I Can Abbreviate "Main Line" With my Fingers

It's four in the morning and frankly, you people haven't left enough comments to warrant much of an update. You understand that I measure your love for me in number of comments left, right?

I had a pretty Main Line day, including a game of beer pong while Dispatch played in the background, those tree-hugging honky-ass hippies. I found myself mired in the same drama I remember from high school, only now it seems hilarious and not CRUSHINGLY LIFE-CHANGING IMPORTANT ARRRR. Something about the birthday boy doesn't want me at his party, and that I apparently am kind of a cock sometimes. Also everyone thought I had long been hooking up with this friend of mine, which makes me think maybe I could/should have been doing so. And then, in the middle of all this high school nonsense, I met this girl who wanted to talk to me about Don DeLillo and how Invisible Man is seriously fucking awesome and who displayed a proper level of awe when somehow (don't ask me!), McSweeney's came into the discussion. It was an odd little juxtaposition of where I'm at now compared with where I was.

I like myself a lot better now.



I really hope nobody was expecting an in-depth examination of my work field a la Graeme or Mike Dineen. Not that I've been intentionally leaving things out, but because I don't have any insight on the American political/electoral system that I didn't have before. I got called a commie for saying that maybe God wouldn't hate universal health care, and called in sick two days in a row. I wish I was getting my hands dirty dealing with real issues, but that's really not what campaigning's about. It seems so far to be about money above all else, not that I'm idealistic enough to be surprised or offended by that. I got promoted to Field Manager already, which means my pay is slightly less shitty and I have to lead someone even less experienced than myself around some days. I'm really digging for work-related stuff to talk about but it's really not that interesting. If anybody wants to COMMENT and ask a QUESTION because I haven't even really explained what I do all day, I'll answer.

PS: Who else thinks Nithya needs a goddamn blog right now?

Okay well it's Monday night, and seriously I'm too exhausted to write a real entry. If you include transportation, and I do, I work from 12:30 to midnight. It's pretty hard work, really. I'm walking around, knocking on people's doors, for about five hours a day in steaming hot weather, and I'm feeling beat up by the end. Anyway, here are some hints I've learned to tell Democrats from Republicans just by the outside of their houses.

DEMOCRAT
Mezuzah or anything indicating that JEWS BE INSIDE!
Unkempt lawn (I've been told this only works in the rich-ass suburbs where there's no conservative white trash)
Non-bred animals (mutt dogs, for instance)
Hybrid car
Inhabitants prone to verbose abuse

REPUBLICAN
Pineapple flags, doormats, or wall hangings. No clue why, but this one's just about 100%. Pineapple doormats? What is this shit?
SUVs
Sterile-type front lawn (perfectly sheared grass of a delicate emerald shade, few large shrubs or plants)
Lawn gnomes
Highly polite inhabitants

Also, sorry to disappoint if anybody thought I was doing anything exciting, important, or honestly all that interesting this summer. This job doesn't give me the opportunity to break into carefully-crafted monologues on justice and peace and freedom and AMERICA! Nor do I get to make any decisions about anything, or have any real impact on the American political system. I do talk about politics for eight hours a day, although not from a perspective all that different from what I had before this job. Canvassing works just about the way I thought it would, really, and the DNC isn't anything surprising, although it is way bigger than I expected. I found that if you think Bush-bashing is as embarassing and sort of dangerous as I do, you'll be far in the minority among DNCers. I found that there are a surprising amount of dudebrahs working for the DNC, and few hipsterfags. I found that I am not the only employee of the DNC who is not a registered member of the party, not by a long shot. I found that Republicans are by the by much nicer than Democrats, even when dealing with somebody who just told them "Our country can't handle eight more years of failed leadership and failed policies" before realizing they've got a fucking pineapple flag. And mostly, I found that full-time work is very little fun. I'm falling behind on my internet knowledge, it's depressing.

Also Philly maybe is kind of cool. And even pretty in parts.

My cat's name is Tasha but I say "Tashiiii" and make approving cat-like noises at her

This is eventually going to be a painfully superior account of my job working for the 2008 Democratic presidential campaign, but I haven't started yet so I'm going to talk about my cats and maybe give out some hot fashion tips.

HEY GUYZ, HERE'S A PICTURE OF MY CAT ^_^

My job title is "Official Sellout and Shill for Motherfucking Howard Fucking Dean," and I'll be taking his message to the masses.  The masses, by the way, are not going to be pleased with me.  I tried to get a more, you know, indoor type job, but they just ignored the line on my resume that reads "WRITERMAN 100% Super A+++!"  They also ignored my total lack of political experience or, honestly, interest, so I guess I'll take it.  Now I'm sitting in my suburban basement, reading some pamphlets on Dean's exciting new plans for fucking up the Democratic Party, and realizing that inner-city canvassing probably won't be like The West Wing.  The people I'm working with aren't nearly as attractive or witty as I'd expected, and I've yet to be introduced to the President, Speaker, or even a measly Supreme Court Justice.  There's like twelve of them, not one can spare a weekend to come up and say hi?

Fashion tips to follow!