Day 307- It's called a break-up because it's broken

Dear Mr. President,

So this morning my promised renewal of hope and optimism in the face of setbacks has not emerged. It could be that the demands of my school schedule this week have made "morning" a purely sunlight-relative term with little correlation to actual sleep. It could be the lingering questions as ballots are slowly processed in my home state. It could be denial, a malaise delaying the inevitable grief I can't yet allow myself to feel the full force of. I did like your speech today, and I thought you made several important points about the need to fundamentally change parts of our governing system.

I'm sure I won't be the first, last or most important person to say this, but I don't think this election means you should back down. Your agenda shouldn't change, shouldn't be compromised and should not be tempered. (Which is not say that compromise won't eventually be necessary.) Democrats should not give up on comprehensive energy, immigration, campaign finance and tax reform. For one thing, conceding too much at this point will only further weaken our positions once legislative battles really get underway. For another thing, i still think we're right; our policies are better, and our plan for America is the best one. Refusing to compromise our fundamental values is the only way to ensure that losing the house doesn't translate into losing the White House. This isn't to say that we shouldn't work with the Republican leadership, only that we should not be meek about demonstrating our goals and ideals to the American people.

A friend compared the way we feel this morning to the way we feel after a bad breakup. I think his metaphor is an apt one. After a break-up, you may re-examine your choices and your mistakes in the course of a relationship, but you don't change your identity in hopes that you won't get dumped again. Democrats need to work on our communication skills, our self-confidence, our willingness to assert ourselves. We might need to lose 5 lbs and reconsider our highlight strategy. Our wardrobe could probably use an update. But we do not change who we are, fundamentally. The things we believe, the things we value, all of the things that make us different from the opposition, those should not change. In the meantime, if you want to stay in bed and watch soap operas while eating chocolate ice cream in your pajamas for a day or so, well, you do whatever it takes to get through this. I know I will.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 306- Powerless

or The end of the world as we know it.

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight the lights went out for two blocks. Our street, usually basking in the permanent glow of Seattle's urban heart, was plunged into unnatural darkness. My roommates lit candles and curled up under blankets in the central part of our apartment. For a moment we were reminded of how helpless we can be without the devices we've come to rely on.

Yes, I'm stalling, hoping to find a way to make this a more hopeful letter. I'd like to say that we learned an important lesson about unplugging, slowing down, connecting with the people we love or finding ways to be resourceful. We didn't. Desperate to follow election results and finish my last midterm, I fled to the familiar safety of light, heat and free WiFi. My roommates toughed out a half-hour of darkness and now we're all back to blogging, movie-watching and the more effective (if less-flattering) overhead lights.

We've lost the House. At home, Washington state residents have voted overwhelmingly to defeat an income tax measure that would have helped education and health programs. Rick Larsen and Patty Murray are still fighting close races that may not be called before the night's end. Rand Paul is in. Russ Feingold is out. California's proposition 19 is defeated. Across the country, small pockets of hope (Christine O'Donnell and Meg Whitman will not win their races) fail to dispel the gloom and powerlessness afflicting those of us who kept the faith despite every indication that we'd face a night like this one.

I know it isn't the end of the world; disappointment tends to leave me with more a flair for the dramatic than is perhaps healthy. But, as I struggle to return my attention to the 7th century nomads of the turkic empires, I'm going to allow myself this night to mourn our losses, to despair at the ignorance, short-sightedness and naked, pointless rage that led to these results. Tomorrow it will all be back in perspective and I will be hopeful and optimistic again. Tomorrow I will start lighting candles and hope that the factionalized democrats come back together, if only for the sake of warmth. Tomorrow I will worry about 2012.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 305-Man up for Midterms

Dear Mr. President,

I think if I read one more poll I will actually lose my mind. Whatever happens tomorrow is set in motion, and sadly I'm swamped with an entirely different kind of midterms. I can't read any more analysis. I can't consider any more predictions. If another Dino Rossi pop-up ad starts talking to me while I post this entry I will scream.

We're all going to get out of bed on Wednesday and go to work or school or breakfast. We will get through tomorrow and we will live with the outcome, no matter what. Or, at least, this is what I'm telling myself. Because Nate Silver might love numbers and polls and hypotheticals but he's making me crazy tonight. And the Huffington Post might be obsessed with absurd weather/natural disaster metaphors, but it won't do any good at this point. The most I can hope for tomorrow, is what my friend Ralph reminded me of earlier: that CNN has hologram people. Because an election night without hologram people on CNN is just not enough for me any more.

Seriously though, I've got essays to write and very little sleep in my near future or recent past. If any one who reads this hasn't voted yet, do so. (Also, why are you reading a political blog if you don't vote?) If you want my suggestions on who to vote for in Washington State, if you're in any way ambivalent about the Senate race, or if you actually don't care, please vote for Patty Murray. She's excellent, and Dino Rossi eats puppies and cheats on his taxes. If you're reading from out of state, I'm sorry you don't live somewhere cool enough to have mail-in elections, but don't let the weather, the lines at the polls, the annoying political ads, errands or apathy stop you from voting. Man up, America, and get out that vote.

Mr. President, I hope that we both survive our respective midterms tomorrow without too much of the suffering every one seems to be anticipating. Wednesday will come for all of us, and I think we'll probably make it there in one piece.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey