The Trump Effect

Today has been exhausting.  I purposely stayed off the internet last night during the US 2016 Federal election because I didn’t think I could handle seeing how close the race was.  You know, because they were saying Hillary had a 90% chance of winning.  Nobody was going to elect this misogynist, homophobic, sexist, racist hate and fear monger right?  Right?  I’ll just wake up in the morning to hear that the USA has elected its first woman President.

And then it’s the end of the world as we know it.  WTeverlovingF ‘Merica?  Please tell me I’m still dreaming, that I’m now ridiculously late for work because I’m having this horrible nightmare where the Tangerine Terror, the Orange Tyrant just became president of the world’s last super power.  But, he wants to move ‘Merica back to the 50’s, when the African Americans dealt with segregation (and didn’t take the white males jobs) and women were kept in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant (and didn’t take the white males jobs) and the Mexicans were still in Mexico (and didn’t take white males jobs).  He’s going to stop Muslims from entering America, and even deport some (so they can’t have the white male jobs) … well shit, guess who voted for him.  The white vote brought Trump in.  Looking at the exit polls, white men (and women) under 40 and lower educated voted in this monster.  It’s so clear now.  Hillary is the epitome of the political establishment.  She’s wealthy, white, and powerful and likely corrupt.  That’s what you kind of expect of politicians and a whole bunch of Americans said ENOUGH!

I get that you want change, you want big sweeping impactful change … but you just brought in this centuries evil war monger to make change.  You put a big spike down the middle of your country of hate and fear and terror … and somehow you’re supposed to just pick yourself up and carry on like nothing is wrong.

I’m sorry United States of America, I’m sorry it had to get this bad, that you truly had to hit rock bottom.  I hope you can heal, I hope you don’t end up destroying yourselves and I’ll just be here with a cold beer, warm poutine and a refugee center for my newly persecuted American friends.

The Trump Effect

Disgust, frustration, horror, fear …

I’m still digesting the horrific crime of the murder of 49 people in a nightclub in Orlando Florida.  While news agencies rush to bring you the news, immediate speculation of this dark skinned man is that it’s a terrorist act; apparently professed his allegiance to ISIS while on the phone to 911.  However today news is that it’s more likely he was a self-hating closeted gay man and decided to die by gunfire and take many with him.  I’m watching the global reaction.  Horror, disgust, fear, calls for Love not Hate, vigils, bathing your Facebook profile picture in rainbows for support, but what I’m not seeing, what I fear I’ll NEVER see is gun reform in the USA.

This man legally purchased an automatic weapon.  Understand, I’m not anti-fire arms.  I respect the ideology of the right to bear arms.   I get a pistol for protecting your home (although I’d never own one).  I respect a rifle for hunting (although I would never hunt).  What I don’t understand is the reason any average citizen would need a fire arm capable of expending 13.3 bullets in one second.  That’s not defending your home, that’s not figuratively or literally bringing home the moose meat, it’s a weapon with no other purpose but to kill as many as people as possible.  Why is THAT LEGAL?!?!?!?!?!?!

So I’m sitting her struggling with what to say about the tragedy.   Struggling with the horror of people being slaughtered because of who they love, or how they identify.  I don’t want my words to be a trite contribution that does nothing more than lip service.  Over and over again these tragedies happen that kill children, mothers, fathers and there’s always sorrow, grief but in the end, nothing changes.  I was truly saddened while I considered this, then; my Facebook feed fills up with 5 shot near a playground in Brooklyn and an active shooter in Texas.   

I’m sorry ‘Murica, but you’re currently courting one of the most racists, sexist and homophobic men in the world to rule your country.  This isn’t going to end well, not for you, not for the rest of the world.  You’re one of the last super powers, do NOT put modern day Hitler in charge.

I’m scared, and I’m off to Google the Mars Project.

WAIIIIIIIIIIIIT

Seriously, I need to slow down and catch my breath.  Things seem to be happening so quickly and life is just FLYING by.  I guess that’s what happens when you’re having fun, but it’s leaving me a tad breathless.  In less than two weeks I have my big wedding reception.  I’ve been reaching out to the caterer and the event manager, trying to tie up all the loose ends and I’m starting to feel a bit frantic.  I wanted to get the little gifts to try on their outfits last weekend, but as the weekend went by in a blur, that didn’t happen.  Crap, I still have to reach out to the butter tart place and order 100 butter tarts … and someone still needs shoes.  ARGH!  I know I’m forgetting something else ….

Right after the event, I have to get on a plane and fly to Arizona for an annual work conference.  There’s a lot of schmoozing and I have to train the sales team on the new products along with train my new coworker on the products she’ll be taking over … and I’m going to put together that presentation when???

After that, I feel like I can finally breathe.  I can’t wait to touch down in Glasgow, feel my spirit take a big sigh of relief as I return to the motherland.  I can’t WAIT to spend 11 days straight, uninterrupted by life, and work, and kids with the love of my life.  I’m looking forward to seeing Skye and sampling local fare. 

The other thing is also what I’m dreading.  I hate drama, I hate confrontation (honestly, who really likes that stuff?).  I want it all to be laughter and fun times, but I’m still nervous about my mother and the wedding reception.  Best case scenario is that she calls (or more likely emails) the day before that she’s not feeling well, that her back has gone out, that for one of a thousand reasons she can’t make it.  Worst case scenario is that somehow she actually does show up, and she pisses me off with one of her thousand nasty comments on my special day.  She’s never met my maid of honour (who is transgender) and I’m terrified she’s say something completely asinine.  I’m worried that she’ll say something mean to me and finally my darling husband will tell her off.  I don’t want her to ruin my day, I wish she was happy for me, involved in my life, helpful with the wedding, but she never has been, so there’s no chance she’ll start now.

I know I shouldn’t worry about things that are beyond my control.  My amazing husband loves me to the moon and back and will ALWAYS have my back.  The little gifts are over the moon excited about taking a ride in a limo.  We all can’t WAIT to see Auntie Michaela and Uncle Jeremy as we’ve missed them so much lately.  It’s going to be a wonderful day, and I’m trying not to let one person sabotage it.  I know the only one who truly can blow it is me, so I need to chill, make a list, mark things off, delegate, get shit done and look forward to the honeymoon.

Easier said than done.

Sigh!

I didn't even shed a tear

Sometimes I wonder if I'm broken.  If my normal meter is off.  This past weekend the Marvelous Miss M came up for a Christmas party.  I had a wonderful time hanging out with her.  Watching the little gifts interact with her.  There was tons of laughter, tons of wine and blissful happiness like there always is when she's around.

Then, after the little gifts were in bed, and my husband was off sampling beers at a friends, in the middle of my kitchen, she dropped the bomb.  It was cancer.  I knew there was something, but I was giving her the space to tell me in her own way.  Breast cancer, stage 2.  I hugged her, that was my first reaction, then tried to ask questions and let her tell the story.  The Queen of Irony proceeded to tell me who knew, and who was stepping up to help.  We talked all night, I sobered up VERY quickly at the news, and simply listened as she talked.  Quiet tears rolled down her cheeks every once in a while.

I listened, I wondered what I could do to help.  For some reason, and I'm not sure if it's denial or faith, but I'm not scared.  I KNOW she's going to pull through this.  I know she'll be at my wedding reception next year, drinking with FCW and running interference with my mother.  I know she'll spend weekends with us through the years.  She'll see the boys go to University and get married themselves.  

She's one year older than me, she's one of my favourite people in the world.  She's helped me become the person I am today, and come hell or high water, I'm going to do whatever I can to help her through this.