I write this from the comfort of my living room, where I’ve composed so many posts about ultimately inconsequential things. But tonight I’m writing about a day that makes me so much happier than any silly pop culture footnote ever could.
Sure, I’m looking at a late bedtime tonight — Santa Barbara polls just closed — but I’m very happy to put in the hours tonight.
I can’t help but to think about where I was four years ago — in an unfamiliar bar, watching states on a map inexplicably turn red. I was living in Washington D.C., however briefly, along with a few friends. I can hardly remember who I was sitting with. (Jill? Monique? Adam? Daniel? Who was there, aside from the tables of people sitting near me, looking sad? I can see those strangers so much more vividly now.) I remember walking home in the cold and feeling a sour feeling in my stomach because the nation had chosen to re-elect a man that I felt didn’t deserve to be president. And I can remember walking to (unpaid) work the next morning, and seeing people on the streets looking somber and not talking.
Tonight is different. I know where I am and I feel happy for the country. Months worth of tension paid of, it turns out, I can look to the next for years, at least, and feel hopeful.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I must try and pay attention to the Santa Barbara school board race.