secrets? I don’t buy it.) I am free to vote, or not to vote, or close my eyes and randomly select any name on the ballot. Such is the greatness of the Democratic process.
Of course, I made my decision over endless months of research and observation, and fantasizing about making out with Sarah Palin on the desk in the Oval Office whilst Obama and McCain stand by and watch, and determining which of their reactions was most becoming of the next president. (Obama had a bigger boner, but McCain stood at attention for, like, 4 hours. Damn!)
Minnesota does have same-day voter registration, thankfully, because Gray and I are kind of lax about updating our driver’s licenses. When you move every 3 minutes, it’s kind of tough to keep up with all the red tape. We updated our voter registration at the state fair, but when I went to caucus over the summer, my information had not been given to the precinct. Mild panic attack. Fortunately, we were both on the list of registered voters, rendering our hastily pocketed electricity bill redundant.
The lines were substantially longer than they had been when I caucused (when there was no one in the gym but myself and the poll workers), but the whole process only took about 30 minutes. That was good, because I seriously had to poop and I didn’t want to use the miniature toilets built for small children. No telling if the water pressure would have been sufficient to handle my deposit. Anyhow, we didn’t have to wait long, just in and out and on our way home. It felt amazing! (The afterglow of voting, not the pooping – although that wasn’t half bad either.)
So now here we are, post-Election Day, and I’m wondering about the future. Like, will our new leader take the reins and make some changes? Will our economy continue to decline? But most importantly, will I be near a toilet the next time I gotta go?
