November 4th

So I thought I would get to the polls early, maybe be very close to the front of the line today… As I got to my polling place at 5:45… I realized I was 35th in line. By the time the polls opened and our line shifted a little, there were 60 people, and by the time I left, there were at least another 60 waiting to be let it.

It took me 1 hour from the time I got in line to the time I left the polls. But I took the time today, and I went out of my way to Vote.

The only bad thing about my voting experience is that the woman running the paper ballots was not trained well. You the voter are supposed to feed the ballot. Because the ballots can be read the privacy shield is supposed to stay over your ballot as it is fed into the machine. Neither of these things were happening, and while I’m not ashamed of my votes, it still is pretty unsettling that I saw her eyes take note of my presidential vote. And I know it’s small, but I feel something has been taken away from me. My ballot is, no longer my own secret that no one else knows, that is lost…

Still, it was an amazing morning in spite of this.

One final thought, I doubt all the people in line with me today agree with me on who the next president should be. One thing is certain, I feel very lucky to have been able to vote in this election because regardless of how this swings, it means history.

First African American president, oldest first term president, first woman VP.

I know who I voted for (and so does that election judge). Still… I find myself in awe at the fact that I was lucky enough to be a part of this, lucky to be old enough. And I’m happy to say…

I voted in this inspireing, historical election.

I voted for history.

Simple pleasure

As I get older I’ve started to notice the things that make me a happier and better person. Like for instance, eating lunch outside on my own (without work people) helps me wind down and put work problems into perspective. I love the people I work with for the most part, and eating with them once in awhile is okay. But I’m much happier if I take some time to be by myself and just enjoy the breeze.

The more mature I get, the more I realize that spending time by myself doesn’t mean I don’t get along with people, or that I don’t have friends… Quite the opposet, of allows me to do those things.

Just some thoughts. But now, my lunch is over. I’ll return to work happy, refreshed, and happy that I’ve updated all of you. enjoy your day

Make-Up

Make-up

I love playing with fun colors. I like the way it makes my eyes look. I like wearing it on stage. But I really despise HAVING to wear it for work.

When I was a teen I used to feel terrible about my skin. I had bad acne, my cheeks were always red and I just generally felt bad about how I looked. I would cover up my skin every morning before going out of the house and felt naked when I wasn’t wearing make-up. It was more than just something to play with, it became like wearing clothes, necessity. I spent years never showing my bare skin to anyone, hiding myself, wearing a chemical mask day in and day out. It got so bad that my Mom would notice and ask what was wrong when I didn’t wear make-up.

I was 18 years old before my confidence was high enough to leave the house without make-up on and I now have pretty much stopped wearing make-up except for on stage and for special occasions. I don’t feel like I have to wear make-up to feel pretty, I don’t need it to feel clothed. For the most part I don’t feel like I need it. At least, I didn’t, until I started working full time.

When you are surrounded by women who all wear make-up, and when you’re the only one in the office not wearing it, when some rude co-worker mentions that you might want to think about wearing some make-up to work… Lets just say I got shamed into wearing it again. And it’s sad. Because I’m noticing myself wearing it more when I’m not at work as well. Noticing that I sometimes slip into those old feelings, not being pretty enough without it on. Noticing that my skin feels “naked” without it. It’s strange how something as wonderful as getting my first job and independence comes with this kind of cost.

It’s a shame that we teach our girls that to wear make-up, is to be put together. That to cover up your features is normal. That if you don’t do these things you are somehow less female, care less about yourself, etc. I admit I love the TLC show “What Not To Wear” I like how they teach people how to dress their bodies, I like the hair-cuts that Nick gives everyone. It always bothers me though, that the end of the episode is always a make-up lesson (but only if the participant is a woman). The whole episode these women are told that they are beautiful that they should be proud of their bodies and the way they look. These make-up lessons send the message of “You’re beautiful, but…”

There should never be a “but” after you’re beautiful. I just want to be beautiful, everyone else can keep their “but” to themselves.

On a lighter note, the front of my office building faces the west. And, if I’m lucky (“lucky” is up for interpretation here because it usually means I put in over-time) when I leave, I am greeted by the setting sun. The following is a picture of the sunset that greeted me this evening as I walked to my car.

Maybe I won’t wear make-up to work tomorrow.