Reading: Myra Goldberg's Bee Season

Moving: Nordic Track: 20', 2.28 miles

Listening: KBCO

Watching: election returns

Learning: I love my state. I already knew that. What I learned was a new reason: Connecticut elected Lieberman to both the Senate and the vice-presidency.

7 November 2000: Electoral Collage

Today during staff meeting CoolBoss brought in her leftover Hallowe'en candy. That there should be any left a full week later seems pretty incredible to me, but not as incredible as Sally saying in the beginning of the Peanuts Thanksgiving special that she hadn't finished her Hallowe'en candy. She had Snickers and Milky Ways. A while ago it came out that CoolBoss, like Colonel Potter, didn't distinguish between the two. But since she's not a M*A*S*H aficionado I couldn't do Radar's spiel at her, "with peanuts or without?"

The point of that, after those two asides, is that this got us talking about the recent Snickers ad. A man goes into a voting booth and immediately an animated elephant and donkey appear over each shoulder (taking turns so no one could say "Democrats shouldn't be on the right side of the screen!" or "Eek! The Republican is on his left shoulder!" The two characters commence talking at the voter: "My dad was president." "My dad was a senator." Following some stupid thing or other the Bush-elephant says, the donkey says, "I invented the Internet." The elephant pipes up, "My dad and I wear the same shoe size. Pants too." The donkey interjects, "I invented pants." Then another voice intones, "Going to be a while?" implying you should bring a Snickers bar along to keep up your energy. (The subtext of the ad is that all of the yammering is too tedious to listen to. But since the human is in a voting booth, it shouldn't, I hope, discourage voting.)

Egg and I love "I invented pants." For me it's like "Wind the frog" or "A naked American man stole my balloons" as far as perfect lines go. Except it's at least slightly anti-Gore, and not as many people have seen the ad--which will lose topicality oh maybe today--as have seen "Toy Story," and it lacks the sheer ludicrosity that lets the "American Werewolf in London" line be funny even out of context.

So the meeting went along. And along some more as we discussed the evaluation process and the salary pool from which raises are drawn and so on. Finally someone reached for a Snickers and as he tore open the wrapper, CoolBoss asked, "Gonna be here a while?" Talk progressed and griping was aired. Finally Egg burst out, "I invented the salary pool!"

Maybe it was because of all the Milky Ways jacking up our sugar levels but she and I nearly collapsed under the table.

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We primed the dining room. Yes, we really did. I took this picture when I realized we had none of the window in its Before state. I didn't take a picture of the walls last night mid-priming when the dinginess of the current color really stood out. Now, the whole window is taped and most of it is primed--RDC did all the walls and the ceiling but I only did 3/4 of the window. Taping each pane takes a long time. Plus I taped the floors.

RDC was going to go out with the boys tonight but he's an information junkie, sitting on the couch watching CNN on television and reading CNN on his laptop. Meanwhile I'm in my study doing stuff like putting away crafts stuff left out from Hallowe'en, wondering what I'm going to bring to my sister's crafts fest, planning to research a tree-skirt pattern, selecting pictures for my next photo collage, realizing I have way more landscape than portrait pictures for said collage, cleaning the sticky price tag off a photograph frame I found for the picture of my father as a child, realizing I have that great picture of my mother as a little girl that I would like to hang on my wall, and scanning the walls for studs. In other words, distracting myself so I don't gnaw through my knuckles and masticate my lips to mash. It's almost 7:00, and Gore has 145 electoral votes to Bush's 130, but at 7:00 the midwestern states will tilt the balance toward Bush again.

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Hamlet would like everyone to know that, despite appearances, he is not a Republican. I do not know the political standing of most of my animals. I'm sure that Banzai is a Libertarian. Monty votes Green. Boo votes exactly as I do. Opus still votes for himself. Madeline is too young. Morse is Independent (as am I) and Dickon I don't know.

Today at Ross using my store credit (a simple, cheap, plum, tailored dress and a frame for a picture of my father), I looked at some tree skirts that I declined to buy because I wonder if I could make one. It wouldn't need to be too complex. I could use the bells from my jongleur's collar and I have red velvet left over from my hat. I could make that at my sister's party. I have to finish my Christmas shopping for her before the end of the month so I can bring everything with me.

She'll probably only want gift certificates to Pottery Barn though. The Monopoly game in 1999 and the crossword in 1992 each took weeks and weeks of work. I haven't even thought of an idea for a personalized present yet, let alone begun on such a project. The Catalog of Crap I would buy her if I bought her Crap Like That, however, is proceeding apace.

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It's 7:12. The phone just rang with a caller urging us to vote. RDC laughed at the person, told him we'd both voted earlier in the day, and suggested he not call anyone else in Denver since in fact that polls closed twelve minutes ago. I walked to the museum this morning to vote. I don't know why I thought it would be in the main lobby--even though it's the largest area, of course a polling station would interrupt normal museum operation. So I walked around three sides of the museum and headed where the bear was looking.

Election judges shouldn't go out of their way to piss off voters. The staff were the usual collection of retirees and volunteers. Most made the usual chitchat with voters about the cold and snow and what a loyal dog that was waiting outside for his mistress and so on. One woman talked loudly on her own, and of course her colleagues couldn't ignore her entirely but they did try to change her subjects. She spoke about jazz, hardly an objectionable topic except that she spoke so very loudly that no one could hear herself think, and then she started talking about how worthless young people are, how none of us knows how to can or gut a chicken or knit. Another of the judges indicated the line of voters in front of them, hinting to the old hag that perhaps she should shut her toothless trap, but not she. She held forth about how spoiled we are (and I say "we" because I belong to the demographic she contemned en masse) and I, ignorant of knitting, preserving food, or dressing carcasses, held my tongue. I wouldn't want to be rude as well.

Really the view from behind the museum is better than this camera, or I with this camera, can take. For days the mountains have been obscured by the clouds that dumped not on us but on the eastern plains states. Along the horizon, that slate-blue is the foothills just after sunrise. If you squint you can see a line of white over the slate that represents Mt. Evans and the Arapahoe peaks.

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The archway between the living and dining rooms poses a problem. We're not sure if we'll paint it the same sage green of the walls or instead the cream of the ceiling. Certainly not the semiglossy white the trim will be, and since the trim at its foot will be white, cream might clash. It's a very pale cream, but against glossy white the contrast of cream would be stark. As would be the bright white of the bedroom ceiling paint.

So I guess it'll be sage.

What were the previous owners thinking when they painted the trim darker than the walls? Is there any reason?

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I started Disgrace last night though I haven't finished Bee Season yet. I kept reading and reading but making no progress and eventually RDC asked me, "Are you asleep?" That's why I was still on page 4. I am hoping Disgrace is more like Foe than the other Coetzee I have read. I really didn't like The Life and Times of Michael K. Too wretched, and if there was a societal or political metaphor I missed it.

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8:34. Florida reverted from Gore to undecided a while ago and I'm rambling. Also I'm trying to fill the space between the pictures. 9:00: the popular vote in Florida will probably go to Bush. Damn the premature calling of that state.