I had hoped to write a lengthy update about the Worst Weekend Ever. Actually, the plan was to scan a handwritten letter, but my computer is broken, and then I lost my wallet, so I couldn't pay for the scanner at Kinko's. But I digress, as usual.
Tomorrow is election day, which means that a too-small percentage of my fellow citizens will cast a vote. It's a little disheartening to think about--how all of us will be affected by a new president, yet only some of us help choose him.
So I'm reminding you to vote tomorrow. And I hope you'll cast that vote for Al Gore. He's pro-choice, pro-environment, pro-gay, pro-affirmative action, and good on a whole bunch of other issues. Even though he's kinda boring, he's experienced, and I think he'd make a good president.
Chances are, if you're reading this, you're not a fervent supporter of Dubya. But you may be voting for Nader, and you're the person I'd love to talk to over tea. Maybe you can pour yourself a cup, and I'll sit here typing and downing some Orange Spice, and we can pretend. Because you're certainly pretending if you think Nader's going to win. I don't mean to be rude, just blunt. It's something you know, and yet so many of all y'all are going to vote for him in hopes of securing third-party funding for the Greens. It's an admirable cause, and I'm truly excited about the activism shown by Nader's supporters.
Let's be honest, though. This is an election, and either George W. Bush or Al Gore will be elected president tomorrow. Those are the choices. The two-party system is corrupt and exclusionary, I concede, but it's what we're dealing with right now. The time for activism to change this system isn't just at election time; it's a process that takes a long time. Is it a worthwhile cause? I feel like it is. But feeling and deciding are two different things, and tomorrow is decision time.
You can vote for Nader--and if Bush wins, you can smugly sit back and bumper-sticker-slogan your way through the next four years ("Don't blame me, I voted for Nader!"). And if that's the case, I hope that it keeps you happy when civil rights don't advance, when gays and lesbians aren't afforded equal rights, when a woman's right to choose is threatened, and when our economy takes a big fat dump (it will).
This is not an election to take lightly. Especially if you live in a swing state, please think about how you use your vote and how it will affect our collective future. You can "make a statement" with your vote if you choose, or you can use it to help elect the better candidate.
I said there'd be personal with the political, and y'know, the two blended in this weekend, also known as the Worst Weekend Ever. Okay, so I'm exaggerating, but it wasn't so hot. On Friday, I rented a car and went to Soul Vegetarian with DK. I was pretty excited about going to Soul Vegetarian, because I can't find good fake meat in this city. On the other hand, I was nervous about seeing DK because I respect him so much, and I'd feel bad if we didn't have the same click that we used to. After a long two days at work, I was under the weather and not very exciting and just kinda lousy all-around. So I went home early and crashed into my nice flannel sheets (yum).
The next morning, I woke up around ten and drove to IKEA to buy a dresser. I am so indecisive when it comes to aesthetics. I spent 20 minutes in the Wardrobes and Chest section, trying to decide between the Aneboda and Kreptelkrok dressers. Finally I went with the Aneboda (cheaper, bigger) and spent half an hour in line at the checkout. I had my Gore/Lieberman button on, and the cashier drawled, "Gore, huh? I'm from Texas, so you know who my vote goes for." I jokingly told him that the elections had been moved to Wednesday, and he believed me. So I had to reassure him that really, the elections were still Tuesday. Me and my damned conscience.
I drove back into the city with the crappy Escort stereo cranking a mix tape from Dylan Miner. Most of the stuff was too screamy-chugga for my liking, but I did feel nostalgia for the Born Against and Anasarca songs, and then Radiohead put me in a smoother mood. I picked "Fred" up (shoutout to my girl Ophi, who knows what's up) and we went thrifting to no avail. The key to good thrift shopping is to stay away from any store that may be frequented by hipsters. So then we headed back to Fred's apartment and decide to make dinner (portabellas, mmm). The boys were having beer, and I was sipping my Coke, and then everything went to hell. I felt bad; that's the simplest and most honest way to put it. Nausea had kicked in, and I hate unpleasantness over something as unimportant as alcohol. Spectacularly lousy indeed. I wish I could say that I left in a huff (bad-ass!) but really, I slowly descended the stairs, each footstep amplified and lonely.
Part of me refuses to sensibly head home when things like this happen. It's like I'd be admitting some kind of emotional injury, and so I try to fool myself into thinking that I'm unaffected. I drove up and I went to Jinx for vegetarian chili, wrote Brian a letter, and then spent an hour looking for parking near home. After halfheartedly laughing at some SNL, especially Will Farrell's rap-singing, I found sleep quickly and happily.
The next morning, I was supposed to meet some friends at Nookies for breakfast, but I couldn't find my wallet. No big deal, it'll turn up, I'm kinda messy, right? Wrong. I cleaned and tore the apartment apart in vain. Still have no idea where my wallet is.
This morning, when I dropped the rental car off, the rental car guy was all flirty and full of "a pretty girl like you shouldn't be in Wicker Park, blah blah blah" and normally I would have laughed, but I feel so pounded lately that I can't find my voice. I'm not depressed in the clinical sense, but I feel pushed down, like someone's taking giant popsicle sticks and pressing them into my back. Ooh, a modern-day apple-backed Gregor Samsa. Tomorrow has to be better.
Tomorrow is election day, which means that a too-small percentage of my fellow citizens will cast a vote. It's a little disheartening to think about--how all of us will be affected by a new president, yet only some of us help choose him.
So I'm reminding you to vote tomorrow. And I hope you'll cast that vote for Al Gore. He's pro-choice, pro-environment, pro-gay, pro-affirmative action, and good on a whole bunch of other issues. Even though he's kinda boring, he's experienced, and I think he'd make a good president.
Chances are, if you're reading this, you're not a fervent supporter of Dubya. But you may be voting for Nader, and you're the person I'd love to talk to over tea. Maybe you can pour yourself a cup, and I'll sit here typing and downing some Orange Spice, and we can pretend. Because you're certainly pretending if you think Nader's going to win. I don't mean to be rude, just blunt. It's something you know, and yet so many of all y'all are going to vote for him in hopes of securing third-party funding for the Greens. It's an admirable cause, and I'm truly excited about the activism shown by Nader's supporters.
Let's be honest, though. This is an election, and either George W. Bush or Al Gore will be elected president tomorrow. Those are the choices. The two-party system is corrupt and exclusionary, I concede, but it's what we're dealing with right now. The time for activism to change this system isn't just at election time; it's a process that takes a long time. Is it a worthwhile cause? I feel like it is. But feeling and deciding are two different things, and tomorrow is decision time.
You can vote for Nader--and if Bush wins, you can smugly sit back and bumper-sticker-slogan your way through the next four years ("Don't blame me, I voted for Nader!"). And if that's the case, I hope that it keeps you happy when civil rights don't advance, when gays and lesbians aren't afforded equal rights, when a woman's right to choose is threatened, and when our economy takes a big fat dump (it will).
This is not an election to take lightly. Especially if you live in a swing state, please think about how you use your vote and how it will affect our collective future. You can "make a statement" with your vote if you choose, or you can use it to help elect the better candidate.
I said there'd be personal with the political, and y'know, the two blended in this weekend, also known as the Worst Weekend Ever. Okay, so I'm exaggerating, but it wasn't so hot. On Friday, I rented a car and went to Soul Vegetarian with DK. I was pretty excited about going to Soul Vegetarian, because I can't find good fake meat in this city. On the other hand, I was nervous about seeing DK because I respect him so much, and I'd feel bad if we didn't have the same click that we used to. After a long two days at work, I was under the weather and not very exciting and just kinda lousy all-around. So I went home early and crashed into my nice flannel sheets (yum).
The next morning, I woke up around ten and drove to IKEA to buy a dresser. I am so indecisive when it comes to aesthetics. I spent 20 minutes in the Wardrobes and Chest section, trying to decide between the Aneboda and Kreptelkrok dressers. Finally I went with the Aneboda (cheaper, bigger) and spent half an hour in line at the checkout. I had my Gore/Lieberman button on, and the cashier drawled, "Gore, huh? I'm from Texas, so you know who my vote goes for." I jokingly told him that the elections had been moved to Wednesday, and he believed me. So I had to reassure him that really, the elections were still Tuesday. Me and my damned conscience.
I drove back into the city with the crappy Escort stereo cranking a mix tape from Dylan Miner. Most of the stuff was too screamy-chugga for my liking, but I did feel nostalgia for the Born Against and Anasarca songs, and then Radiohead put me in a smoother mood. I picked "Fred" up (shoutout to my girl Ophi, who knows what's up) and we went thrifting to no avail. The key to good thrift shopping is to stay away from any store that may be frequented by hipsters. So then we headed back to Fred's apartment and decide to make dinner (portabellas, mmm). The boys were having beer, and I was sipping my Coke, and then everything went to hell. I felt bad; that's the simplest and most honest way to put it. Nausea had kicked in, and I hate unpleasantness over something as unimportant as alcohol. Spectacularly lousy indeed. I wish I could say that I left in a huff (bad-ass!) but really, I slowly descended the stairs, each footstep amplified and lonely.
Part of me refuses to sensibly head home when things like this happen. It's like I'd be admitting some kind of emotional injury, and so I try to fool myself into thinking that I'm unaffected. I drove up and I went to Jinx for vegetarian chili, wrote Brian a letter, and then spent an hour looking for parking near home. After halfheartedly laughing at some SNL, especially Will Farrell's rap-singing, I found sleep quickly and happily.
The next morning, I was supposed to meet some friends at Nookies for breakfast, but I couldn't find my wallet. No big deal, it'll turn up, I'm kinda messy, right? Wrong. I cleaned and tore the apartment apart in vain. Still have no idea where my wallet is.
This morning, when I dropped the rental car off, the rental car guy was all flirty and full of "a pretty girl like you shouldn't be in Wicker Park, blah blah blah" and normally I would have laughed, but I feel so pounded lately that I can't find my voice. I'm not depressed in the clinical sense, but I feel pushed down, like someone's taking giant popsicle sticks and pressing them into my back. Ooh, a modern-day apple-backed Gregor Samsa. Tomorrow has to be better.
