5 Degrees of Long Line Wackadoodle

Hour 1: The Pro
I say to the people around me, "I've voted here before at least 6 times. It never takes more than 45 minutes. PLUS, we're here before the lunchtime push. This'll take an hour tops."

Hour 2: Denial
Upon seeing a disheveled red-eyed UPS truck driver emerging from the building shouting "6 HOURS! 6 HOURS!" My patient-energetic heart simply ignores Mr. UPS man. How can MY little precinct take 6 hours. I also ignore the Channel 13 News Team asking people how long they have been in line, in favor of discreetly listening to my ipod.
If I had a time machine Id watch this.

Hour 3: The Insanity of Hope
At this point, I'm in the elementary school with what felt like 2000 people and children and their grandparents cram/jammed in a little hallway. I start texting my friends for encouragement, but find that my frustration manifests in ugly ways. The smell of crayons and sweat and glue and rain all meld together. I wonder why my friends were in and out of the polling office in 2 hours or 2 minutes and I have been put in the purgatory mother of all hellish waiting lines. Hallway after hallway of people standing and people are texting me about HOPE. Wha....!!

Hour 4: Leslie vs. the Volcano.
If you have walked to the edge of a precipice, you mas well dive in. Me and the members of the line are no longer voters. We are a tribe. When one becomes tired, we find them a chair. If one becomes hungry we get them water. And if one tries to LEAVE, we remind them not of the election..but of how FAR we have come; how many hallways traversed, how many hallways unseen.

Hour 5: The Prize
When passing through the final gates, me and my tribe were rewarded with a small 2-inch trophy. Any other election this would be trivial, minutiae even but today it's an honor bestowed as a right of passage. The "I VOTED City of Norfolk" Award. I returned back into the sunlight to show off my badge to the "fresh meat" outside. I will have it laminated tomorrow.

I have never stood in line this long for anything. Not registering for class, a concert line, or even the COOLEST ride at any amusement park. It was an excercise in patience and I will sleep well knowing I did my part. Now I can complain.

Oh, BTW

The Philadelphia Phillies are WORLD FUCKING CHAMPIONS.

I've never claimed to be any sort of super sports fan or aficionado, but I do enjoy rooting for the home team. I was scorned in '93 at the tender age of 14 when Mitch Williams gave it up to Joe Carter; and I'd be lying if I didn't get a little misty last week over this whole thing.

It occurred to me, that through all of the BS that has transpired; between my 4 siblings and myself, that we were all doing the same exact thing at the same time---watchin the Phils win the World Series. And how different are since the last time that happened. It's so pithy, but still true.

I have a favorite Phillies/family memory that is decidedly un-PC. My dad had a VHS recording of when Michael Jack Schmidt retired (I think). We were watching it probably in '93ish, when Darren Daulton was the current catcher and resident giant hunk of manmeat on the team. On the tape, during the ceremony, a young Dutch Daulton came out to present something, looking about 14 years old and scrawny. Before I could even remark; my dad just said, "Yeah, that's when he was gay." It's totally wrong, but still hilarious and silly.

Oh, and that time that Mickey Morandini had an unassisted triple-play. That was kind of cool, too.

My TV Saving Grace

Mitch Hedberg had a joke about eating a good food with a bad food, and when they get to your stomach the good food would cover for the bad food. If this theory were to be applied to my television-watching habits; Mad Men has a lot of 'splainin to do.

I finally got around to watching the Mad Men Season 2 (and possibly series, boo) finale last night; and the scene with Peggy & Pete (pictured here, Elisabeth Moss & Vincent Kartheiser) makes me want to cry all day it's so good.

If they cancel this, and HBO or Bravo doesn't pick it up right quick, there will be beatings. That is all.

Leslie's um..diary:

Caffeine Intake -
1 - 24 oz 7-11 Pumpkin Spice (Obama Cup of Course)
1 - 20 oz Mt. Dew

Attempted Kisses made on my persons by Coworker Senior Gramma/Great Aunt types - 3 overall (only one today).
Declarations of Love by coworkers - 4 overall (one today by same C.S.G.G.A.T)

Coif/Mane Scale - 1 star (out of a potential 5) - I slept in much too late to fix it and at this point am happy I could find my brush.

Nothing extraordinarily spectacular is going on today. Most of my friends are just praying to the heavens that they can get out and vote in some sorta timely manner and that nothing goes wrong. Dems are accustomed to losing and coming close to the dream but never actually getting their hands on it. It's a cautious excitement going into Nov. 4th. I have put my pins and propaganda away for the moment in favor of a silent eye gesture until Wednesday. Hopefully then, I'll be moonwalking around my building, with a matching Jacko "yeehee, wooooo" sound.

It'll be sad not to see Tim Russert with his dry erase board tomorrow, but I have no doubt Chuck Todd will make us proud.

In the less monumentally important world changing news front, I'm working on acting like a feeling-non-robotic-part of the human race. I realized this morning I wasn't reacting appropriately when people use the "Love bomb" on me at work. A senior member of the human resources staff affectionately called Huggy Bear gave me a big unexpected hug and kiss (slightly west of my cheek) and then said she loved me. To which I responded, "yes..um. well... - enjoy your coffee!!" and sorta fell out of her office." EEK! Another coworker looked at me and said scoldingly "Lessssslie??, Hug Her.." I did, but was totally bewildered at the whole interchange.
There's no crying in baseball (unless you were a BoSox fan prior to 2004) and no love declarations at work!

Co-worker P had/has a very noticeable sore throat issue and keeps saying she wants to take off tomorrow. To which I respond.."Do it. It's a good idea."
Then she responds.."well I think I will."
Then I say, "you should."
And she says, "well maybe".
At this point I'm thinking I'm not being asked, I'm just merely a sounding board while she voices these ideas out loud. It's not that I don't care, but P's work attendance really doesn't affect me at all and I have trouble fostering concern when I actually just don't care. Am I robotic?

Will be glad to get tomorrow over with for better or for worse.
Vote Yall!

Obamathon 2008

I have voted in every election I've been eligible to vote in. So it's always baffling to me when people say "I'm voting this time because it's IMPORTANT." Every election is important! Every election has been important. These issues however are a whole other blog.

I went to Harbor Park Tuesday with 22,000 other "socialists". I'll admit I passed a large portion of the line to find my friends at the front (sorry Norfolk's finest). I walked 2 or 3 miles to avoid traffic (no different from the Y except wearing much cooler clothes) and stood for 5 hours with my friends to see Barack Obama speak for 45 minutes. Was it worth it - totally. Was it important..yes. Was it historic..only if you make it that way.

Am I wearing my Obama t-shirt to the polls next week? Yes, but only under my work shirt. :)

Lame Poetry..October Edition

An Ode to My Favorite Day of Week

Thursdays are nice.

I've been hit on twice and I'm drinking a latte, a Pumpkin Spice.

No powerpoints in sight, I get paid late tonight, and Happy Hour will make me feel alright.

Thursday.

Typocalypse.

If I knew more about how to make a tag, I'd file this under blog content stolen from another blog that I thought was funny. I use trade gothic (and several other gothics all the time) so this one in particular cracked me up.


What does your font say about you?

Pardon the Dust..AGAIN

Much like with hair, blogs get restless and need a yearly sprucing. So check out OEF's next incarnation..

As I told my counterparts, I've been locked in a creative cave for more than a few months. Freelance, Lavaponyland, work crapola, & voluntary political endeavors have put a serious kabash on my daily journaling (complaining).

So we've done abstract and illustration - some nostalgia was in order.

Covington in 48 hours or less...

I made my annual October trip home this year and brought my friend Shei along for the ride. Given that we both had time limitations it was a quick day trip which was nearly canceled at least 23 times due to flake and commitment issues on both parties parts. As evidenced by said pictures though, all cancellation scenarios got resolved and we made it to Covington and back with time to spare.

There were pretty trees, lady bug swarms (again), an Indian (that Shei tried to charm into giving her free obsidian..lol), an obese cat, desensitized deer, a pedicure, a fattening hotel mirror, and a "Leslie's in Covington Alert".

The lady bugs are starting to look orange this year, which a parks and rec's flyer attributed to the extended summer sun messing with their pigment. I think the deer have gotten used to my mom putting things out for them, and have realized that they are safe from hunters when they are in neighborhood yards. My cat has given up on going outside due to all the new animals in the area that either create new smells or view her as a Thanksgiving morsel - thus forgetting to attend to her physical fitness.

(I realize this post is moderately incohesive and disobedient of simple grammatical structures, but I'm tired and really wanted to post SOMETHING.)

Good times!

I needed this.

I had to put my cat, who went by too many names to mention---I called her Ging, to sleep last night. She was 16 and pretty frickin' awesome. So, needless to say, I'm pretty bummed out, but my office-mate Heather sent me a link that has brightened my day.

Passive Aggressive Notes is a website showcasing "painfully polite and hilariously hostile writings from shared spaces the world over". I have always been a fan of signs; handwritten, computer-generated, industrial, from god, whatever.

I learned at the waterpark that if you have a sign, no matter how preposterous the concept, you are right. This may not be true, but it's one of those things that I came to believe at a young age, and therefore will never let go.

Also, I'm always intrigued when I come upon a random sign prohibiting a certain behavior, because it makes me wonder what had to happen for a sign to be made. I also feel a certain amount of pride when a sign is erected because of some foolish behavior of mine.

A big draw on Passive Aggressive Notes is office-related signs/memos/notes. I am totally guilty of crafting overly complex signs & notices for mundane things---and I don't care how annoying they are. I love making them! You'll never stop me!