Where I rage

"They weren't killed with guns but with hate. Well now I have hate!"
--Maria, West Side Story.

I forgive the author of my #MeToo moment because he changed. He changed into someone who could never do that again. But the person has changed and this jerk didn't.

I was the same age as Dr. Ford.

So when Senator Collins said that she didn't believe her and voted this prick bastard onto the Supreme Court. I raged.

I am still raging.

An open letter to Senator Collins,

I hope they haunt you.
The women who will die because of your vote.
Not only the women who will die when Roe is overturned.
Not only them.

But the woman who was raped and was told, by you, by your vote that if she comes forward no one will believe her.
Some will die inside as they hide away from the world.
Some will die because you have given people the idea that rape is somehow a woman's fault and they will commit suicide.
Some will die because they don't go to the hospital because you told them they will not be believed.    You told them that they will be laughed at. Not only that but it is all right that they are laughed at. I hope those women haunt you.

I hope you see their faces, white, brown, Asian, when you try to fall asleep and you can't.
I hope you hear their screams in your nightmares.
I hope you don't sleep.

I hope you know that because of you, that part of them have died.
I hope you get that.
I hope you suffer with this choice.

Moreover I hope you do not retire in 2020 and you get voted out on your ass.

I hope you don't suffer alone.
I wish the same on Senators Flake, Graham, and Grassley. I would wish it on McConnell but I don't believe he has a soul to be tormented.

I believe you do. And I hope you do. I hope you live a long life so you see what your actions have wrought. I hope you feel remorse then.

Until then, I hope you suffer as we are suffering now.

I'm hoping this time it is different

Another school shooting.

I've talked about my feelings here and that was nearly three years ago.

I'm heartbroken for the parents. I'm heartbroken for the kids.

But I have to say that this time I have hope.

The students of the school have decided that they are tired of waiting. They are organizing walkouts. They--the ones who will be old enough will be voting this November on an anti-gun platform. I'm quite proud of them. I'm hopeful that maybe this will change.

Oprah 2020

So, this was Oprah's speech at the Golden Globes yesterday.

I've heard a bunch of people saying that this might have been a speech to launch her presidential campaign for 2020.

I would vote for her.

Unfortunately that doesn't quite pack the punch it should. I mean if it turns out that the current occupant of the White House doesn't get impeached or resigns or something I would vote for Oprah's cat or dog before I would vote for him.

I am concerned that it will take generations to restore the country to what it was.

But I will be kind.
I will listen.
I will be the change I want to see in my country.

I hope.

That being said, when Oprah Winfrey can deliver a speech that makes me cheer. I would definitely like to see her more politically involved.

Microblog Monday - Right to know

Lotus had a dentist appt today.  (2 cavities--eek)

But the thing that has been going through my mind was a conversation with the staff of her pediatric dentist's office.

I overheard a phone call that the assistant took. The side I heard went like this.
"Are you a new patient?"
Pause
"We're always happy to have new patients. Let's see when we can get you in."
Pause.
"I'm glad to answer any questions."
Pause
"I'm sorry. I don't know the political leanings of the doctors. I've never asked them."
(This is when I started listening.)

"Well, they don't tell me who they voted for as they are cleaning a child's teeth. Nor would I want them to."
Pause.
Long pause.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, I will not answer that."
I could hear some squawks from the phone now.
"Ma'am, My vote and my political leanings are no one's business but my own. And I will not ask my coworkers who they voted for."
Pause
"Well I'm sorry you feel that way."
The secretary hang up the phone.

I went over to her. "Did she just ask you---"
"if we are Trump Supporters, yes. She's not the first. Won't be the last." I said she handled it well and they called Lotus back so I went with my kid.

Never would I ask a doctor who they voted for. Never. It is totally irrelevant. I'm stunned. I don't know if the person on the phone wanted a Trump supporter or not, but I don't care. This is something that is just wrong.

I do not support the current administration and I have no problem saying that.

If I were in an ambulance what I want is my doctor's skill. I want my doctor's knowledge. Even in this horrific political climate the last thing I'm thinking about is who my doctor voted for. I trust the medicine. I trust the knowledge.

I have a right to know where he or she went to school. I have a right to know if there are cases pending against him or her. I have no right to know his or her political affiliation, religion, or sexual orientation.

And I don't care.
This pediatric dentist is amazing. They paint my daughter's nails so she sits still to let the nail polish dry as they check her teeth. She leaves the office smiling.

That's all I care about.

Microblog Monday - It's getting to me.

At the end of West Side Story a woman kneels at the side of her dead lover who has been shot. Two rival gangs stand and approach each other with violence on their minds.

"Stay back!" The woman says. She goes to the boy with the gun and takes it from him.

"How do I use this? By pulling this little trigger? You all killed him... not with guns but with hate. Now I can kill too because I have hate."

I'm finding myself hating.
Hating the occupant of the White House.
Hating the people who thought it would be a good idea to get him elected.
Hating the haters.

I'm finding myself in rages.
Rages at the political climate.
I have to stop shouting and yet I can't keep myself from shouting.

I want to de-personalize people. I want to say if they think THAT, then they aren't deserving of the moniker human being.

I want to.

And then I can't. I can't let my body fill up with hate. I can't let myself give into the fear.

How do you not give into the hate? How do you avoid cocooning in your home because you don't think you can handle somebody discriminating against you? How do you avoid it?

It's getting to me.

Microblog Monday - Going into the New Year

First of all.
If you haven't donated to Puerto Rico. Click Here.

They are Americans. They need our help and they sure as f**k aren't getting it from the Federal Government.

If you can't donate money, find a Salvation Army or a drop off point and drop off stuff. Again. They need help.

Okay--back?

On 60 Minutes yesterday Oprah hosted a roundtable discussion about how divided we are. She invited people from across the political spectrum. It was interesting. It is what we should be doing, sitting and talking about what is going on.

The thing that scared me though, is that they mentioned civil war.

I am so scared about that. I was so scared that I was filled with anxiety when my daughter came and played with me. I worried that her countrymen and women would see her as other and take her from me. I held her so tight and I started to cry. I tried to pass them off as happy tears but the five year old wasn't buying it.

One of my friends who is of the same political bent as I am got annoyed with me because I say that we have to start people to people who don't agree with us. He's happy in his echo chamber. He pastes the most far-left memes on his Facebook page so people who agree with him already can nod their heads. He has happily un-friended all the people who don't agree with him.

I won't.

I have unfollowed people when I don't want hate to clog my feed, but I make sure they see what I can post. Maybe they will like the picture of my daughter with the colander on her head.

It's the ten days of repentance and I repent of a lot. I want to change in small and big ways.

I need to acknowledge that my pre-diabetes has turned to type 2 instead of burrowing my head in the sand. I need to take steps to take far better care of my health.

I need to exercise. I will be joining the Y or Health Center.

I need to go on social media fasts. I might do that in a way to honor the sabbath. I don't know. Still thinking about it.

I need to forgive.

Yom Kippur is coming up and I need to forgive.

I need to forgive the people who voted for Donald Trump. Some of them are my friends. Some of them are horrified with their decision. I need to forgive my fellow countrymen who are both elated by their choice and horrified at what they have done with their precious votes.

I need to forgive Trump and the current administration. Please understand by forgive I do not mean acquiescing to all that they suggest and do. I mean that I need to stop letting it eat at me. I need to stop giving into the hate and fury that it causes in myself. I need to let go of that hate and channel the anger into fighting the actions--not the people.

I have no illusions as to how difficult that it will be, but the hate and the fury they cause me is eating me up. It is not helping me or our nation.

If we fall into civil war I don't want to say that there was nothing I could do to stop it. There IS something I can do. I can be the change I need to see. I can be better than I have been. That is what Yom Kippur is about. Trying, always trying to be better.

I wish everyone a happy and healthy new year and all who celebrate an easy fast.

I can't forget this day-Microblog Monday

Billy Joel may have said it best.

"And it's hard to believe after all these years, it still gives you pain and it still brings tears."

I can't forget how beautiful the day was.

I can't forget the frantic calls. "Did you go into the city today?" "Pick up the phone, damn it, "

I can't forget my friend who was in lower Manhattan. She and her husband (then he was her fiancé) live with this day as a day of dust and blood and a miracle of finding each other.

I can't forget my mentor's partner. She kissed her partner goodbye to get on a plane. That plane would be flown into Tower one.

I can't forget how the country came together.
I can't forget how the people who didn't vote for George W. Bush and the people who did all came behind him to hope that he would do good.


And now we hate each other.
We do.
We hate each other with the same virulence that the people who rammed the planes into the towers hated us.

How they must laugh.
They got what they wanted.

They laugh at you.

Whenever you look at someone and think of that person as someone other. Be it LGBTQ, black, asian, hispanic, Trump voter, libertarian, conservative, liberal democrat republican.  If you look at a fellow American and think how they are not like you and not to be trusted you are making the terrorists laugh.  They rub their hands together in glee because we gave them exactly what they wanted.

We divided America.
They didn't.

You think "oh that's other people, I love and respect always." Really? Maybe so. Maybe you're that much better than I am.
I have problems thinking of some as fellow humans.

And I'm trying to stop.

Let this be the day that we reach our hands across the chasm. Maybe we'll shake hands like Sirus Black and Severus Snape, but we can shake each other's hand because we are all Americans. We can be better. We've got to try.

Here is my hand. Outstretched. How can I help you?

To honor Doctor Martin Luther King--I still have a dream

A few days ago was the anniversary of the I Have A Dream speech.

I've been doing research about Dr. King. I think that the thing that strikes me so much is his optimism. I have a dream--when things were not changing fast enough for anyone.

I am often despondent about what is happening in my country. This country that elected a good man for president. A good, kind, imperfect man who served our country loyally for eight years is now being followed by the worst president in our nation's history.

And still I don't want to despair.

I went online and I listened to the speech,

And I... I still have a dream.

I have a dream that the people that we elect to our congress and senate will somehow open their hearts and learn that they must represent those who elected them, instead of a party.

I have a dream that the police of this nation will stop being so deathly afraid of people who are black that they reach for deadly force as the last thing, instead of the first thing.

I have a dream today

I have a dream that the people who voted for Trump and the people who voted for Hillary and the people who didn't vote at all will join hands and work so that this country can fulfill its promise.

I have a dream that if (all the Gods forbid) a woman is raped, the only reason someone will ask what she is wearing is to return a lost piece of jewelry.

I have a dream that everyone will be free to hold hands and hug, and kiss, and marry whoever it is that they love without anyone raising an eyebrow or a fist.

I have a dream that it becomes equally dificult for someone to get a gun license as it is to get a license to drive a car.

I have a dream that health care in this great country is seen as a right that needs to be afforded to all and not a privileged afforded to the wealthy few. This includes mental health care and dental care.

And as ever, as Martin said, I have a dream that my daughter will one day live in a nation where she will not be judged by the color of her skin but by the content of her character.

I share his dream. I still believe his dream. I add my own dream to his.

What do you dream?

Charlottesville and the racists we know--Microblog Mondays

Like everyone else I'm horrified by what went on in Charlottesville this weekend.

Note, I'm not saying I'm shocked. Racism is as endemic to this country as corn--and just as prolific. I'm reading my friends lists and everyone is shocked--shocked that this is what America looks like now. They're blaming Trump.

Now look, I'm for blaming Trump for anything but people aren't getting this. Trump is now in the Oval Office because of people like this. He didn't create it--he took advantage of it. People are surprised that Trump didn't denounce them harder. It always bewilders me when people are jolted by the fact that a racist was elected to the presidency. Did people really think that when Trump walked into the White House he'd suddenly become a decent human being? Did people think that he would suddenly be an adult? This is a man who has to get two scoops of ice cream while everyone else gets one. He's not going to change.

But other people can. The people you interact with every day--they have changed since you met them. Maybe they've changed for better or for worse but likely they are not the same people you met at the beginning.

Take my in-laws for example. They are majorly homophobic. They think that gays and lesbians are against God and the bible. Don't even get them started on transexuals which they just don't understand--and they admit that. Their church has splintered because of the gay and lesbian issue and my in-laws proudly attend the "non-welcoming" one.

This has understandably led to friction. But I wasn't going to cut off contact with my in-laws. I certainly wasn't going to stop associating with my LBGTQ friends to make my inlaws more comfortable. I kept throwing people together. All of a sudden my mother in law would ask me. "That friend of yours--is she gay?" I said "Yes." and went on with whatever. I kept telling them funny stories about my friends. All of them. Little by little the phobia went away. Little by little they realized that gay marriage didn't hurt their marriage. Little by little they realized they were wrong.

I see a lot of people on my Facebook feed saying "if you think such and such is right, then just de-friend me."  Unlike the hate--I see this on both sides. I'm not de-friending anyone. I will engage when I feel it is called for. I will discuss.

I don't feel that I am helping my friends who are being hurt most by the current situation by closing off my friends who have different views. We won't learn from each other that way. We have to start listening to others before the screaming starts.

I close with my favorite quote from The American President.  It is still so true.

You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country can't just be a flag; the symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then, you can stand up and sing about the "land of the free."

Christian Does Not Equal Good

So 217 members of the  United States House of Representatives have decided that they want to be mass murderers.

The vast majority of these people identify themselves as Christians.

Accordion to Merriam Webster the word Christian means someone who professes belief in the teachings of Jesus Christ. I decided to look through my husband's bible to see exactly where they might be taking their inspirations.  What I read was surprising.

These people should be acting according to Philippians 2:4:
"not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

Or maybe Proverbs 3:27:
"Do not withhold good to those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act."

Maybe Romans 12:13:
"Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality."

Because this is blog post and not a bible study I will end with this one.
James 2:14-17
"14 What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith obut does not have works? Can that faith save him? 15 pIf a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, 16 qand one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good2 is that? 17 So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead."


This is not how the 217 members acted. They have decided to kill people. I'm tired of prettying it up. By their actions they knew that people were going to die and they decided to do it. People with pre-existing conditions cannot pay for the extra care and they want to defund Medicaid. This will kill people.

These people are the same ones (mostly) who look at the survivors of gun violence and refuse to make any laws restricting gun ownership.  Understand right now, with the bill that they passes, that a mentally ill person can get a gun--but not help.



For a long time, when you said "I'm too much of a Christian" to do thus and so it meant you were too good. The quote I think of is in The Wizard of Oz.

Aunt Em: "Elmyra Gulch just because you own half the county doesn't mean you have the power to run the rest of us. For twenty-three years, I've been dying to tell you what I thought of you. And now, well, being a Christian woman, I can't say it!"

We are meant to think that because she is just a good person, she can't say what she thinks. Maybe when this was made it was truer. But after watching this Congress, who maintain their Christianity, the quote I think of most is from The Princess Bride. 
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

Good people can be Christians. But it takes a lot more than being Christian to be good.

Learning from the wrong - Microblog Monday

We took Lotus to one of the last performances of Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey circus. She loved it.

Part of it was the cotton candy and the popcorn and the other snacks.

Part of it was the spectacle.

Part of it was the animals. The lions, tigers (no bears),  dogs and kangaroos.

I loved watching it with her. I loved watching her little face glow with excitement.
I also missed the elephants.

I know it isn't right to say it. But here's the thing, I loved watching them. Also if they aren't hurt--something that isn't 100% sure that was true--I think that it gives people an opportunity to see them in person and to care. At a party I met a friend of a friend and she works at the Bronx Zoo--in the bear section. She first became enamored of bears when she saw them as a child at the circus.

One of my hobbies is history--learning, reading, writing.

Someone asked if I had any cringe-worthy musical theater shows that I loved.
I don't.
And I do.

The way Native Americans were portrayed in Peter Pan and Annie Get Your Gun is risible. It is disgusting.

But.

The songs Ugg A Wugg and I'm an Indian Too from Peter Pan and Annie Get Your Gun are so racist I cringe. I won't link to them, but you can find them.

That being said, I was seven years old when I heard I'm an Indian Too. It led to a lifelong fascination with Native American culture. My mother suggested I read the myths and then my parents took me out west to see the land they fought for.

Without those bad examples, I wouldn't have the fascination. I wouldn't have learned how to do the good examples.

Sometimes good can come from bad.

An important bit of nothing

Today we readopted Lotus.

We filled out more paperwork.

We went to a court and a judge
smiled at our daughter
and pronounced her our daughter
now
and forever more.

When she asked,
we tried to explain?
Why?
Why did we do this?
Again?

Lotus is an American citizen
since after a flight
from China to New York
we placed her foot on the ground
Of JFK Terminal.

Lotus has been our daughter
since we dipped her foot
in red ink
and placed it on the paper
Making a blood-red footprint
that says
She is ours.

How do I tell you
My daughter,
My child,
My very own,
That our country elected a tyrant.
Who hates you?

How do I say that
I worried that
that tyrant might write
new laws. And those laws
would call
you an immigrant
and take you from me.

How do I say
that I waited because
I wanted to honor
your China Mommy.
I am saddened because
the birth certificate that
will come from the capital city
of our state
will not have her name.

All I can say
that it was for a piece of paper.
And would you like cake?

And my child will hug me.
And ask if she can
lick the beater when
we make the icing.

I say no.
We will share.
Because we are family.

Microblog Monday - Loving My Neighbor

Growing up, our next door neighbors were our dearest friends. I called them Aunt K and Uncle B. If my mother wasn't home when I got off the bus from school I went next door and played in their basement. Uncle B. taught me how to hammer a nail--including how to swear if I missed and hit my thumb. I was told that the words "Shit! Goddamnit! Shit!" in that order was the only way to respond when I missed the nail and hit my fingers. That being said--those words were only for that occasion. I believed that until I got to middle school.

Our neighbors were Catholic and we were Jewish. Every Christmas morning for years we went over there for breakfast where Santa had dropped a bunch of gifts under their tree. Because my parents were on vacation out of the country, Aunt K and Uncle B knew that I became engaged to D before my parents did. I grieved when Uncle B passed away and I still stay in touch with Aunt K.

Because we had such wonderful neighbors I learned how to be a good neighbor. Our across the street neighbors (our house was at the end of a street) were not as wonderful. They loved leaving their car right behind ours even though multiple cars could and did fit into their driveway. They were snobs and told my mother to "watch out for the silver" when I invited my multi-racial group of friends over. But they were our neighbors. Many was the time I would come home and mom had made chicken soup. On the kitchen table was one or two extra containers filled with my mom's chicken soup. She'd tell me to take them next door or across the street because they were sick. If there was death it was a macaroni casserole with our name in masking tape at the bottom of the Corningware pan. This was reciprocated. When I was sixteen, I vented to Aunt K about my crush and how he didn't know I existed and on and on and on.  After giving me a wonderful and nonjudgmental ear, I came home on a very cold day to see a pint of Haagen Daaz chocolate chocolate chip ice cream on our front stoop. "In case of heartbreak," the note read. "open pint. Take spoon. Ingest."

I am lucky that the streak has continued. We have wonderful neighbors. Our next door neighbors teach Lotus about flowers and plan to teach her about gardening. Across the street comes over with their snowblower--often--to dig us out. We say thanks with chocolate chip cookies and brownies.

Love your neighbor is at the center of just about every religion. Help your neighbor.Take care of each other. This is why the Republican Health Don'tCare plan astounds me.

Republicans are supposed to be moral. Where is the morality of telling people that if you aren't white you don't deserve health care? Where is the morality of taking health care from people who need it most. Republicans are churchgoers far more then Democrats. Were they absent when they taught that page from the Bible?

Health insurance is moral to me.  If I am healthy I want the money I pay into insurance to go to help someone who is sick or who, God forbid, has a sick child. If you want health insurance to only cover you, and not your neighbor you have no right to call yourself a good person--regardless of religious denomination. One man asked why men need to be paying for pre-natal care. Was he immaculately conceived? Isn't it a good thing as a nation to have a healthy populace?

I will be calling my congressman and senators and explaining that I want my neighbors healthy. I want my family healthy and I will work like hell to unseat anyone who votes for this bill. I hope all the Americans reading this.

That being said--what are other neighborly things that you like to do?

Microblog Monday - We have something in common. We can build on this.

Hey Trump Voters.

I'm not going to ask you how you feel about your choice.
If you're happy and you think he's doing wonderful things and you like the idea of the United States being a part of Russia--nothing I say is going to change your mind. Nothing you say is going to change my mind and the best we can do is wish each other a great day and start talking about the Mets. (I'm really liking their chances this year--just saying.)

But maybe there is someone out there who voted for Trump who is maybe not feeling too happy about their choices. Maybe we can talk.

In the words of David Addison of Moonlighting.

Hey--let's talk about books. Me? I read left to right--how about you?
And when I'm in temple I read right to left--you?

We have something in common. We can build on this.

Let's talk about eating. I like to eat.
I have food allergies. Do you know someone who has food allergies?

We have something in common. We can build on this.

Let's get deep and talk about sex.
Who would have guessed it! I like sex too!
I think everyone should have plenty of sex with whoever it is that they love.
You?

We have something in common. We can build on this.

I'm not talking about people on the far right and far left-- they are forgetting that there are more people in the middle. I am in the middle. I want to talk to others in the middle.

If we don't--that is when America will die.  It won't be because of the current President. It won't even be because of the current Congress  America will die because we forgot that the people on the right side of the aisle cries tears when they are hurt--the same way those on the left side of the aisle do.

I live in New Jersey. I love my child with every breath in my body.
I believe that the woman in Kansas loves her child with every breath in her body

I am a Jew and my religion fills something in my soul.
I believe that Muslims and Christians find something in their religions that fill something in their souls.

I am a woman and I am deeply in love with a man.
I believe that love is so deep that it transcends gender.

We have something in common. We can build on this. Let's start to try.

Microblog Monday - Trust Me

I'm going to start out by saying this is not what I mean to be writing about.

I planned to write about how parenting Lotus is both easier and harder now that she can assert her opinion.

Then I saw an article that a friend linked to on Facebook. Then another friend and another. It was a headline guaranteed to make me see red and start pounding at walls. Then I planned this whole other blog post about how terrible things are today with lawmakers trying to roll us back tot he stone-age.

Then I did my due diligence on the article.  No, I will not link to it. Because--it isn't completely true.  In fact it is mostly untrue.

Is the law talked about in the article reprehensible? Yes.
However, it isn't happening.

With 45's constant and consistent attempt to discredit the media and his reliance on news sites that is demonstrably untrue--though he doesn't see it or acknowledge it--it has been difficult to know where to trust.

I refuse to be like 45 and say "I heard." I have to back it up.  I have taken a page from Mel and trust a few news sources. But I also read other sources so I know what other people are talking about--and in this case, there is enough wrong stuff, it doesn't merit my linking to it. Moreover it doesn't merit my anger.

I miss being able to trust what I read on a news site. But unless it is in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Atlantic, or NPR--I just can't. I trust these sources because I know how hard it is to meet their journalistic standard.

What news sources do you trust? And why do you trust them?

Broadway music saved my life--now it is saving my sanity.

Broadway music saved my life.

More than once.

When I was in sixth grade I had a horrible teacher. Think Snape--except without the forgiving back story. I was depressed. I was suicidal.

My parents were fairly oblivious. I didn't think I could tell them anything.  But they knew I was unhappy. They sent me to my aunt and uncle for a week. Where my aunt and uncle saved my life.

They took me to a show. A national tour of Man of La Mancha. While I had seen several musicals--growing up in a suburb of New York City-- this was the first one I climbed in and lived in. After that, no conversation was had without me bringing up Man of La Mancha. Which was my favorite song today? Then I would play it over and over --rewinding the cassette a myriad of times (because of course I had it on cassette since MP3s were decades away). I memorized the entire book of the musical. I read Don Quixote (a fairly bad translation) when I was 12 years old. I read biographies of Don Miguel de Cervantes.  I took comfort from the fact that even when everyone laughed at Don Quixote and beat him and turned away from him--he still followed the Impossible Dream.  It made me believe that I could go on and do it to.

I got through the rest of the school year. I think part of it was that I told my aunt some of the stuff my teacher said and things got better at home. Things got better.

I'm in a dark place lately. I want to just hold on to my daughter because she makes me laugh. She hugs me and makes me comfortable in a world that has grown increasingly uncomfortable. I then thought of what I used to do when I was uncomfortable and I thought of Man of La Mancha. Got the CD and listened to it. '

And today, today, it is helping me go on. Helping me say that I can follow the quest. No matter how hopeless, no matter how far.

Below is Brian Stokes Mitchell in what I would say is the best version of this.
I will strive with my last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable stars.

It's done then

He is now the 45th president of the United States.

I didn't watch.

I will be marching tomorrow unless Lotus' sneezes turn into a full-blown cold.

I will  be fighting for health care. I will be contacting my congressperson. I will be making big fusses.

I don't plan to go away.

I am frightened. I am scared. I am furious.

But I'm here.

Microblog Monday - Bracing myself

So today the Electoral College will more than likely make Donald Trump the official President Elect.

Unlike a lot of people on my friends list, I have not been trying to fight this.

There are several reasons.

1) If the exact situation had been reversed and Trump had won the popular vote and Hillary had won the electoral college, I would say, those are the laws of the land. I would denounce and decry any meddling in the electoral college. It seems wrong.

2) It isn't like Hillary did not know about the electoral college and they took the election out of nowhere.

3) The name that constantly comes up is somehow electing John Kaisich--and the fact that he wasn't on the ballot just doesn't sit right with me.


So, I'm bracing myself.
Bracing myself to be fighting a lot.
Bracing myself to use libraries and use the money where I would have bought books to donate to causes.
Bracing myself to be nicer to people who are not nice to me.
Bracing myself to listen to people who voted for Trump. Listen to people so I understand and not listen to refute.

Bracing myself for a long four years.

Microblog Monday - Though I don't like it, I stand with you

I have made no secret of the fact that I do not like the President Elect.

I am terrified of him as President. I think that the entire country is in for a very hard next four years.

There are things that he is doing that is concerning me. Having his daughter in on national policy meetings--is one. I am very concerned about his choice of cabinet members.

However, I do not give a flying fuck that his family will not be joining him at the White House at least until June. Mainly because I think that Melania Trump is acting in the best interest of her child and for that I applaud her and I have her back.

There are rumors that 11-year-old Barron Trump, the youngest of the President Elect's children is autistic or somewhere on the autism spectrum*. If that is true, then she is absolutely right to have him finish the year where he will be comfortable. Moving and changing schools mid-year is traumatic for kids who aren't on the spectrum. Melania knows her kid, and she has made this decision and I say good for her.

If the reason you are furious about the election is because of what it will do to the rights of women,  how dare you get in a snit about this! This is about a woman making decisions for her family. Melania has the right to move or not move when her husband gets a different job. She is opting not to, as it is best for her kid. It is her decision, to be discussed with her husband and her child and whoever is providing the security.

This is a distraction story, to distract us from the racists that are going to be on the cabinet. To distract us from the fact that Trump settled out-of-court a fraud case for $25 million.

It's going to be a long four years. Let's keep our eyes on the real issues, not Hamilton (though anyone who wants to get rid of their tickets--my email is right there!) or where Melania and Barron live.


* If Barron Trump is indeed autistic, that again is something we, as the American public do not need to know. Would it be good to know that the President understands so many parents of autistic kids? Yes. But again, it is between the child, the parents and the IEP plan at his school.

Microblog Monday - Though I have been silent, I shall not be still

I refuse to give in to despair.

I have to hug a four-year-old and help her to make sense of the world around her. I have to do it with a smile. She is watching me, you see, to see how to deal with disappointments.

I scared her a little bit. I was crying. I was actively planning to grab her and leave the country. I started research, where could we live, make a living and then yet return.

This weekend we took her to a movie about Trolls who sing. It was her first movie in a theater and she's glommed onto this song.

That's what we do, we get back up again.
I had practice during infertility. After a failed cycle, I cried and cycled again. After roadblock to roadblock in our adoption of Lotus we did it.

Now she needs to watch me do it. Life is full of disappointments--big and small. Lotus will watch me and see how I act. She has to see me get up. She has to see me go on. She has to see me listen to things that make me physically ill and still defend people's right to say them. She has to see me watch a protest and explain that people have the right to do it. They don't have the right to hurt people.

My daughter is watching. Therefore sometimes I am silent. But I am not still.

This is worse than disappointment. No one has to tell me this is worse. I am viscerally scared--not as scared as some, more than others, but I do know this is worse.

And yet, I calmed down. I'm not saying I don't have an exit plan, but I'm waiting. I'm being quiet and listening. I'm reading what my friends on both sides of debate say. YES, I have friends who voted for Trump. I imagine if they had a blog they would say, of me, YES I have friends who voted for Clinton.

But I will not be still.

I am contacting my state representatives.  I didn't know who they were until two days ago. I am going to see how to make my state house blue.

I am signing up to email with the people running for New Jersey governor in 2017. I will help on the campaign. I will work.

I will stand beside my friends of color. I will stand beside my LGBTQ friends. I will stand besides my sisters. I hope they will stand beside my Jewish self.

I will not be still.

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

I still remain. I will not be still.

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