Oh no we didn't.

I am aware that I use my sense of humor as a coping mechanism when shit starts hitting the fan, but I never expected to literally find myself breaking down into hysterical fits of laughter last night while watching election results roll in. 

I have done my very best to avoid political discussion of any kind with anyone not living in my home, and I didn't really feel anxious about the whole thing until suddenly half the east coast was red. And at first I thought, well, the south is always red, just wait. But then there was just... more red. And more. And some more for good measure. So much red. All the red, everywhere. 

Today we are looking around in confusion, wondering what to tell our kids, and all manner of other ridiculously important things that have no right to even be questioned at this point, like deportation and walls and civil liberties and misogyny and sexual health. AGAIN. I don't understand how we got dragged back to this ugly, uncertain, hopeless place. 

This morning I read a post by a complete stranger that was one of the most naive, candy coated garbage sentiments I have read in a while. "Maybe it won't be as bad as everyone thinks! Maybe this is actually going to be good for us!" It produced yet another involuntary peel of laughter from deep within the place my heart used to lie, mostly unbroken. Then I cried. 

The thing is, though, I think that's also the moment I felt a tiny sliver of hope sneak in. Not because I have any hope that "maybe it won't be so bad." But because maybe this IS going to, eventually, be good for us. 

I say that because the issues here aren't just targeted at one group this time. It's not just about women's issues. It's not just about gay rights. It's not just about the black community. It's not just about immigration. It's about ALL of those things, together. We are all in this shit together. I hope we stand, united, and kick some ass. Or, maybe that's my own level of naivity peeking through. I don't know yet. It's all the hope I have to cling to right  this second, though.

Venus and Mars, and a sky full of stars

You know, I'm just about 100% sick of hearing about the whole feminism thing. I just want the opportunity to get on with the business of being a human female while enjoying the ability to make every single last decision of my own accord without some guy standing there judging or giving his unsolicited opinion. Or even some other woman, for that matter. What works for my life may not work for anyone else's, and I'm okay with that... so why do they insist we try to jam ourselves into whatever mold they fancy at the time?

I'm sick of the term "mansplain," and I'm sick of the men trying to explain who, when, why, how, and what a woman should do with her vagina, her wardrobe, her hair and makeup, her attitude, her life. I'm sick of the ridiculous disrespect that has made women literally fear walking down the street alone at night, or in broad daylight, because of what some man may do, which of course, she will be blamed for due to the length of her skirt or the tightness of her shirt, or no reason at all. I'm sick of the school dress code restrictions that grow ever increasingly tighter as the staff lose their grip on their responsibilities to actually educate their students, placing the blame on a girl in skinny jeans when a boy refuses to keep his eyes or hands to himself. I'm sick of the phrase "boys will be boys," and the wink and nod and dismissal that follows. I'm sick of the way women are viewed as the weaker sex, yet blamed for men "giving in to temptation," or however they wish to phrase the stupidity they have just indulged in.

I'm sick of being from Venus, while men reside on Mars. Because all of this means that women and men will never have whatever conversation that needs to occur in order for this to all stop happening. We will never understand each other, and we will never stop the blame game. We will never stop being victims, or victimised, or feel comfortable in our own skin, or proud of who we are, or proud of our partners. How can we, when we are making each other feel judged at every turn and assumed to be a person who utterly lacks control of their own actions, thoughts, behavior, and feelings?

Women can be just as brutally stupid as men in all of the above aspects, too, so don't think I am giving my own gender a get out of jail free card. I am also very grateful that almost all of the people I know and love don't fall under any of this crap. I am just sick of all of us having to deal with the fallout every single day.

Don't we all have anything better, more important, to do?
I know I sure do.

Crazy little thing called Age.

I like to think that age is just some number; an indication of the number of years one has traversed the human condition, and precious little else of significance is weighted within. It would explain why I seldom feel like a bone fide "grown up" despite that I'm nearing the {holy shit} 39th year since my birth, or that I have a child that just last week reached the {holy shit x 2} 20th year since his own. I have a friend that is in her 60s, and was just today flirted with by someone not much older than my 20 year old. And it's exactly at that point where my brain puts on the screeching halt of the brakes and calls me a hypocrite.

It's not because I have any interest in being flirted with by anyone other than my spouse, (I don't), but because my first thought is immediately "he's just a baby." It's some weird part flattery and a whole lot of feeling like a pedophile. And I didn't even do anything wrong! Was so oblivious to the whole affair that it wasn't until I got home with my goods and receipt that I realized that there was a phone number scrawled across a scrap of paper. It made me laugh. Out loud. And it also makes me genuinely feel like a great big jerk that I can't take a compliment without dissecting it and trying to find the ulterior motive waiting to jump out and bite me.

Dismissing age as just a number, though, erases the actual experience of all of that living that has happened in that span of time. Things both big and small that conclude into the  amalgamation of the person that we are becoming. Certainly, I would be offended if someone dismissed me as "just a baby" because I am arbitrarily younger than they are. That they would be moved to laughter because I found them attractive? Wow. That sucks. I have lived a lot in my not-quite-(gulp)-forty years; I have a lot to offer, damn it! That said, I often wonder if I will always feel like a kid. Am I the only grown up that feels like a kid tossed unceremoniously out into the world, just trying to keep my head above the rising tide of numbers gathering below me? And do I even *want* to feel every second of those numbers? [No. No, I don't.]

Here's the thing, though: when it comes to matters of more-than-friends, I think that's where the water starts getting murky for me, and I guess lots of other folks. My mom once freaked out, just a couple of years ago, in fact, that I find some guys her own age attractive. "He's an old man!" I volleyed back, " Who cares. LOOK AT HIM." (Rob Lowe, you still have it; I have thought so since I was a pre-teen.) But speaking of pre-teens, do I want my own daughter to ever entertain thoughts about guys her mother's age at any point in her life? Oh Hell No! I'm totally fine with riding the hypocrisy train where that's concerned.

Oh well, it is all what it is. The human condition is equal parts hilarious and horrifying. I guess most of the time I'm just glad to be along for the ride.

Eat, drink, and be merry; for tomorrow you die.

It is said to be the philosophy of Epicureans; it is also an amalgamation of scriptures from The Bible. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die." Surely this quote is also an apt descriptor for America's first Thanksgiving Day, and every Thanksgiving Day that has followed, with much thanks to the joys of the dysfunctional family. We gather to break bread, and end up wanting to break someones neck; snap it like the wishbone on the turkey. Happy holidays! Well, that's another oxymoron for another time.

We don't *do* F2F anymore.

My friend Kari recently made an entry in her blog about how people just aren't talking on the phone anymore, as in - the internet is the new all-encompassing social hub. I have to admit, I didn't really think about it much because I am not a phone person. I'm not even really a "face to face" person, to be honest; every relationship I've ever had outside of my husband and my kids, I have let slip through my fingers. It's not that I'm not interested [well, in lots of cases, I'm sure], but ... uhm, I don't have a therapist just for kicks. I have issues - probably more than your local magazine rack. I have them for valid reasons, but I have reached a point in my life where it is time to put those issues on a shelf and get on with things.