Fine Chicago Traditions

We woke up early today, by which I mean we actually got up when the alarm went off instead of hitting snooze for an hour. What's the big deal?

Super Fat Tuesday! Mardi Gras Superr!

We slogged through the ice and oceans of cold water on the Chicago streets to reach our polling place in the library, where we were promptly ignored until K tried to approach what turned out to be the wrong part of the table. After getting yelled at by a guy who had nothing better to do on a workday than put on a sweater and sit behind a folding table, we registered ourselves.

In the world's most powerful democracy, we uncapped our markers and filled in the little arrows for our candidates. We then inserted our paper ballots into the paper shredder manned by a bored teenager trying to beef up his college applications with "volunteer experience."

Hours later, I sat in the Law School atrium watching election returns on a big screen, eating King Cake and drinking Corona while listening to Kanye West on my iPod and reading in the Atlantic about how the current administration has left one huge mess for whoever survives tonight and makes it alive into November.

Now we're home, sobering up and full of sugar, watching CNN en Espanol pontificate on the elections and listening to a very confused Latina trying to translate Mike Huckabee's folksy sayings into Spanish.

Truly a wonderful day, well worth waking up on time for.