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Well fine citizens, today is election day (note the enthusiasm...yep, I'm still in a funk).

Updates later today perhaps. I need a break.

Why not go check out some of the fine nerds in blogland who are probably liveblogging the results as we speak?

 

(photo courteosy of Rion Nakaya)

 

The Neglected Ones

I wrote this a few weeks ago, so it doesn't take into account Eminem's latest recklessness.

 

Nothing too insightful here today folks. This is arguably the case everyday, but I'm sure you'll be nice and allow me this personal moment of self-deprecation and navel gazing. I'm in a funk today. Burned out perhaps, but not much in the mood for talking about anything beyond the speck on my wall let alone current events or politics. Last night I found myself sitting on the couch in my living room, watching ABC's "Extreme Home Make-Over", crying in glee over these complete strangers being blessed with a new house. It was nearly euphoric. Yep, I need a vacation. Thanksgiving couldn't come soon enough.

Screed bumps ahead.

Day-light savings time apparently did me no good as I fell asleep on my couch, and even worse, in my jeans. Now I have a question for the masses: what benevolent dictator decided it was not okay to fall asleep in your day clothes? I remember countless times when I'd be enjoying some nice, comfortable, in-the-arms-of-Jesus-type sleep and my mother would shake me out of my slumber proclaiming, "You need to change into your pajamas right now!" or "Don't you dare fall asleep in your regular clothes!"

I never understood this logic. I mean, besides potentially having your circulation cut off by a tight waistband, what was the risk? Headlice? Low SAT scores? No social skills? Was I going to go to school the next day and have all the kids pointing and making fun of me, yelling, "Hey there's that girl who didn't change into her pajamas last night!" Surely there are worse sins out there than falling asleep without changing into your pajamas. For example, falling asleep with gum in your mouth, or taking a toaster into the bathtub, or leaving the house with the iron on, or killing a baby squirrel. Yet somehow, my parents always made me feel like I was going to contract a terminal illness if I failed to comply with the unwritten rule of always wearing pajamas to bed.

Now here I am, a grown woman, in my own house, living by my own rules, and still convicted by my infraction of this unwritten law that says I'm not allowed to sleep in my regular clothes. It's weighing on my conscience. I must right the wrong by wearing plaid to bed tomorrow or something terribly cliche and lumber jack-ish. Or maybe something with bunnies or polka dots.

In any case, I caught two flicks this weekend, and while I don't plan on becoming a critic anytime soon, I will say that Jamie Foxx is deserving of his props for proving himself a true thespian in the biopic Ray. By way of the marathon long movie previews they show you before each film, I'd like to point out the sheer stupidity of an upcoming Nicholas Cage film called "National Treasure", in which his character STEALS THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. "Yeah, there's a believable scenario," I snickered at the preview as I ate the artery-clogging junk they call "popcorn".

I would also like to take this opportunity to say "shame" on those who are running the scam that gets people to pay $167.50 for popcorn. Have you SEEN the movie theater prices on concessions? Highway robbery is taking place in airports and movie theaters. They might as well just take out the dollar amount and write, "Popcorn: 1 kidney" or "Medium Drink: Your aorta" or "Bon-bons: Your first born child". Now there's a political platform I can get behind. I just might be willing to cast my vote for a presidential candidate who can promise me cheap popcorn when I go to the movies.

Speaking of shmolitics, I did the deed. No, not that deed. The other deed. I sent in my absentee ballot and declared who I think should be running this show (and what a show it is). For that reason alone, I think I deserve not to be subjected to the horribly tragic political commercials that will be running nonstop over the next 24 hours. I wish we had interactive television, then when some politician's face pops up on the screen I can say, "Hey I already voted so back offa me." But alas, instead I will just continue to lament to the God of mercy to move us through this process quickly and peacefully. Although somehow I don't believe things are going to go down quietly. I can't recall having ever been in such anticipation before an election. This is only my second presidential election as a voter so it's not as though there is much for me to compare my feelings with, but just flow with it, I'm telling a story here.

When I entered college as an 18-year-old, under some delusion that I was going to be living there for a great length of time, I registered to vote in Connecticut. Since moving back to Seattle three years ago, I was dragging my feet on changing over my registration. So last month, on the very, last possible day to register, in true Ambra procastinator-perfectionist fashion, I marched myself down to the county's election office an hour before it closed. When I arrived, I found that there were hundreds of people there just like me. As we stood in line, I felt all warm and fuzzy in the company of other procrastinators like myself. It was a bonding experience. We massaged each others' egos by reaffirming our right to be last minute in our affairs and held hands and sang kumbaya. It was quite nice.

We all had our voter registrations in hand and were nearing the front of the line. Everything seemed fine and dandy when the unthinkable happened. The news crews showed up. Not just a news crew as in one, singular, but there were multiple news crews on the scene with cameramen and booms (the long microphone stick) and all those plastic looking made-up anchor people were there too. "Dear God," I prayed, "Please don't let them show face on the six o'clock news." Did they think this was some kind of joke? I'm sure someone was down there sitting in an NBC affiliate office thinking, "Hey I have a bright idea! Let's go down there an embarrass all the procrastinator voters by exposing them on state-wide television!"

I was not amused. I quickly shielded my face with a piece of paper and went on my merry way. I can't wait until this marathon is over, how about you?