I voted. Oregon's the only state with exclusively mail-in ballots. That allows for a snack of pudding, for instance, while one peruses the voter guides put out by various organizations, then fill in a few bubbles feeling fully informed. We lead the nation in turnout - 80%+ of registered voters versus sixty-sumpin as a national average. Mine's in.

Last time I cast a ballot, it was in support of my father's bid for school board. I voted for both his opponents too, since there were three seats to fill. Somehow he still beat both of them.

I'm familiar with the candidates this time around too. With the Bus Project as a catalyst, I graduated from reading the WSJ and Slate punditry. Now I've met my candidates for US Senate, US Rep, Secretary of State, and Vice President. I've researched the issues and the candidates, and with all due respect to Cedar Mill Elementary's administration, this one's more important then my dad's 2003 race.

The shirt lies. I'm an independent voter. I've voted for Republicans in the past. I may vote Republican in the future. But I'm voting D down the line this time around. Not out of allegiance. Because each and every one of them is on a track to a better America.

Now it's just a matter of getting every other ballot in the state in. The Bus registered over 6000 new voters. We're turning them out, too. Wake me on November 5.

Snarked from Zhubin, who pilfered it from Scott:

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdgnieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid. Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer inwaht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? Yaeh, and I awlyas toghuht slpeling was ipmorantt!

Found a way to ruin a childhood: The Unfortunate Animal of the Month Club

Apparently North Korea's on my list of places to visit, thanks to the Ryugyong Hotel.

Carl Lewis... How could you? This is the worst music video ever.

And this is the best. Sarah McLachlan's 'World on Fire' ain't pretty, but it's worth the software download. Credit to Jen Howard's incomperable taste, and thanks to her for pointing it out to me.

Lach: It's a good thing you guys are a political organization.
Sarah: Why's that?
Lach: Because if you weren't, you'd be a cult.

I now know how to juggle. In every frickin' sense of the word. In the last few weeks, I've learned how to keep three balls in the air. I work two jobs... about a hundred hours a week. And I still refuse to more than allude to my social life using this medium. But rest assured: there's been juggling in all courts.

Doesn't look like it from this URL's vantage point, but I still get use out of those Dvorak typing skills. There's my continuing effort to get the Bus Project's site to a point where it doesn't embarrass me. Also been writing emails to 8000 people each week too. Sign up at busproject.org if you want to be on that list, or lemme know. I'm garrett@busproject.org. That newsletter's a snazzier barometer of what I've been up to than this recently stagnant word depository.

Back in my copier salesman days, I became intimately familiar with Portland. You and I drive by any law office in this town, I can likely tell you what brand multifunction printing device they use. The interesting bits fall outside of PDX's grey boxes and chain-burbs. I assure you, the town's not quite as bizarre as Chuck Palahniuk makes it out to be in the Fight Club author's travelogue of the finest city this side of Wellington. The 'Keep Portland Weird' bumper sticker has it about right. The center of goofy gravity would be the Hawthorne / Belmont districts.

And that's where I spend all but the few hours I sleep each night. I bring up the copier busnizziness because I feel its survey gives me authority to crown Belmont the crowning jewel of neighborhoods. These kooks bicycle instead of car. Fixed gear bikes, nonetheless. Burritos Against Bush for sale, which almost give my Chinese chow of choice competition. Not a Dominoes in sight, but I've had pizza for five of my last five meals. Belmontians get together as a community and paint their intersections. I walked into the lil' video rental store next door to the Bus office because I heard they rent vids for a buck. True. Also, it's not lil'. The Czechoslovakian Animation wall alone is more expansive than the art house shelves at a Blockbuster. They carry the knife that killed Drew Barrymore's Scream character. And the stabbin' blade from Hitchcock's 'Psycho'. And Julie Andrew's sundress from 'The Sound of Music'. Yeah, I found a home, even if I've only watched one complete movie in months.

In politics, we talk about regional polarization. Since 30 years ago, we're 9% more likely to live next to someone of a different race. However, we're 42% less likely to live next to a person who disagrees with us politically. Guilty as charged. I've surrounded myself with like minds, which explains my strong opinion of humanity (and my active efforts to register them all to vote). I see traits all around me, and take them as recommendations. Turns out I'm a dog person. And I like IPA as well as PBR. Mutual admiration facilitates the transmition of memes. And there's a good strain in this 'hood.

The only time I felt out of my element: While tabling for renewable energy last week, I noticed a high ratio of dyed blond hair, fake breasts, cigarettes and butt flickage. The offenders stopped to ask me where they could pick up a case of Miller for the two hour drive ahead of them. They didn't know the area, you see. Because they hail from Texas.

The minutes I spend writing this entry constitute my breath of air during the mad, breathless Bus Project dash to October 15, when Oregon's exclusively mail-in ballots hit houses. Then we pick up the pace until November 2, at which point our state candidates win their races. Our office, the casino: garish colors and distractions, no windows, no clocks, some nudity, and a whole lot on the line: after a decade of right-wing control in the Oregon Senate, we have the opportunity to shift the majority. This group of nutty kids with a biodiesel-fueled bus turned itself into a force that our former governor calls the most exciting thing to hit Oregon politics in 20 years. We engage youth in the political process. We educate voters about issues. And we get progressive candidates elected. Each weekend I'm with a crew of volunteers in a different corner of this square coastal state, talking to thousands of people about a particular candidate - one who's in a race that'll be decided by far fewer votes than that.

What about most of the office hours a week I put in? I find out which local strippers are unionized. I wander the streets in a 3XL t-shirt, a headband *and* a Jordan hat, recruiting hip-hop fans for our CD release party. Researched the cost of express shipping 500 of our 'Vote, F*cker' t-shirts to Nigeria, in case the Nigerian credit card cleared (it didn't, of course, but the UPS bill would be $3500). Setting up a wine and cheese debate regarding land-use policy. (We didn't use cheese because there was a hummus option. We didn't use wine because PBR's a sponsor.) I did some crowd control for Edwards (as an individual volunteer, of course - thank you, McCain-Feingold campaign finance reform bill). Had six social and two working options during the first presidential debate. (The winner: again, drinking PBR and hollering at the big screen in one of the many theater-pubs nearby. You think we'd share these venues with less fortunately endowed municipalities. Of course, Bush Sr. called us "Little Beirut", so it's obvious we've done well, and deserve all the theater-pubs we can fill.)

Perfect? Practically. Only regret: I sniffled when driving by Smith Rock without stopping to chalk up. Haven't climbed rock in many weeks. In fact, my last callus peeled off in the middle of that last paragraph. Went with a prayer. But I'm still winning more arm-wrestling tournaments than ever before. And Stoneworks will see me again Nov. 3. Seems I've scheduled a lot for that day, especially considering my anticipated state of "debilitatingly hung-over."