Here we are

"You were in there a long time," K said to me. He came with us to his school to vote, and he was right - I stood there at least 5 minutes trying to choose my presidential vote. Ultimately, it didn't make a difference for the electoral outcome, but after being categorized with people like myself (that is: the great expanse of moderate "Undecideds," thrown off voting Republican despite being registered as such by the choice of Sarah Palin for VP, among other concerns) on the news for a million years, I have to say that I was, nonetheless, thankful that I could have a choice.

It was a strange feeling to be not entirely passionate about either candidate (though not the same kind of strange as last time, when it was more like dread), but it still felt important. I liked that it felt important, because it's easy to dismiss your vote. It's a number in the giant machine, sure, and since it's just a directive to an elector, it sometimes seems middling. But it's also your offering to the founding fathers; it's your call to say one thing or the other, and it's your right to keep it to yourself or splash it all over your car and Facebook page. Whatever happens, it's the way we collect everything we've synthesized about someone's ability to lead, make good and moral choices, be a good representative for the millions of us, and do whatever they can for at least 4 years, and to allow a reset to be a motivator for turning some things around.

I don't really want to get into specifics, because the time for debate is passed (not that I really got all that involved in the cause while it was happening), so now what we do is just wait and see what happens. Some of it is sure to be good, some of it might be disastrous, and having the Democratic party in control of the entire free world makes me shake in my boots a little, being a Republican and all, but doing the process is meaningful, and I'm thankful for it.