February 5th, 2008

spies sandbaggers sense of occasion

Well, I have participated in history.

My polling place seemed deserted when I walked in. There were no picketers staked out at their usual place, 100 yards from the entrance to the church where I vote. (For those of you not in the US, our polling places are usually set up at community centers that volunteer the space: town halls, schools, and churches, in the Northeast, but in Las Vegas, I often voted (early balloting) in grocery stores. (!) Yankees mostly don't abide by early balloting. It smacks of Insufficient Gravitas.)

Anyway, while I waited in line to collect my ballot, I realized something interesting. There was no Republican line. Every so often a Republican would wander in, try to get in line, and be shooed off to the table to collect her ballot from the two extremely bored poll workers serving the Republican end of the table (All the Republican voters who came in were women.) while the Democrats waited in their endlessly growing line.

It took me about fifteen minutes to vote. We have paper ballot machines now, which I see the logic of (and they do create a nice paper trail) and there's sure, a sense of the weight of tradition to it. But I miss the big red lever that goes kerchunk.

At ~9:15 am, I was the 191st person to vote in my precinct.

Now I'm going to have a ham sandwich and some Cherry Garcia, make coffee, and get to work.
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State of the CEM--

Page 255 has no red marks on it. SCORE!

(I still love my CE, who has gone out of his way to keep me from looking like an idiot, repeatedly.)
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(no subject)

Book # 90, Amber Van Dyk, Red Means Go, in draft.

Another one I'm not allowed to talk about because it's not sold yet, but it has bicycle couriers, quirky Bohemian lifestyles, phobias, and Mysterious Plagues. *\o/*