I feel like I did when I was a kid at Christmas. The election is less than a week away and I have never been more excited, stressed, doubtful, or exuberant. The analogy to Christmas is very accurate as I was born with a recessive Jewish gene and any little comment made by my family would send me into paroxysms of concern. While the adults in my life thought it would be funny to plant the seeds of doubt in my mind, "I don't know...do you REALLY think you were good enough to get something from Santa?", I spent at least two weeks leading up to Christmas going over every single deed I had done over the past 364 days and wondering if there was even an outside chance that Santa would find me worthy. (Yeah, hey adults, when your kid has massive self esteem issues, it's best to let that sleeping dog lie when it comes to the holidays.)
Needless to say, Christmas eve memories for me revolve around enormous stomach aches and the impending doom a child feels when they discover that not only do they have explosive diarrhea, they are also wearing footed pajamas and their body length zipper has jammed three inches below their chin. Oh yeah! Good times!
So I am waiting waiting waiting to vote. I refuse to vote early. I refuse to vote absentee. I don't care if it takes me five hours to wait in the church basement surrounded by blue haired old ladies that have to constantly adjust their bifocals in order to squint out the fact that I am registered in the big book of all that is holy and wonderful. I will pull out a lighter, hold it above my head, and sway to the undulations of the crowd. I will live in the moment.
Nothing irks me more than people that don't vote. This year, I've been surrounded by so many people that are mobilizing new voters, convincing people that yes, their votes DO count, and working hard to overcome all the media attention that swirls around votes that don't get counted. Maybe I'm living in a bubble, but I'm feeling so many positive vibes this election that I'm not only looking foreward to the results, I'm looking foreward to the process.
Also, for the first time since I worked on a political campaign at the tender age of 12, I want to seek out company for election night. I want to celebrate or cry with a group of people that understand, in the soft ionic curl curl of their soul, what I am trying so inadequately to verbalize.
Plus, it's never fun to soak your head in cheap champagne alone. That, my friends, is a job for Jack Daniels.