I managed to vote this morning, with 75% of my children. I was offered both the Republican and Democrat “sample ballots” and kindly declined – I won’t waste paper, I can read and determine my own choices, and I didn’t have extra hands anyway. Our line wasn’t long at all, but the parking lot was full. I’m really glad to see such an impressive voter turnout, I just wish it was always like this.

So, we get inside and I’m asked if I want a paper ballot or if I want the touch screens. Then I’m told the line is longer for the touch screens. The election official laughs as I glance at my kids and she hands me a paper ballot. Yes, it would be cool to touch a screen to vote, even if I believed they were tamper-proof, but I’m sure one of my kids would take the opportunity to cast his own vote while I’m distracted by the others. Thank you for the paper ballot, election official, its good to know you feel my pain.

We all go and sit down to vote – there isn’t a privacy screen or anything, just a row of tables set up with black felt tip pens. There is an anticipation I cannot explain about election day. Maybe its the hope that things will change for the better, guided by the hopes of millions of people. Can that community of change really make a difference? Can we collectively guide our country, our world, into a better place? That is where “hope” really comes in. Never pin your hopes on one person – you’re setting them up for a huge fall.

I immediately skipped the Presidential vote section. I voted for my Senator, my Representative and a few local initiatives that require money. I’m excited to see how the Senate and House races end up, actually, but they seem to pale in comparison to the Presidential vote. I flip the ballot back to the front and I read my choices. Democrat, Republican, Green, Independent, Libertarian and one that I remember only as “Super Conservative.” I choke up a little bit and the enormity of the decision I’m about to make, because I clearly take myself very seriously, and I try to think about what really matters to me. Do I vote for someone just because its technically a vote against another candidate?

Hello, passive aggressive Melia, nice to see you again.

I literally sit for 5 minutes running debates, scandals and SNL skits through my head. I thought about all of the arguments against and for the chosen ones. I didn’t choose ANY of them to be on the ballot. I wasn’t allowed to participate in that part of the process, since I’m registered as “Independent.” What if I vote my heart, and the candidate I disagree with the most wins? WILL I BE RESPONSIBLE FOR 4 MORE YEARS OF CORPORATE GOVERNMENT? Will I be responsible for women losing their right to determine the fate of their own bodies?

Maybe I should have voted for Nader, but I didn’t. I seriously considered McKinney, also. I can’t vote for McCain/Palin and I won’t list my reasons. Suffice it to say, I’m not voting via vagina this year. Do I vote for Obama? His name sparkles on the ballot… he is the one we’ve all been waiting for, right? My pen moves in that direction and… I stop.

I can’t vote for Obama. My gut is screaming, “NO!” to me. I just can’t do it. I won’t be part of it. He’s a great guy, I’m sure, but he’s not my candidate. He is not my heart.

I wrote in a name. End of story.

Congrats to the winner, but I didn’t vote for you. You see, being a Maverick isn’t just a slogan, its a way of life, and by voting for “none of the above,” I’m truly hoping for Change.