Ok, so hate‘s a strong word I do know this thanks to my mother however….
It’s an odd thing when you’ve been invited to a party, that you’ve accepted however you’re pretty sure you won’t have a good time at. Not because there’s an ex boyfriend attending who at the mere sight of makes you cringe with embarrassment over the fact that you once actually found them attractive.
Nor due to the fact that no matter how great the regularity of your Pilates has been of late and you believe it’s paying off, or that you’ve been the one with the upper hand in every relationship since, yet he still drags back memories of a seriously rock bottom moment in your life…but because everyone at this party wants something you do not want.
So I ask myself, why did I cry so loudly about wanting to be invited to an election night party? I’m now thinking it sounds about as much fun as spending Saturday night with my accountant working out my taxes for the year. No offence Shane!
Surrounded by my increasingly presumptuous and apparently ignorant cloud of attitude over this flipping election, I have discovered that I will be spending the vote count evening, enveloped by wine and cheese and people that hate the party I plan on placing a tick for.
And whilst we’re all clearly civilised people and it’s not likely going to end in a car-bombing incident as I make my getaway from the scene around midnight, it is certainly going to require a large dose of Botox to hide my frowning, as I have to listen to why their ticked bloke should really win.
As I was only my daily walk around the park this morning I mentioned to my regular strutting partner that I’d got myself into a pickle of a party invitation by just presuming we’d all be in the same boat about who should win. Suddenly as she swung her head in my direction, I became aware that I’d done it again. My sneaker buddy informs me she’s also on the other team and always has been.
Why is it I’ve found myself wondering why I am in the minority amongst so many of my friends? How can so many people I rate highly for intelligence and who are carving out the types of lifestyles that I also want to enjoy, be so completely on another team?
I’m sure more will come to me as the actual election day and party I don’t wish to go to rolls around, but one thing I do know is that I guess we all get to an age where we ask ourselves “why have I always voted for this party anyway?” Is it because I just always have because I grew up being told that’s just what we did? Yes that’s certainly a fact.
Although I was a fairly dramatic child, always either organising some sort of school production or trying to convince my teacher I was gifted at art, I didn’t come from a family who had much to do with the arts. As I’ve got older, without being conscious of it, I have accumulated friends who work in many creative fields.
I too have found myself steering myself more into artistic territories and now that I have arrived in this colourful zone, many of these friends believe the party I thought was on my side, is according to them, not the party that supports us.
I’ve often wondered whether swinging voters are well versed in politics, listening to policy makers more acutely, or if they’re just a bunch of serial procrastinators that flap in the breeze?
And then my walking buddy said something to me that resonated, “I don’t vote purely based on what’s best for me personally, I vote for what’s best overall for the country and all it’s people.”
Come September 7th, one policy I will run with is I don’t go to election parties based on whether I’ll have fun personally, I go to election parties to drink wine and eat cheese.