I'd like to know where you got the notion to rock the boat

So Ned Lamont won the Democratic Primary. Celebratory celebrations ensued. Monday and Tuesday were, consequently, hella busy. In fact, on Monday I ate some Chinese food and on Tuesday I had half a bowl of cereal and half a cheeseburger. Today I had cereal. And that's all I've eaten for the past three days. I think I've permanently lost my appetite. So I was a good little worker - yesterday I woke up, voted, and then spent the day at the polls. It was hot. Then Ned Lamont showed up and we took pictures with him. Then his driver (Mark, we're BFFs) came over and borrowed our sunblock because he didn't want Ned to get burned. I went home halfway through the day to take a really cold shower because, you know, I was all hot and sweaty. Then there was more polling action. Katie, Alexis and I made friends with the nicest woman named Mrs. Purdie who said she's in love with us and took down our e-mail addresses so we can stay in touch. I like that part of campaigning - the people you meet. At 8 the polls closed and we sat around waiting for the numbers, then went to campaign headquarters where we sat around and waited for more numbers. After a brief stop home, we headed out to the Sheraton in Meriden (we = my entire family) for aforementioned celebratory celebrations. There was much screaming and cheering. My brother yelled "Preach it, brother Ned!" in the middle of Lamont's speech. And everyone insisted on cheering and clapping and chanting and stomping after nearly every sentence. It was actually tremendously exciting. My family has been involved in campaigns before and we always lose (see: mayoral race 2003). Winning feels good. In the process of winning, I picked up two new fathers. One is a law student at Yale (boo, hiss) who kept hitting on my mom at the polls, and then tracked her down at the Sheraton to hit on her some more. My second new father is a man my (real) father has worked with on these campaigns who, in his immense excitement, came over and told my father that he was "Crazy, fucking crazy!" and then kissed him smack on the lips. Then he hugged the rest of us. Sweaty. My face hurt from smiling so much, but not as much as my legs hurt from standing all day. We didn't get home until 2 am. And while we all know that I never sleep, I was so flipping tired at the early hour of 2 am that I was almost ashamed of myself.

That, my friends, marks my reemergence onto Raccoon Noises.