I had an unusual and inspiring election day experience.
A good friend of mine finds herself in the hospital, suffering from mysterious, dangerous circulatory weirdness, and needing transfusions and stacks of tests. She was determined to vote, and her son put a whole lot of miles on their car making sure that she could.
I voted, of course; the normal way, in a middle school cafeteria on a plastic-card-type machine. And I must say I felt very proud of my husband and the other poll workers. They work an endless day - he's still there! At 9:53! Since 5:30 this morning! and greet, instruct, and check on every single person who comes to vote. And were charming and friendly (and hopped up on sugar).
But I dropped by my friend's hospital room in the afternoon, and I happened to be there as she filled out her paper ballot. I even took pictures - and, in fact, I posted a few on the NY Times Polling Place Photo Project page. Which is pretty f-in' cool, because it makes it look exactly like they published my photo in the New York Times. (Yes, please, I would like that very much.)