Calling All Californians

Go vote!

Anew

Vote Early, Vote Often

I am so tired I could cry. Instead I will smile, and write this blog post.

Voting at my poll went extremely well, considering we had voters waiting when we arrived at 6AM to set up. Everyone got processed in a timely, courteous manner. If they came in the evening, they were treated to Presidential trivia.

Pizza deliverymen are awesome, and husbands who surprise you with frozen yogurt awesomer still.

We had about a dozen poll watchers, including a militant woman representing the Democratic party who wasn't going to smile (or be pleasant) for any reason. Not even my Presidential Trivia! She watched us set up, came back twice during voting hours and hoarded our street index, and then returned upon closing to observe us in such a way that could be called intimidation. Luckily, we are not a group who can be intimidated.

I missed a question on my Spanish quiz today. Everyone knows televisión is a feminine verb. Except for me, this afternoon.

But I made up for it with a good showing on my TESOL Speaking and Listening quiz. And then my partner and I brainstormed for a How to Teach Tone lesson plan that visually depicts the intonation of different types of questions, like concrete poems. Which as I can see it, is the only redeeming use for the poetry form.

November 4, 2008

What are you doing reading this? Go vote!

The Night Before

I just got back from doing some preliminary setup at my precinct. We constructed the voting booths, put out non-sensitive material, and elected me to bring the coffee maker. As ready as we'll ever be!

Nota bene: everyone likes baked goods and poll workers are no exception.

He Said, She Said

Bryan and I went through our mail (absentee) ballots this evening--wild Saturday night!--and read through candidate statements, issue arguments and rebuttals. We eventually decided which bubbles we wanted to fill in, and also decided that what the California ballot needs is a proposition to end propositions.

California Calling

I worked an Obama phone bank this morning. I've never before volunteered for a campaign, but it was both fun and informative and I recommend everyone volunteer for a campaign sometime in their lifetime. You will get a peek into the campaigning process, and might even influence the voting outcome.

I called Democrats and Independents, but even so I was disappointed about not getting yelled at more. I really hoping for something I could use in a story.

Election

Taxation without Representation

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July! Today is good day to make sure you're registered to vote. If you want to vote for the first time, have moved, have changed parties, changed your name, et cetera, you can (re)register here. A Google search of your county with the words "registrar voters" will also find your local office.

Truth Being Stranger Than Fiction

It seems to me that writers who don't like meeting new people, who are shy, and who when in public put their noses in a book (however good it may be), are missing out on a land parcel of stories the size of the great plains. Stories don't exist only on the page. (Moreover, these written stories often germinate in real-world events.) There are acres of stories that live in people who don't like to write, who've never thought of writing, but who have something about the human experience that they have to share.

At my polling place yesterday, us four workers bored out of our civic-minded minds, we started telling true stories. There were wonderful tales of a hotel room being trashed by Roseanne Barr and Tom Arnold; a sailer in protected Pt. Loma waters, who was notified of his location by a submarine, which rose ominously out of the water; being taken for $75 at the border, and being tickled about it; the lengths to bridge-lovers (card game) go to get their fix.

When not dishing with my fellow workers, this is what my writer's mind observed:
*high school students are fond of adorning their skin with stickers and pen doodles.
*if a dog isn't allowed entrance somewhere, and the person enforcing the rule loves dogs, the dog will be let in.
*some people are simply in a sour mood, and no amount of polite banter will make a difference.
*voters who are registered as nonpartisan don't in fact know what this means.
*overheard: "Ever since they drafted me, I vote every time."

Yo Vote'

If it isn't too much to ask, could you tell a joke (apolitical, of course) to your local poll workers? I think it's going to be a long, ennui-filled day of low voter turnout.

Voter Training

I had training today for the June third election. It was mostly the same, but what's different makes a difference. Precinct trainers really love their jobs, and I appreciated their enthusiasm. If we had to be stuck together on a Saturday with less-than-fascinating material, it helps to make the best of it.

Super Tuesday

In some respects working a precinct is more interesting than one would think, and in other respects it is less so. Interesting: dealing with ornery voters who (loudly) refuse to write their address on their provisional ballot envelope. Less so: 10AM to noon and two to four-thirty.

Kidding aside, I highly recommend the experience.

Voting

I voted absentee today at the County Registrar of Voters. Usually, I like the rush of filling in my Scantron bubbles in the local library or high school some other random locale, all while trying not to knock over the flimsy cardboard podium. I look forward to the "I voted" sticker as much as I once looked forward to a scratch n' sniff reward sticker in kindergarten. And last election, BO and I were seen on CNN at our precinct! But I'll be on call this election as a standby poll worker. They call, and I fill in at a precinct. San Diegans who aren't sure where their precinct is located can look it up here.

After voting, I came out of athletic retirement to meet up with MarcFit for a run around the bay. At seven miles, I think it was my longest run since SuperFrog (yes, that race back in September). Since I was still standing afterwards, I went back to V's place along with Amy, where V cooked a mean pasta--capellini, sausage, marinara, tomatoes, and cilantro--and we watched looped footage of Britney Spears. I could get used to this running and carbohydrate-replenishing thing.