May you either write with the right or scribble with the left, everyone had their chance to vote yesterday using whatever hand they had open at the moment (twee-heee!). I promptly woke up at 8:30 after dealing with strange house apartment business and got my newsie gear on and ran down to my voting station or also known as: J M D Public School. On arriving, I strolled up towards the two pleasant women behind the voting poll desk, slammed my hands down on the table and grinned straight at them. Speaking quickly, I greeted them by saying, “Ladies- good to see you again!”
The look back at me in wonder.
“What? Don’t you remember me?” I ask them. “It has only been what? 18 months??”
They had a good chuckle, I did my part, then left to get a cup of Gano at Express Yourself Café. It was a dazzling morning, the sun is high, the sky is clear, stars will be out tonight- call all your friends, let everybody know…

ON WITH THE MAYHEM!
… And we did know. This is one of the singular most important evenings in a young journalists life. It’s much like a working circa of people all flying in together to get the story, get the opinions, and soon there is so much information coming in your mind starts to go numb. It doesn’t help either when the work load piles on and you have to make healthy lifestyle choices, muddle around in relationships briefly now and then when people visit, keep your mind progressing with a skill or a talent, mentoring, choices… A horrible sinking pain drains you out by the end of the day, but you still get the work done. However if they forget it tomorrow, it does not matter. You got the job done and you move onto the next taking what you learned or experienced from the last story.
It is an itch; every group has one. Think unifying factor among the working for positive note.
Back at my desk, ashtray blooming, cups and pencils sprouting up, cat pulling the sweatercoat over the broken computer chair (old unresolved habit of breaking furniture through inappropriate use), I get back in the swing. My assistant editor assigns me to cover the Green Party Election and I am on the phone setting up my evening plans. Sure, your thinking, “Why not go cover Garth or Carr?” I didn’t get assigned those and my job is to do or don’t. You get it and you go with it and you got to give it your best shot no matter what. Helps if you are amused, stay positive with it. All in good time.
I must have rang Kyle’s doorbell twice before he answered it. Dr. Kyle Grice, leader for the Halton Green party, very well spoken man for his first year. He had a great team this year as well. The political teams I liked this year had visibly strong teamwork within them which is the true sign of success. The Green party of Halton had a great Team, some of which who I knew in the community already, a great little grassroots organization. Garth had a great team too- easy to relate with, cheerful and dedicated. For any that met them this year they made an impression on the community with such polarizing results that still felt successful.
One of my friends works for the Green party and in the evening, after chatting over the TV as the polls rolled in, he wanted to go to the Elections Canada office in Milton to get more accurate results (Or in my line of work, we sometimes refer to this “step-out” as a chance for a cigarette). I had a challenge of an idea in my head and I proposed it. “K.C,” I ask. “Can we stop by Garth’s party so we can say ‘congratulations’?”

THE ELECTIONS-CANADA WEDDING CRASHERS
“When we get back, remember to back out of this driveway,” KC told me.
There were a row of cars surrounding the building. It’s a hot night in Milton when the party is for the winning MP. We stroll up to the Hotel and Peter who is putting his camera away looks up and sees me. He smiles, starts laughing, “What are you doing here, kid?”
Peter always has a great personality. I smile back, “Were here to congratulate Garth, can you take our picture, Peter, Please?”
Not even stopping, Peter whips out the camera, having fun, he snaps off a million pictures (snapsnapsnapsnapsnap) like a firecracker, people look up and bend their necks, whats going on? “AW I totally blew you away,” Peter yells.
Photo’s not important, well liked, but we have a job to do- our mission. OH yes… must finish the job. I dart off into the kitchen, KC following right behind me. “I just had a sudden urge for a slice of pie…”
Manovering, slowly, have the heels on, good suit, hairs already fallen out, but you have one chance to do this cause he’s a busy man. We find Garth and his lovely wife in a circle of people, shaking hands thanking everyone. They look very well. I look somewhat breezed (curse the weather). I walk up to Garth and shake his hand, “Garth! Congradulations!”
Garth turns and shakes my hand as people push up together for a photo, I cletch the lid of the Styrofoam container and the lip pops open in that moment, cameras all going off, snack on full display, Garth smiling, AnnK making the best attempt at a very awkard moment in a sea of people as the flashing of lights fire off.
“Come on, you dance don’t you?” I say grabing KC’s arm and firing towards the dance floor.
“I don’t know- there are TV cameras all over this place,” He says. “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”
We look around the mess of people in the hall.
There is a full band, but no one dancing. What a conservative room it was… everyone was acting very conservative…
I throw my coat off and wait. KC turns back slightly, says, “Alright they have them off- start now!” and we hit the floor. I wonder how do you dance conservative. I do my best to keep it conservative.
Were smiling, the room is smiling, it’s going to be a party for the next 5 years….
We tear out, walking quickly towards the car, pie in hand. “Don’t forget to put the car in reverse when we get out of here,” I say.

AND THUS MY EVENING BEGINS
Were back at Kyle’s house. Everyone is a bit worn out, close to midnight. This is where I sit down and have my chat with Kyle in a very relaxed and humble way. I will post that after it has gone to print here since it is quite interesting in my opinion.

Roaring down the road back to my house, the sky is clear, brilliant. The perfect winter evening. Heh, told you to call all your friends…
When you get home from a day like that, you really show it. My hair out of place, my clothes used down, feet dragging- this is the state of earthbound zombie drag. Hard, heavy, but demanding, shaking off a tinge of adrenalin.
Away in the night I write. I go over my notes with highlighter, cat is pulling at socks, painting glaring at you in the face, chest hurting. You must get this done, that is the demand of the news. However, I pass out afterwards on the chair with a painting in my hands, brushes at the floor. Painting has become the all driving addicted need and never stratified fully unless progress is made in some manner of fashion.
I close my eyes and drift off for 4 hours of dull, bland sleep.

THE SIX O CLOCK BURN
Awake at the six o clock burn on press day is rough. I burned an entire meal passing out in my chair at my desk. JR banged on my door, informing me I was burning the house down. Time for beak, time to paint.
Progress is being made.