November 5th, 2002

JOY

19th Amendment

Aside from the wide selections of roasted chicken joints, kebab houses, and the extra-large Goya and cellophane noodle sections in the supermarket, one of the benefits of living in a zip code with a high illegal immigrant population is that there was barely a soul in the voting station this morning. I walked in, gave my name, walked in the booth and right back out. It took me longer to read the ballot than it took me to get into the booth. And I could have walked to the place it was so close to my apartment.

I even had time to get my car inspected and still got into work in what would not raise an eyebrow having alerted my supervisor that I may be "a bit tardy" today.

This is a particularly proud day for me as even though I have been eligible to vote for 7 years now, this is my first time voting. Never before had I been living in the state that I had been registered to vote in. I display my "My Vote Counted" sticker with pride. Ms. B. Anthony would be delighted.
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    pleased pleased
JOY

Bad Candy

While the only confirmed source of Diet Vanilla Coke in the Washington DC metropolitan area, the CVS on 14th St. and Thomas Circle is one bipolar little bastard. It often reeks of urine, however, one checkout girl in particular likes to show me photographs from whatever fashion magazine she's reading to crack some joke about a model's appearance (today it was to say one model's hair looked like fire, ala the bad guy in the Disney Hurcules movie that I haven't seen); the service is often fast, but I have been nearly punched out for trying to explain to another customer that the rest of the people on line and I were doing the one-line-two-registers waiting scheme; it is tremendously convenient for picking up Alka Seltzer Morning Relief for when I'm sick or Halls Vitamin C drops when I'm really sick, it's hard to leave the place without being shaken down by a local street-dweller.

Today as I stepped in for my Diet Vanilla Coke, I passed the 50% off Halloween candy aisle and picked up a bag of Halloween-colored M&M's for $1.50, excited for a post-lunch mouthful of chocolatey goodness. I opened the bag not to find shiny black and orange candies, but to find crushed and dusty stale-chocolate smelling abominations. Clearly this bag was left over from last year, having survived this summer's three air conditioner breakdowns and a year in storage. Needless to say, I am disappointed.
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    disappointed disappointed