I have voter fatigue and I haven't even voted yet. For months, I've known the candidate I've wanted to vote for. I am a decided voter. In fact, I even know how I want to vote on the propositions.
Can we all just get on with it? Can we all just get it over with? I wish I had a remote control that could just fast forward me to November 3rd, so I can see how it all ends.
If I was in Florida, I could have voted already. Maybe I should move to Florida.
Tuesday, November 2, 2004
I voted. There. Finally.
It was rough. The first question was a doosey. Who do I want to be president? Who do I want to rule the school? Christ, they couldn't have started with something easy---like a proposition for stem cell research. I mean, this is big. This is important. What if I freak out and check the wrong box? I don't know if I can deal with the stress. Be brave, Jen, be brave.
And I dotted the candidate I wanted. Woohoo! My voting precinct didn't have touch screens. We had paper ballots where you filled in the dots---kind of like the SATs.
Gosh I hope my choice wins. He seems like a really cool guy---and his wife seems nice. I like his celebrity supporters better than the other guy's celebs. I also think his economic plan is fiscally responsible and he will bring a level head to the foreign policy table.
Tuesday, November 2, 2004 (evening)
I sat in traffic while listening to NPR's election coverage. Every street I tried had traffic, traffic, TRAFFIC!
Because we're three hours behind the eastern states, we can hear about their polls closing in rush hour traffic. Cars, caRs, CARS! Is it possible to road rage in Westwood?
Red states, blue states One plate, two skates
Does anyone else remember the red scare? How about the cold war phrase---better dead than red? It sounds like there are a lot of red states on the electoral map.
Wednesday, November 3, 2004 (dream)
He won! Woohoo! The sun rises. It's a new day. It's a new world. It's a world of hope. It's a world where hamsters never have to be afraid.
Wednesday, November 3, 2004
shitshitshitshitshitSHIT! This is one messed up country. I can't deal. Maybe, I'll go to Egypt and live in De Nile.
Why-O, Why-O, Why-O Why did I ever leave Ohio?
Oh yeah. That's why.
I had a feeling he was not going to win because I pulled my lower back in the gym. Not anything major or debilitating. Just a really uncomfortable strained pain.
Sleeping last night was not fun either. Lots of shifting, rolling, replacing pillows. At one point, I was even on the carpet. Then I was too cold, then I was too warm.
This was not a new pain. I've pulled muscles before. However, my little body breaking down on Election day makes me pause to think not only of my own frailty and endurance but the frailty and endurance of our nation as well.
My Websters defines frailty as ‘the quality or condition of being frail; weakness; esp moral weakness'. Then, frail is defined as ‘easily broken, shattered, damaged, or destroyed; fragile, delicate'.
Then, endurance is defined as ‘the power of enduring, specif a) ability to last, continue, or remain b) ability to stand pain, distress, fatigue, etc; fortitude'.
Frailty and endurance are definitely opposites. Frailty has weakness in its definition, endurance has power in its definition. They are contradictory, but I place them side by side on this November 3rd when I talk about the election.
In the gym, I lift too much or stretch too far, and I feel the consequences of that. I lose focus. I break form, and my muscles remind me that they are only human. No matter how strong I think I am, I have to take care and focus. Otherwise, I hurt, and that's not fun. But still, I get up in the morning, I make my coffee, I get moving. Not much else to do except move on.
How frail this country is. How sad and how frail---like frightened little children, so easily hurt. Like a fallen little child crying out for some sympathy, some attention. But then, ten minutes later, running around again, raising hell.
Christ my back is stiff. I need to stand up a second.
Okay, I'm fine now.
I don't want a president who wallows in misery. I don't want a president who always absolutely has to be right about everything and never makes mistakes. I want a president who is a human being and sees that we are all human beings. I want a president who acknowledges that we are all frail beings. However, to be frail is not to fail. Sometimes, frailty comes when something has surpassed its limit.
Frailty acknowledges the imperfect in humans. We are all delicate and imperfect. We all make mistakes. But we move on. We endure.
Tuesday, November 4, 2004
Every morning I look at the front page of the New York Times to make sure the world hasn't ended. I figure that when the world does end, the New York Times will let me know.
This morning, the New York Times did not report the end of the world. Phew! We get another day.
Instead, the headline read: BUSH CELEBRATES VICTORY (and in smaller type) After Concession by Kerry, President cites ‘A Duty to Serve all Americans'.
Underneath the headline was a photo of Lynne Cheney (in a lime green suit with fringe---eeek!), Dick Cheney (in a yellow tie with bottom suit jacket button unbuttoned), George W. Bush (in a blue print tie, American Flag lapel pin, and bottom suit jacket unbuttoned), and Laura Bush (in pink suit with fringe---eek! what's with all the fringe?). In the photo, the Cheneys look like they're sharing a private dirty joke while the Bushes beam out at a crowd behind the photographer. George W has his arm around Laura who is waving.
So there they are triumphant on the front page of the New York Times, newspaper of some of the cultural elite. Oh it's rough, but my MFA and I will survive. Maybe California could secede from the Union. The Govenator could lead us. Woah, wait, what am I thinking. At least we've got stem cell research---insert diabolical laugh here.
I feel so close to New York right now---so close to our fellow Blue states on the other coast. I feel like the rest of the country is just what we have to fly over while drinking cheap wine and eating peanuts.
It's okay. Anger, Fear, Aggression, the dark side are they. Wait, why am I quoting Yoda. No, really, it's okay. Moving on. Moving on.
Let me just get in one final it-sucks, and then I'm done.