It Doesn't Matter If You Pick the Right Candidate When You Can't Find the Poll

The election is a week away. Are you registered to vote at your current address? Are you sure? Do you know where you're voting? Years ending in two (like 2012) involve Congressional Redistricting. This is a snooty government term which means, "We've had time to go throw the census results and fight over new boundary lines. You lose." Okay, that's pretty cynical, sometimes the government does make decisions that don't screw over the average person, I just don't have any recent examples.

Anyway, back to where to vote, when they change district lines you might end up in a new district. Minneapolis actually closed several polling places this year, too, because things weren't confusing enough. Well, that, and staffing a polling site for sixteen hours for less than a thousand voters is not fiscally sound. Yup, they are actually trying to save our money. Oooo! A recent example! That was too easy.

When you get to the polls, you will be helped by Election Judges. These are people who make roughly minimum wage (some actually do it for free) arrive at six in the morning to set up, stay until every voter who was at the polls before eight p.m. has voted, clean up the place and finally get to leave. I was usually done by 9:30, but my old site closed for being too small, I have no idea how late the new one will be. Please be patient with us. We are not regular, full-time employees of the elections departments. We are ordinary people, retired folks, workers who took a vacation day, college students cutting class ~ we do this because without us, you might have to vote by appointment and still stand in line for hours. Imagine if half the election judges quit, there would be half as many polling places ~ and you think the lines are long now.

The Election Judges will sign you in (if you're pre-registered) sign you up (if your state allows same day registration) give you your ballot, answer any questions about how it works, help ensure your ballot is counted, all while remaining impartial. Think about that. If you've been reading this blog, you know I'm opinionated, yet I absolutely cannot share that opinion on election day. It's so very, very hard. But more important than difficult, so I shut the heck up.

Your Election Judges will try very hard to serve you. Please try to be patient if it takes us a minute to find your new polling place ~ we cannot possibly memorize every address in town. We'll try to patient even if you're the 102nd person to insist, wrongly, that this is your spot.

Go to Can I Vote to find out where to go and what you need to bring. This is a nationwide website set up by Elections Officials to help everyone find what they need. Every link on this post takes you there. Please vote. Even if we disagree on every single candidate and issue, please vote. Democracy works best when everyone is involved.

In 2008, in Minneapolis, two election judges helped a woman with curbside voting (for those who can't make it all the way to the poll) because she was in labor and refused to go to the hospital until she voted. That, by the way, is why do it, cause democracy rocks!

It's a Good Life

When I was written up for complaining & being negative, my boss mentioned that she had complaints from more than one person and that is why she had to act on them. I don't know who complained. I don't know who has decided that my complaints are more destructive to the corporate morale than other people's. Note to management: if you really want to eff with morale, plant the bug in someone's brain that someone they work worth is a traitor.

These people have become a major topic of conversation 'round the old water cooler (figuratively, of course, the real cooler was removed because it was too expensive). Many people have asked who I think complained. I find myself afraid to answer. What if the asker is the tattler? Will there be another complaint? Another report? Will I be fired if I complain that someone doesn't like me? Am I the closing announcer for As the Stomach Turns?

My boss's boss's boss
(a.k.a. The Head Cheese)

I strongly suspect my boss's boss's boss (yep, I'm that low on the ladder) partly because he has no sense of humor & is terrible at reading people and mostly because he's a jerk. One needn't being a jerk to manage in my little niche of the Fourth Circle of Hell. In fact, all the previous regimes have been nice people who thought their staff members made valuable contributions to the company and might even have a good idea or two. But the current Head Cheese is about as appealing as head cheese. I try to avoid talking to him anyway, so I don't really have to watch my mouth.

Trouble is, who else? There are so many people we interact with every day at work. You think it's just the guy at the next desk. Then you realize, the girl from the next department, with whom you never deal, does have a cube wall in common . . . and she could be overhearing just enough to completely misinterpret what you said. Or it could be someone visiting her. Maybe it's someone behind you in the breakroom. It could be a friend who meant to be helpful ~ thinking the boss would guide you away from the land of whiny bitches without putting anything in writing (Whoops!). Maybe it's someone you thought was your friend and you thought wrong. The last option is by far the worst.

Several people have asked me why I'm so perky ~ apparently, it's not quite believable. So, my paranoia rages. I'm afraid to talk to anyone, which is so antithetical to my nature that I've spent most of the week with a migraine. Woo frigging hoo. I feel like I'm living in The Twilight Zone episode "It's a Good Life". It was set in a small town with an omnipotent little boy ~ if someone said, or thought, anything unpleasant, he could punish them and would banish them to the cornfield. (The short story upon which it was based is creepier.) So, I trudge through my days, wondering who I can trust, and reminding myself, "It's a Good Life."

Vote Your Moral Conscience

Priests bring up the marriage amendment with varying approaches. Some are frighteningly heavy-handed, last spring, Father Izen of St. Raphael's gave me my first dose of this bitter brew. He threw oh-so-casually into his homily the "fact" the children must be raised by their biological parents,  that adoption means one or both biological parents doesn't love them enough to stick around. After Mass, I sat in the car for a good ten minutes sobbing ~ not a discrete little sniffle, we're talking full bawling with fluids pouring out of every facial orifice. Never, ever, was I made to feel like a second-class citizen until that sermon. And Father Izen, I sincerely hope that on your first day of purgatory you can feel the pain you caused adoptees & their families and gays & those who love them, during that sermon, because Jesus talked a lot about love, and he seemed pretty darned fond of children, and I cannot believe that he'd like hatred spewing from the altar in his name.

Today, Father Don (St. Hedwig Church's greatest asset) brought up the election. He doesn't do well with the mean approach. At the Prayers of the Faithful, he reminded us of the upcoming election and prayed that everyone would pray and, "Vote your moral conscience." What a beautiful way to put it. Isn't that what priests should tell their parishioners, "Vote your moral conscience"? I seem to recall my seventh grade religion teacher telling us we shouldn't follow anyone, even bishops, blindly, lest we be led astray by false prophets.

If you pray on the subject, and open your heart, and listen for God's answer, won't you vote properly? I've prayed and prayed. The answer that keeps coming is "Love one another." As a Catholic, chapter & versing doesn't come naturally, I had to actually look up the verse I wanted. It's Matthew 22:39, "Love your neighbor as yourself" That's a quote, from Jesus; he's kind of a bigshot with us. I love myself enough to marry the person I truly love. Jesus keeps whispering "love" in my ear. So, I have to vote "NO!" because that is clearly the more loving choice. I don't presume to know God's mind (unlike Mr Nienstedt). What I do know, is that if I'm wrong, and I could be, it will be a lot easier to face the Final Judgement having wrongly supported love than wrongly supported bigotry.

I think I should be able to marry whomever I chose (and I did, woo hoo!) without the state saying I picked the wrong gender of person. It's a slippery slope we're on. First, the big push to decide which gender one can marry, next they'll decide which race is appropriate. Pretty soon, the government will decide which religion your prospective spouse must be.

There is a great song that everyone pondering voting yes should listen to. The first time I heard it, I felt the Holy Spirit and it wasn't saying anything bad about homosexuals, it was agreeing with the song.  You'll have to follow the link because I couldn't embed it. For all the children.
God bless and vote your moral conscience.

Me & My Bad Attitude

I am a terrible, awful, horrible, despicable human being. Possibly, not even human. My supervisor would tell you that's not what she meant. HR would tell you that's not what was meant. But, when you get called into a closed-door meeting and informed that your complaining, negative attitude and derogatory comments are inconsistent with "corporate values" and must change or disciplinary action will be taken which can include termination, you gotta figure you're Hitler-esque.

I've tried to wear my heart on my sleeve but it's too protected there ~ instead I hold it out in front for everyone to see and spit on. I know I complain a lot. I thought that I mixed niceties in with the complaints, but there was no mention of that. I regularly make people laugh, but that doesn't count. I praise my coworkers frequently, apparently not to the right people. I thought actions spoke louder than words, but they whisper. 

So what was the incident that got me in trouble? A coworker was on vacation and I complained that it's hard when she's gone. She works twice as fast as anyone I've ever seen in the job (and I've seen dozens). It's not that other people aren't good enough, it's that you notice when Michael Jordan doesn't play. She is on a completely different level. In my twisted world view, I expressed praise for her, and no, I have no idea what my actual words were, but obviously they were bad. Apparently, the actual words were along the lines of "No one else is any good."Others (yes, plural) complained to my boss that I trashed them and made them feel bad. 

Really? You can file a complaint when a co-worker hurts your feelings? This meeting hurt my feelings.

Also, I gossip too much. Ummm . . . kay. . . half the time I talk about others, someone else started the conversation (also, someone else is always in the conversation). And we're expressing opinions, not making accusations. Are they being written up too? Is no one ever allowed to say anything about or to a coworker other than "Great job, team! I suck but you're wonderful!!"

If I have anything bad to say, I have to say it to someone who the power to fix it, usually, that would be my supervisor. Uh. . . my supervisor has a blank look or a glib answer for everything (seriously, only extremes). My manager can't make a decision to save her life (if you don't like the idea just say "no"). My director believes in "change for change's sake" and absolutely will not listen to any opinions or ideas that do not agree with his opinions and completely support his changes. 

She did say if I want to talk about people behind their backs I should do it outside of work. Going to a bar after work is a good way to handle it. Well, my alcohol consumption has quadrupled in the last four months, I guess I still need to drink more. Will I get in trouble if everyone but one person is invited to the bar? 

Are all companies like this now? Does everyone get a participation ribbon? Time to go pound my head into the wall.

My son's in an ambulance again. . .

My first-born is studying to be an EMT. This is a good career choice for him, since, like his mother, he has the attention span of a gnat. He is most interested in ambulance crewing (is that the right term?) and that has to be a job free of monotony. Joe has been in ambulances before he started EMT school ~ not as a ride-along to shadow an Emergency Medical Technician, he just had a knack for near-death experiences. Yep, I'm that glib about it, mostly 'cause that keeps me from hyper-ventilating. I am prematurely grey due to a concerted effort by my children. Seriously. I've performed CPR & the Heimlich, pulled a glassy-eyed semi-conscious child from a pool, lost a six-year-old at the Minnesota State Fair (near the Grandstand, no less) and a ten-year-old at a bog. My boys are so good at dramatic injuries, illnesses and disappearances that my reaction to something as mundane as a broken bone is like, "We should probably get that set." I do still wig out at assaults, they may say they're fine. but. . .  (note: we don't live in a good neighborhood, they actually have been assaulted). But, otherwise, it's got to be big to get a reaction.

So, back to school, Joe has been in ambulances, urgent cares & emergency rooms in multiple states. Some people check out the museums, he checks out emergency care (which actually runs in the family, we had one trip with such bad food poisoning that my brother & I both hit two ERs). He had an idea what he'd be getting into, or more so than most, anyway.

He wasn't worried about blood & gore. He knew he could handle the curriculum. He survived me, so he knew he could handle panicky next-of-kin. What he was really worried about was babies. You see, he has not held a baby since he was four and his brother came along, and he doesn't remember that. He was scared that his first memory of holding a baby would be while it was dying. That's a reasonable fear, it could happen and what a horribly sad first-baby-moment.

He's done his first shift in an ambulance. He ended up holding a baby ~ but, not the way he feared. He helped deliver it. I think he's gonna like this EMT gig.

Everything in this house sucks except the vacuum!

That's a quote, from my mother-in-law, God bless her soul. Sue was a funny lady. It was their anniversary last week, and that got me thinking of her ~ they'd have been married 51 years if she were still alive. What reminded me of the vacuum quote was a fight with my own vacuum. It may be dying. Accidentally feeding it a cat toy probably didn't help. It kept turning off.

For some idiotic reason, I own an upright vacuum. I have maybe 100 square feet of carpet in my house, most of that a sculptured Berber, the best design ever for holding on to crap you're trying to suck up. Never, ever buy a sculptured Berber. Most of my vacuuming needs are in corners behind furniture, under furniture, the drapes, the ceiling ~ you know, places where cat fur and cobwebs collect. There is a hose on my vacuum, fully extended it's about six-and-a-half feet, I have eight foot ceilings. Vacuuming cobwebs means lifting my upright 18 inches off the floor. Assuming, of course, that I can get the vacuum directly beneath the cobweb. Usually, I lift the bloody thing at least three feet then stretch to the side. It's like yoga, with weights. And no grace.

Would you mess with this cat?
She'll protect us from the evil vacuum monster. 

So, I'm lugging the darn thing around the house, trying to clean up after the now-miserable cats. Peanut, in a rare show of common sense, high-tails it out of the room . . . oooh! I just got that expression! Shasta, on the other hand, follows me, hissing. I don't get it. She hates the vacuum with a passion unbound, but stays near it. Like Vito Corleone, she seems to believe in keeping her friends close, but her enemies closer.

I went into the bedroom and spotted a centipede (gads, I hate those, ewww) on the wall. "Aha!" I think, "Nothing can live in a vacuum!" So I lifted the vacuum up, reached across the dresser with the hose and sucked up that bug. Feeling proud of my martial skills, I carry that vacuum around sucking up cobwebs, until I realize that the uninhabitable vacuum probably refers to space, not a Dirt Devil.

I put the vacuum down. Not picking that thing up again. How long can a centipede live in a vacuum bag? Aw, crap! That cat toy was filled with nip. Do centipedes eat catnip? There's a lot of nip. The toy was at least as big as the bug. If it eats all that catnip, it will be huge. It'll be a jungle sized centipede. I really don't want to change that bag. The vacuum is back in the basement. It'll be awhile before I can touch it again. It was behaving badly. Maybe it's time to buy a new vacuum. We could just throw the old one out.

What About the Children?

Cue Helen Lovejoy, "Won't somebody please think of the children?" It's the latest attack in favor of the marriage amendment. Yes, in favor, remember, this amendment is to illegalize already-illegal same-sex marriage. Idiocracy in action. If it seems I hit this topic a lot, it's because it matters, and we're running out of time.

Apparently, the big risk in legalizing same-sex marriage is that children will be raised by someone other than their biological parents. It tells the children that one or both people who made them, doesn't love them enough to raise them. Children should only be raised by the mommy & daddy who made them.

BULLSHIT!!! The best way to be raised is by two people who love you & each other and that doesn't have a damn thing to do with genetics. Trust me, I'm an expert. My more-or-less-sane-and-well-adjusted children were raised by the couple who created them, who love them and love each other, for always (26 years and counting). It seems to have been good for them. But that is so not always true.

Minnesota for Marriage would have you believe I should have been raised by my sperm & egg donors. She was a teenager, he was married and a father. So, I guess, Minnesota for Marriage supports polygamy? Instead, I was adopted by a couple who couldn't have any more children, but wanted another. They're still in love after 57 years, and comparing me to "regular" kids, my mother once told me, "Their parents got stuck with them. We picked you out special." Mom, you totally rock.

Two boys, two girls, a boy & a girl? Who cares? If they love each other and the children, if they're committed to each other and the children, the children will be fine.

Let the constitution protect freedom. Vote NO! Love is love and it's what children need most.

An Open Letter to John Nienstedt

He's getting quite a few of these open letters lately, hope he appreciates the sentiment behind them. I am Catholic (as in, I drag my butt out of bed to attend Mass every week because Jesus is more important than sleep) and I have no problem with homosexuality. I find myself increasingly embarrassed by Archbishop Nienstedt and actually wondering when he'll start demanding that homosexuals wear pink triangles so good people can avoid them.

The truth is, the church has NO business in this matter. No one is trying to make any church perform what it considers inappropriate weddings. To sue the government over Obamacare then argue that her stance on secular marriage must be enforced by law makes a hypocrite of the Church. That makes me sad. So, Mr Nienstedt, I'd like to share a few quotes with you. All Biblical quotes are NIV.

This one is frequently used in marriage Masses, even though it is Ruth speaking to Naomi ~ but, oh no! Wouldn't that be the evil same-sex marriage? Ruth 1:16 ~ Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.

We all need to practice this more. No mention of only loving heteroes. John 13:34-35 ~ “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” 

Matthew 7:1 ~ "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. "

You say homosexual marriage is immoral and should be banned but, and this might be my favorite, it's from the then Bishop of New Ulm, John Clayton Nienstedt, "We cannot legislate morality."  

Tea with Tumnus

National Coming Out Day was this week (October 11). That occurred to me as I was walking down a hall at work and "Mark" was coming out of his office. It was hard not to chuckle out loud, as "Mark" is so far in the closet he's sipping tea with Tumnus. Everyone in the office, except "Mark," knows he's gay. It's a bit funny, but it's more sad. When I expressed confusion that an adult could not know he's gay when it is so obvious to everyone else, a friend explained that she was in her early thirties before she came out or even fully accepted her own lesbianism. On some level, she'd always known, but tried to convince herself otherwise, because gay is wrong. And that's the story all around. We expend a lot of energy telling everyone that it's wrong to be gay. By the way, National Depression Screening Day is also October 11 ~ I'm assuming that's intentional.

According to the Surgeon General, homosexual males are four times more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual counterparts. Four times. Four times. I don't know about you all, but I find that number horrifying. The Ruth Institute (big supporters of strait [pun intended] marriage) tries to claim that less than 1% of the population is truly gay since many gays have dated members of the opposite sex in their teens. This is true. Not necessarily because of heterosexual feelings, more because of a culture that tells them they are sick and perverted. Passing a constitutional amendment to permanently ban gay marriage will do wonders to reassure lonely teens of their importance to society. And why, if less than 1% of the population is gay, does the Ruth Institute even care? How much damage to traditional marriage will they do?

We. Must. Stop. Torturing. Children. We have to stop encouraging bullies ~ and if you think passing that consarned amendment won't encourage bullying, you're kidding yourself. Being gay is no more perverted than being straight. Gay or straight, tall or short, black or white, that's how God made us ~ and it's about time we accept that and let adults marry the adult of their choice: gay, straight, tall, short, black, white, whatever. Even the Catholic Church has declared homosexuality to be nature, not a choice. Why would God make someone want to "pair bond" with a specific gender, make them attracted to only one gender, then deny them the option of bonding because it's the wrong gender? It's really such a little thing, why not tell gay teens it's okay to marry who you really want. It's okay to love who you love. It's okay to be who you really are. 

Vote NO!

Quote of the day, and isn't this the love we want all our children to find: "Let me go with you. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people." Ruth 1:16 (GNT) That's right, an Old Testament quote from a woman to woman.