Like a die-hard footy fan who can’t afford tickets to the game, I usually spend election night eating election-themed finger food (blue or red works well, depending on your party of choice), drinking plenty of booze and yelling at the TV with my friends in the appropriate moments.

(This year I’ll be manning the night desk at the Mercury, before going home to have a well-earned drink in celebration or commiseration depending on which team wins).

Because I have always been so passionate about politics, it’s easy to forget that not everyone shares my interest in the latest betting odds of Labor winning in the marginal Western Sydney seat of Lindsay, how the Liberals’ preferences will flow or how many centimetres wide the Senate paper will be this year. 

However, the lack of awareness many people have about politics became abundantly clear to me when I was talking to a group of friends at the pub last weekend.

FRIEND 1: I don’t really know anything about politics.

FRIEND 2: Me either. Are you going to vote for Kevin or Tony?

ME: Um, you can’t actually vote for Kevin or Tony. If you don’t know which party to vote for just find out which candidate from your area you think will represent you best in Canberra.

FRIEND 1: OK, so who are the people in my area?

ME: Are you enrolled in Wollongong?

FRIEND 1: Yes.

ME: OK, so you’re in Cunningham.

FRIEND 1: Oh, ok then, which party is he from?

After I’d retrieved my jaw from the floor, I patiently explained that Cunningham was not a candidate but an electorate and we went through a short overview of the seven candidates standing and what their main policies were likely to be.

Although confused (and probably bored by my rambling), everyone seemed to have a much better understanding of the way the House of Representatives worked by the end of the conversation.

We didn’t even start on the Senate - I didn’t want to overwhelm them with the 110 candidates or try to explain preferences and the pros and cons of voting above or below the line.

But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the conversation since, because I just could not believe how little people actually know about the basics of the democratic process.

The women I was talking to were all university-educated and intelligent people in their late 20s and early 30s.

And if they don’t even know the name of the electorate they vote in, or that we don’t vote presidential-style for a party leader, what hope do the rest of the population have?

It sounds trite, but people in other countries are dying for the right to choose their government.

Yet in Australia we can’t even be bothered to find out who we’re voting for (and don’t even get me started on donkey voting).

That’s why, in the dying hours of this long, long, long election campaign I think you have the responsibility to work out who you’ll give their vote to and why.

I know you’re sick to death of the election, but I promise it won’t take long to prepare yourself for the vote.

Maybe Google your electorate. Visit the Australian Electoral Commission website. Perhaps read a few newspaper stories about what your local candidates have promised so you can hold them to account if they do get elected.

Find out exactly what the differences between the CDP, ALP, CNP and DLP really are. Remember that the Pirate Party doesn’t actually have anything to do with ships or parrots or rum. And work out if you actually have anything in common with the Fishing and Lifestyle Party just because you like fishing and lifestyle (because who doesn’t?). 

I don’t care which party you support as long as you know what they stand for, can name a policy or two and make a reasonable case for why you think they will make the best representative to help run the country.

We only have to vote in a federal election once every three years, and you usually get a sausage sizzle or a lamington from the school cake stall for your troubles, so you may as well do it properly.

Kate McIlwain is the Mercury’s political reporter.