Busy, busy, busy . . .

I've been taken to task for hardly blogging at all lately. There's not much to say, except I'm so busy that I'm behind on work projects, behind on cleaning, behind on French, and behind on just about anything you can imagine. I've only kept up to date on meals.

I did half my civic duty last night by going to the caucus and being part of the straw poll. The caucus site was a complete madhouse - there were cars parked up and down every street, crowds trying to push through the halls, and a lack of enough sign-up sheets. Plus, those shoe boxes that passed as ballot boxes made me a bit nervous. At least Highland Park Jr. High was somewhat organized. It sounds like Macalester was just completely beyond the pale.

I left quickly(?) last night so I could get home and do some laundry for Winter Camping. I can't believe that I've got to spend the whole weekend doing that, and then turn around for five days of work followed immediately by a flight and five days of work. Blech.

At least I did ultimately figure out whom to support in the caucus. It involved reading a lot of candidate Issues pages and then figuring out what level of stupid everything is. I almost never think they say anything good. There's just stupid pointless and stupid dangerous. And the list is getting so long I may need a spreadsheet. Personally, I'm amazed that on the two biggest issues of the campaign--Iraq and the economy--I agree with 0% of the candidates. So much for voting my conscience. I also don't like to vote for the reasons that most people cite: change, experience, inspiration, looks. I also despise the coverage of elections:

Talking head 1: Let's cut to this 3 second quip that may determine the future of America.

Candidate on screen says something banal that somehow seems hilarious because a politician said it.

Talking head 2: Ha, ha, will that resonate with voters?

Talking head 1: Well, poll results show that Candidate A has rounded the final corner, but Candidate C is now a nose ahead of Candidate B. If Candidate D hadn't lost his jockey in the last turn, this could be a very different race. If Candidate B or C comes up with few more pithy and meaningless phrases, either might just win the triple crown.

Erin: Dammit Nick, I'm so sick of this shit.

Nick: I know. Let me make you dinner.

I guess it all means I'm screwed. Oh well. I'll go back to reading debate transcripts and complaining to Nick through the shower curtain every morning.