Snow day! I’ve behaved this winter and gone to work (risking life and limb) during snow and ice storms just so that I could have a day like today – when I just don’t feel like going to work and can use bad weather as an excuse.
This happened overnight and very early this morning I shoveled the deck, the steps and the sidewalk and had decided to brave it and go to work. When I was finished shoveling, it started snowing again. So I mentally said “fuck it” to work and grabbed my camera to see if I could capture some snowflakes. It sort of worked.
I plan on using the day to study (yuck), burn a few cd’s, watch television and play with the fucking cat who is feeling neglected, ignored and unloved. (She is only one of those things). Right now, though, I’m sipping coffee and watching it snow. When I’m inside looking out, I love snow. I love the majesty of it, the crispness of it. Snow, even when it’s wet and mushy, always looks crisp to me. Looks are not everything, but certainly the most important thing. Right?
I’ve got a nice smile, passable looks, and a certain charm when I need it. I’ve always used those things to my advantage without embarrassment or even a decent hesitation. Maybe because I’m not a beauty queen, I don’t feel guilty for using the assets I have. (Or maybe I’m just a user.) My “inside” has never matched my “outside” and it never bothered me – before yesterday. I am beginning to fit a demographic that makes me cringe, if you’ll forgive the pun.
When I went to vote, I had to show my voter registration card and then the lady looked up my name and I had to sign the book and verify that all the information was correct. Then the next woman handed out the ballots. For my friends not living in the States, in my state’s primary election, a voter has to declare a party and then receives a ballot for that party. I’ve never voted in a primary before and so I wasn’t sure what (if anything) I needed to do. The second woman had three stacks of ballots in front of her, perforated tear-off cards: Libertarian, Republican and Democrat. She had her hand on one ballot, ready to tear it off and hand it to me. I smiled and asked for the other party’s ballot.
In her defense, the ballot she had her hand on was the closest to her – so maybe she just had her hand on the stack and was absent-mindedly playing with the ballots, waiting for me to ask for one.
But I really think it’s because I’m starting to look like a … person who is probably affiliated with a certain political party. You thought I was going to tell you, didn’t you? If you’ve read closely, you probably already know.