Ballot

I've seldom felt more sprightly before the sun came up, but I couldn't help being excited to cast my vote among the nearly 117 million nationwide. I hit the line at 6:55 am and the anticipatory wait only made me more enthusiastic. No one should be that lively while waiting in the line. It's obnoxious.

I sanctimoniously signed my name on the blue paper, right above the bar code. With that they gave me a blue card with an American seal and a small, square, gold computer chip in the corner. I held it tight for the last few minutes before I slowly inserted it into the electronic ballot box.

The first question irked me, but it was refreshing to feel like I was taking some sort of test, but there wasn't a wrong answer. That's one of the best parts of America. No one has a corner on good ideas, and no one's are necessarily right or wrong. They just are. And with those ideas we move forward as a society and learn to knit our ideas together in an attempt to eventually lift ourselves and others upwards.

It was absolutely thrilling. I couldn't stop smiling after for two reasons: a) because I was exercising a right that was fought for, one that means I am an American and that my voice matters and b) that my voice really doesn't matter in Utah, and I just found that to be paradoxically hilarious.