"I voted."

Previously, events have conspired against me voting in New York state. But this time would be different I promised myself, fist shaking defiantly, and today I schlepped all the way back to the old neighborhood to do so (short subway ride + a mile and a half walk), all the way to my polling place at the corner of freaking Empire Boulevard and New York Avenue. The place was a bit of a clusterfuck as evidenced by the first long line I waited in follow by the second long line that I was directed too after I was told I was in the wrong line. But I did this happily, gladly, as did everyone else who smiled knowing that they were taking part in a historic event.

I amused myself in the interim by reading This Much I Know Is True and watching everyone fawn over the eight month old baby held by a lady two spots ahead of me in line. Even a New York Post photographer was there taking photos of New York City's lil' voters. The baby slept in his mother's arms as the camera clicked away.

It took an hour to get to the head of the line. The poll worker took my card and asked if I needed help using the machine. I'm a smart girl, I reasoned, but I didn't want any surprises when I went behind the curtain.

"Here, I'll show you," she said as she motioned me into the voting booth. Once behind the curtain, I saw what awaited my historic vote, some lumbering anachronism that dated from the Eisenhower era. Seriously.


I've voted in two presidential elections before. The first, the infamous 2000 election, I voted in Maryland and the machine was a lever that punched holes into a card. Many hanging chads later, Maryland adopted the touch screen voting machines for the 2004 election. Easy breezy. But this thing, this sprawling contraption of metal nobs and switches had all the technological sophistication of a circa World War II computer.

Ummmmm . . .

He's to hoping I did it correctly! Go Obama!