Tuesday, October 18, 2016

How It Goes

I watched Paul Hollywood from The Great British Bake Off make bread last night and I decided to use a few of his tips to make some loaves of my own today and I think my biggest mistake was that the knife I used to make the cuts in the dough before it went into the oven was not sharp enough even though I sharpened it and now all of my work is going to be for naught and goddammit, isn't that life? Don't ignore that part about having a special little tool for that particular thing because you'll just fuck up having done everything else right.

I don't know what I'm talking about right now. I'm in a weird mood and feeling yes, anxious, of course, and feeling worthless because I didn't do anything today but take a walk and do a little bit of regular housework, not even much, and the toilets need cleaning and I just don't feel like it.
I am also thinking that I have at least five kinds of cancer and that my husband may be contemplating leaving me but I keep reminding myself that depression and anxiety lie and I'm hoping with all of my heart that this is the truth of the matter.

This is how my mind is working tonight. Or not working, as the case may truly be.

I swear to you- this whole Donald Trump thing has got me in a mess of fucked-upedness and as I've said, I know I'm not the only woman to be affected by the things which have come out about him lately. Every damn day there's something new to add horror gas to the fire of the evil which is going on. That interview with Melania? Where in defending her husband she only made it worse by insisting that he's just like a little boy?
Well, duh, darlin'.
And you might have to put up with that shit but we, The People, certainly don't.
Unless his basket of deplorables which is now the size of a Great Lake somehow manage to vote the fucker in.
Bruce Springsteen, in a video I saw today, said that no, Donald is definitely not going to win but that he'll be trying to take the entire democratic process with him when he goes down. Somehow, I think we can come back from that but the very air of our country has been tainted by him and by the acceptance of him by so many people. So many of us, especially women, feel betrayed and dirtied and assaulted over and over and over again as the days go by.
And I can't help but think about the women who do support him. Of course many of them have been victims of sexual assault and what have they done with their pain and their anger and their shame and their fear? Have they simply buried it so deeply inside of themselves that they can't recognize what Trump represents to women? Have they internalized and accepted the abuser's assertions that it wasn't the fault of the abuser but of the woman for simply being there, that men are men and that's what they do, how they talk, and that girls just need to shrug it off?
I think about the woman who wore that T-shirt with the hand painted message on it- Trump can grab my... with an arrow pointing to her nether regions and I wonder if she knows that in a million years the man who shits on a gold toilet would not get within ten feet of her if he had anything to say about it.
I think about the fact that you can now buy T-shirts printed with that message.
I want to puke.

Well. Here we are. 2016 and this is where the political discourse has taken us and it's no wonder that we're all feeling sickened and sick. Or at least those of us who have some small ability to recognize and realize the horror.

Fuck it. I don't know.
I don't know shit.

Well, I do know that my knife wasn't sharp enough and I know that my left knee is bringing me grief and that I am starting to walk like a drunk on the rolling deck of a ship at sea due to my hips and that aging is taking far more from me than it is giving back.

Lord, God, I would pray if I were a pray-er. Please let us survive the next few weeks and please don't let Donald Trump become the president of the United States of America. 

On Thursday I think I will go to Monticello to the old jail where the early voting is held and cast my vote. Get it done and over with so that if I break my leg on election day I'll have already voted. That old jail is my lucky voting place. I voted for Barack Obama there twice and I'd vote for him again if I could but I will be very, very proud to vote for Hillary Clinton and that is the truth and the fact of the matter.

I'm hanging in there. How about you?

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Darling Mary, I hope you'll forgive me but when you said you were starting to walk like a drunk on the rolling deck of a ship at sea I couldn't help it, I laughed out loud in pure rueful recognition. As for the rest of it, I promise your husband has no desire to leave you and you do not have five different kinds of cancer and I wish I could tell you I don't know what that feels like, those thoughts rooted in the conviction of unworthiness, but I do. I'm sorry I laughed. But damn, the picture in my head was funny! Let's hold hands and roll along that ship deck together. You're awesome, woman. Believe it.

  2. Today I cleaned the pan for the bottom of the toaster oven. I made a salad and swept the floor. That's it. I sat and did nothing else all damn day. And I liked it.

  3. I'm doing good because of what Bruce said, but I can't believe that his wife (Melaina - whatever) said that bit about "he's just like a little boy". Does she think we should have a little boy in the White House?! Does she think he can say that shit for four years and we should just know he doesn't mean it?

    Anyway, no darling, you don't have cancer and your husband (that dear heart) is not going to leave you...he adores you!

    All I did today was take back a pair of shoes I shouldn't have bought in the first place, but the sales girl (she was about 19) was as sweet as could be, in a sincere way and it made my day. Our exchange was so nice, I think she went away happy too, that made my made day even better. And then I been sat on my butt since.
    I love hearing about you day, hope it's peaceful tonight.

  4. I'm not much for praying, but I am certainly gonna be praying that Trump does not win. I cannot even fathom him as the leader of this great country of ours! Ugh.

  5. Well yes to all of it. But how not to allow it to come so close to your core??? This morning I mentioned the latest national political-media scandal to my father on the phone and he replied that since he had not read the papers yet, he is not ready to reply and hearing from the agitation in my voice, that I have already delivered our family's worth of dismay, he is now inclinded to ignore the matter completely.
    Maybe we need to delegate some of our horrors and sorrows from time to time.
    Be generous to yourself today. Also, replace the knife with a razor blade. Works best for me.

  6. Oh Mary! I don't get these trump-worshipping women either! They make no sense! I did read somewhere, some quote from some man, that said he was making his wife vote for Trump and maybe that's it. Maybe there are still many women who are sheep and are told what to do? I don't know. It's insane. It's dominating our news here in Canada too, and I'm obsessed.
    The cold and snow are here now and I'm walking like I'm 80, limpy and hobbly. And yesterday I wore the wrong socks with my boots and now I have a blister so today's walk should be comical.
    Cut yourself some slack about your day. Some days, you're so damn busy, it all balances out in the end! :)

  7. I've loads to do - I'm going away this weekend. I'm lazing around and it's 5.20. I think about it all in the morning at work, and then I get home and just ... get directionless. Can't think what to do where to start.

    I like your prayer, it's a good one.

    I can't believe the t-shirts. Fuck. I think you're right about the psychology of those women - I guess it's survival. Like Whatsername in Orange is the New Black - Pensatucky? The hillbilly one.

  8. fuck Donald Trump, metaphorically speaking of course. I wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole. and I bet that bread was delicious no matter how wrong those cuts were made, in your opinion.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.