Open letters

Dear voters at District X:

You rock! Thanks for coming out in big numbers and showing your pride. Sorry I was such a total space cadet from sun-up to sun-down. Whatever the outcome, we all worked hard, voters and workers.

Your tired poll worker,

SL

PS: almost 50% voter turnout is great--do you think we could bump it to 70 by November???

Dear Decision Makers in terms of elections:

There were too many people that got lost, folks that voted recently enough that they should have been on our rolls but were not. Let's be more organized next time...

Frustrated poll worker, who saw at least 15 people not be able to vote.

Dear Woman who went downtown for a court order so she could vote:

Our applause was not enough. We should have given you a standing ovation, YOU ROCK! Thank you for having the flexibility to make voting today a priority.

Honored to have worked in the polling place you traversed, even if you were in the other district...

Dear Man who was registered Republican because you forgot to change your registration to Democratic:

What can I say, Murphy is alive and well. Thank you for being fairly un-angry with us, who could do nothing to rectify the system.

Just a poll worker....

To the voters in Pennsylvania,

WOO HOO! We did it! We came out in record numbers. I am not watching the news tonight, I am going to bed, because at this point it didn't matter if we won or lost, it mattered how we looked in our candidate t-shirts. (I stole that from Kiki, who says "It doesn't matter if you win or lose, but how you look in your tennis shorts.")

SL, ready to sleep.

*************

The great thing about today is that I didn't have to be in my life. I don't see the other election workers any time but on election/primary days, so I didn't talk about work, relationships, plans. I read the Post-Gazette pretty much cover to cover, Good Housekeeping, ditto, skimmed the end of a Katrina Hurricane memoir (eh...) and almost finished the Quick crossword. And all day repeated these words: "Have you used these machines before? There are two pages, one with the candidates and one with the delegates. Don't leave until the blue screen comes up and the machine thanks you." My motor skills and verbal skills were at an all time low, but I made it through. My proudest moment was the organization and counting of the 13 absentee ballots.

I'm outta heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere!

It's late, it's cold, there's snow on the ground...

And your resident blogger has...nothing!

I've actually been living life instead of writing about it, and that is NOT to say one supercedes the other, I could not would not live if I could not write, but at the end of the day, I am tired.

And at the beginning of the day, I have to wash my hair first, because with the new 'do I can't put it up and not blow dry it. (Yes, pictures, soon.)

I went to a gathering thingy with some OD folks tonight and it was hard--I'm so used to not being out in the evening that when folks who genuinely cared asked me how I was, I wanted to break down and cry for the tenderness in their voices. Once we sat down and could talk intellectually, I could say brilliant things and it was much better. (Yes, she's humble, too.)

I had breakfast at Panera with Elle. Elle and I became friends, I calculated it, almost 15 years ago. We were in Mary Kay--she still is. And she is one of those friends that can speak truth into my life. I sat there and wept a little. So yes, today was a day punctuated by tears in the morning and the evening. She just listened as I told her that I just don't understand.

As I drove home this evening from the gathering, I went into that little place one must really never go, the place of "what ifs." Maybe if I had done something different, I would be coming home to a phone call instead of what I consider the longest silent treatment. No, my brain somehow hasn't fully processed the concept of "break-up." I keep thinking I'll walk in the front door and this will be the day that he'll sing that Billy Joel song, "I don't want to be alone anymore."

What fools we humans are. Remind me to get a copy of "It's called a break-up because it's broken" (which I "read" this spring BEFORE Max and I were a couple--it was an audio book.)

It's 10:30. If I want to get up and do some paperwork before work tomorrow (read: pay bills), I'd better go off to bed. No M*A*S*H re-runs for me tonight.

Tomorrow is the beginning of the Bellefield Women's Gathering, which will be a lot of socializing, dessert and games. Saturday is the continuation, speakers and sessions. Sunday is BJ's ordination. So I need my sleep, and I need to find out from someone how we're figuring that parking will work for tomorrow...

Color me pink, in my nighty, under the covers, sleeping. But oh, that blanket of snow, how it makes everything seem a little nicer. I do love snow. Oh, I do.

G'nite, sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite.
If they do, hit them with a shoe!

Oh, and the Dillons have illustrated a lovely Mother Goose counting book. How I love the Dillons.

G'nite....

Can I have a glass of water?

Sleep tight.

There might be monsters under the bed!

Don't let the bed bugs bite...

Bed bugs??

If they do...

IF?

Hit them with a shoe.

So I have to take shoes to bed?

Mommy!!!

May your sleep be restful and may you awake to a geography covered in white or green, whichever you prefer or is appropriate for your time zone.

Off to bed, Sarah Louise. You have a big day tomorrow.

Oh, alright. G'nite, everyone!

back in the saddle, as it were...

Yes, Lucy* looks beautiful. And I'm getting used to her braking (after a week of getting used to the rental Nissan's braking...) I now must use a key to lock her, but being able to use the door at all is a miracle.

Now, on to the next, which may involve proving that unlike the CarFax history, this car WAS in an accident (previous to the dent on my passenger door). The guy at the auto body shop said that my door (the passenger door) had been painted once before, which to me is a red flag. And I don't know much about cars, but I've been told, gosh, it must have been in an accident for that part on the power lock to break.

I don't know. What I don't want is a drawn out legal battle. But $500 (four hundred twenty eight and change to be exact) is rent money. Or something. It's 10% of what I paid for the car, including the warranty which didn't cover the power lock. I don't qualify for the lemon law until I have three things go wrong, but I want a lawyer or something!!

Anyways...I am exhausted, it is raining, and I am going to bed. Since this was my first night back with Lucy, I'm very grateful that it is rain and not snow.

G'nite.

_______________
*my 1990 Honda Accord