We live in a blue city in a blue state, so all day on Election Day there's no way to know what's going on. We call friends, we say what do you know, what do you hear. No one ever knows anything, we learned this in 2004 when all of our most politically-connected friends assured us at mid-day that Kerry had won, that Ohio was ours. But it's 2006, two years have passed, and maybe there's something hopeful out there. There are all these scary new polls in the morning papers, everything is allegedly tightening. Is it true? What does it mean? We have no idea because, as I say, we live in a blue city in a blue state. We know only each other. How could any of us have a clue whether Bush has "energized his base." We don't know a single human being who's part of the Bush base.

The suspense is agonizing. We decide to go to a movie. We will go to a movie while the day is light and full of mystery, and emerge when it's dark and resolved.

When the movie is over, we get into the car and turn on the radio. Why we hope to hear anything on the radio I don't know. These days you can't find out anything at all on the radio when it comes to breaking news. But that's a subject for another time.

When we get home, we turn on MSNBC. It's 6 o'clock in California. The polls are closed in the East. But what's happening? It seems impossible to know, although the people on television clearly know something. They just aren't going to tell us what it is. We assume that the Democrats have won the House and not the Senate. But by how much? Tell us, guys. Give us a guess. No. They aren't going to. They're just going to keep it to themselves. This seems unfair, even though I understand they're doing it because they don't want to be accused of calling the election too soon. Still, what's happening? The word "tsunami" is being used. Is that what's happening? A tsunami? A big Democratic victory? I can never get over the fact that there was an actual tsunami, not so long ago, and thousands of people died, and the only evidence that it actually happened is a new vocabulary word that is purely metaphorical and has nothing whatsoever to do with the reality of that recent catastrophe and everything to do with the warm and fuzzy feeling television news people seem to get on their faces when the word "tsunami" trips off their tongues.

Finally, a prediction. The Democrats have won the House. By at least 28 votes, give or take ten if you believe MSNBC, or by a few votes, if you believe CNN. I'm going with MSNBC.

And now, here's Nancy Pelosi. I'm proud of Nancy Pelosi. It can't have been easy being Nancy Pelosi these last few months, it can't have been easy being the unlikely Willie Horton of this ugly campaign. At first I was puzzled that the Republicans kept dragging her name into this. I mean, I get it: San Francisco, liberal, in favor of gay marriage, etc., but it seemed so lame. Then I realized that whatever it meant, an attack on Nancy Pelosi was an attack on me - by which I don't mean, on me, literally; obviously I don't mean me, literally; I mean, on women like me, liberal women who dye their hair. Now, there she is, there's Nancy at the podium, and she's won. She will be the first woman to be Speaker of the House. It's great news. It's thrilling. If only she could speak in public.

I am in love with Chris Matthews. That's just the truth. I have been for a while. It's going to be hell tomorrow when he won't be on television all day long and I will have to go into withdrawal.

Here's Hillary. I expected her to win by over 70 per cent but she hasn't. But this is her moment to catch the wind, to become the next president. Instead, she's flat, mid-Western, uninspiring. She's talking about how America has chosen to vote for a vital, energized center. Is that going to be the story? I hope not. What Hillary Clinton thinks of as the vital center is something I think of as a big bland Clintonian middle.

Harold Ford has lost. He concedes victory without bitterness, although God knows he's entitled. He says he loves his country more than he loves its electoral process. Amen, Harold. Now I see why everyone liked Harold Ford so much. Up until this moment, though, I have to say I didn't quite get it.

I don't mean to be sexist about Katie Couric. I think she's brilliantly talented and totally appealing. Every time I turn her on I want to be able to evaluate how she's doing, and I want to be hopeful and positive. But it's impossible for me to make any sort of evaluation at all about her, BECAUSE I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW BAD HER MAKEUP IS. Tonight I can see she's wearing too much eyeliner and too much rouge. Here's a rule about anchor people: you should not be able to see their makeup. It's distracting. It's so distracting that it's not even my fault that I see it. So there. Fix this, Katie.

And so the Democrats have won three seats in the Senate. The other three seem very unlikely. In Virginia, George Allen leads Jim Webb by about 12,000 votes with almost all the votes counted. Montana is just a big empty void; in fact, it seems as if not one vote has been counted, much less cast, in that state. And Claire McCaskill is behind by a few thousand votes in Missouri. Where is she behind? Tell us, guys. What happened to the good old days when we knew where the votes were that were still to be counted? Are they urban votes or rural votes? Are they in St. Louis? Please tell us they're in St. Louis. What's happening?

On CNN, Jeff Greenfield has fallen in love with a delicious scenario. It's so delicious that he can't help saying it aloud, and as a result, I now know something it seems to me I would not necessarily know if it weren't part of his hypothetical scenario which he is under a compulsion to share. Here's Jeff's scenario: Montana and Missouri's Senate seats will go Democratic, and the election in the state of Virginia, between Allen and Webb, will be decided by a recount. And then, in all probability, it will be decided in court, by lawyers. Keith Olbermann is saying that you didn't see any lawyers at the end of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. (This reminds me that I may be in love with Keith Olbermann too.) In any case, Greenfield and Olbermann, on their separate channels, are so captivated by this possible scenario - it's 2000, it's déjà vu all over again, we may be about to begin an incredibly exciting, mind-numbing episode of cable madness which will include weeks of pulse-pounding music and swirling graphics 24/7 while absolutely nothing new happens - that it takes a while for me to realize that they think we have won in Missouri and Montana. We have won in Missouri and Montana! This is amazing. What's more, we may take the Senate. Is this possible? It's possible. It's so possible that I eat a large serving of Haagen-Dazs caramel cone ice cream, a wonderful new flavor I highly recommend.

George Allen is before us. He's standing on a platform somewhere in Virginia surrounded by supporters. Why is he here? We search his face for a clue. Does he think he's lost the election? Hard to tell. We search the faces of the people standing next to him. There's John Warner. He looks grim. So now we know: Allen thinks he has lost the election. Allen is talking about how much he hopes the electoral process will be fair and honest in the coming weeks. He's clearly anticipating a recount. It seems he thinks he will have to go to court. And he's hoping the electoral process will be fair and honest. This would be funny if it weren't funny.

And speaking of funny, Bob Shrum has just announced that the candidates that seemed to do best in this election were the ones who held onto their convictions. Bob Shrum! In favor of candidates holding onto their convictions? I must be dreaming.

It's late. We're afraid to go to sleep for fear of its being 2000, when we went to sleep elated about Gore and awakened to Bush. But it's time to go to sleep. We turn off the television set in the den. We get into bed. We turn out the lights. We turn on the lights. We turn on the teleivison set in the bedroom. Two minutes have passed but we're still on the verge of winning. We watch for another hour. We're still winning. Meanwhile, the Ambien kicks in. We fall asleep.

Good night.