Last night I drank the beers I vowed that I would on election night - one for every Midwestern state that Kerry took. Minnesota was a nice winter ale, Wisconsin, a bass that I enjoyed while singing On Wisconsin! between sips, and Michigan, a Vienna malt whose last few inches (or the U.P., as I was referring to them) where hard to get down.
I only other thing I'll say in reference to the election is to share what I saw when driving home through my neighborhood's downtown on Wednesday evening: an older man surrounded by Kerry signs and a boat he'd painted yellow with the slogan "Bush's swiftboat assault" or something similar in black. The sight of him holding vigil and feeling strongly enough about it to deface his boat comforted me.
Tomorrow I'm helping a good friend move out of her house and into an apartment because she's separating from her husband. I feel so very sad for her. It is times like these, though - such as when I'm at parties where most of the guests bring along their kids - that I realize I am not a kid myself anymore. I feel caught sometimes between my go-out-and-do-crazy-things side and my church-going-hanging-out-with-people-with-kids side. I usually feel like an impostor with the older people... as if I'm playing adult.
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