On this day of important things, I want to say things that are not important. And by ‘not important,’ I mean that I had the urge to write something, came here to my blog two seconds later and started typing. I have no idea what I am about to say, and that should give you some idea of where my head is at right now. I guess you’ve been warned?

The election is making me all energized and stuff. It’s reminding me how weird it feels to be an adult, and how awesome it felt the last time around in 2008 when things seemed so awesome and everybody was like, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED. That was before we realized Obama was just a man who puts his damn pants on one leg at a time. Anyway, back to the exciting. I’m always going to count 2008 as my first election because even though I voted in 2004, that was back before my brain realized it could have thoughts of its own. It’s kind of weird how you listen to your parents about stuff like this. They’re like, THIS IS RIGHT, and you’re like, OKAY, PARENTS. I BELIEVE YOU BECAUSE YOU CREATED ME PHYSICALLY AND SPIRITUALLY AND CLOTHED AND FED ME AND PROVIDED FOR MY BOOK AND ICE CREAM NEEDS FOR 18+ YEARS AND EVERYTHING YOU SAY IS THE TRUTH.

I realize that most people have this sort of realization a little earlier than I did, but I had a good relationship with my parents as an adolescent. I never rebelled, never partied, never caused any trouble. I was the perfect child and they were goddamned spoiled. When I have kids I want them to be Ashley Jr.’s. I will be sad for their lack of social life and how they’re losers until the age of 19 and everything, but the parent part of me will be all happy because loser kids who do what they’re told don’t get into much trouble. Or any, really. The most trouble I got into in high school was for totalling my car, and even then it was more like, we acknowledge that you are 16 and an idiot, and even though we are disappointed in you, we cannot logically punish you for this. The only rebellion I ever committed against my parents was watching The X-Files and Friends, even though they came from the Devil and were corrupting my soul.

But my point is that I was basically a parrot in 2004. My parents told me I was one thing, and I believed them. The next year, when I realized that basically my entire belief system meant that I was actually an evil liberal nutcase (a belief system, I would like to note, instilled in me ironically by the same parents who use the term liberal like it was a swear).

So 2008. Yeah. Not sure where I’m going with this.

One time when I was visiting her, my mom woke me up at 6:30 AM just to ask me why my generation was so jaded, why none of us were patriotic.  I can’t seem to make her understand that patriotism shouldn’t have to mean that you never question what you’re told. But my mom is a sweet and innocent flower who has a hard time seeing beyond appearances. She wants to believe that people tell the truth, and that there reasons for saying things are genuine, because that’s how she would be if she were in their place. Maybe I’ve gone too far in the other direction — thinking that everything that comes out of a politician’s mouth is a half-truth, even from the ones I vote for and support.

Is it weird to admit that I have gotten most of my in depth election talk from John Scalzi? Love that guy. (You guys have seen this, right? I typed ‘love that guy’ and then my mind immediately went to, “Lick Matt’s face – love that guy.”)

This post has become useless very fast so instead of typing more word vomit, I am going to stop tying word vomit and go order some fucking Thai food, turn on Comedy Central, and go pull out some or all of my hairs instead.

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