I'll Always Have My American Spirits

Dear Hearts,

I got about twenty minutes.

I took an hour walk rather than starting to blog. The walk was good for me.

Here’s the deal: I am being installed tonight in Star as Adah. She sacrificed herself to save her father’s honor and life. Fidelity and Family. She is the “lowest” point of the star. In other words, I am working my way up.

My dad is here! He and mom decided even though he wasn’t buffalo hunting until the end of the month, he would come out early for my installation. He’s never missed a Rainbow or Star installation. This is my first installation and having my dad here is awesome. When he pulled up in his big-ass--and I do mean big-ass--truck yesterday I climbed up into the cab and sat on his lap hugging him.

I think Martha is right.

He is the love of my life. Even if he does keep the TV on way too loud. And only wears his upper teeth for “company.” He doesn’t wear them all the time, so he lisps with them in. It’th funny! He is singing along to some old TV show. Badly. He sings badly. “Get on home, Cindy, Cindy…I’ll marry you sometime…”

We do have a special connection—we always have for better or worse. I am his little girl.

G-Pa is going with us tonight so he has some idea of what the hell I do when I leave the house dressed in a wedding gown for Star.

We are going to eat out a great restaurant before the installation. I should be thrilled and looking forward to this evening.

But, I just don’t feel…anything. I don’t feel excited or particularly happy. I ought. I want. But I don’t. That’s the worse thing about depression: the scrim between you and the world.

I am not doing or working toward anything—I’m aimless. That’s how I feel. I have no purpose. Just stay alive. And wait for the next crisis—my union benefits to stop in December. After that I cannot support myself. Period.

I am really not pitying myself. I just know I am not the only one who feels like this. I want YOU to understand how depression is so much more than just being sad. The light is in a constant brown-out.

Right now, I am going to make myself some coffee and have a cigarette—or maybe two! Then get dressed in a beautiful wedding gown (that T. said he’d marry me in). It’s perfect for Star. I will wear a shawl my Gram made. I will try to be in the moment. I will try to tear through the scrim if for just tonight. And relish the Blessings I know God’s given me.

John Wayne. Dad’s listening to a John Wayne movie. I can hear JW.

Daddy keeps me safe and takes care of me. He loves me and says he’s proud of me. I think that actually believes that too. Although there is no reason to be proud of me. I wish I were ten and laying my head on his chest while watching TV in his room.

Note: In depression, I have felt indifference about everything—even being alive. I have experienced a loss of joy—but I have not lost joy in my American Spirit Full Body Original Cigarettes. For 20 years, they have been my best friend. They never let me down, got angry with me, rejected me, or left me and I have returned the loyalty. That’s something I guess.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: God, I’m sorry I am not more worthy and enjoying—I am appreciative—of my Blessings. I’m just sorry.

PPS: Walking with you, Mommy, made me feel better. “Blow the stink off my bod,” as Dad says.

I AM FUCKING DONE!

Dear Hearts,

I wasn’t gonna post tonight, but now my ire is up.

Per some Facebook convo’s—one of whom is my dearest friend--, locking my keys in the trunk of my car, and a grumpy Bugsy…my ire is up a bit.

I AM DONE. FUCKING DONE.

I am done apologizing for:

Being A Republican:

For eight fucking years we told to get to “the back of the bus”—if a white guy had said that he woulda been in deep shit with the media. For eight years, being a Republican ipso facto has been a crime. Stupid. Ignorant. Wrong.

I didn’t want Trump! I fucking never wanted Trump! But ya’ know what!? That’s the candidate the GOP left us with. They failed so many of us. But ya’ know what else?? I can’t stand the idea of fucking Hillary running the country even more! And I am not gonna go into why. I’m done. I am fucking done apologizing. I AM A REPUBLICAN. FUCKING DEAL. I have seven years of college, including a Master’s Degree. I’m not stupid. I don’t think every Hillary supporter is stupid. My mother is one and I love her with all that I am.

For Christ’s sake, Trump is not gonna shut down Planned Parenthood, deport every single illegal, build a wall, kill gays, and molest every woman he can as soon as he becomes president. Try some common fucking sense! He is already backpedaling. You think that Congress and Senate would just sit by and let him do that? Fuck no. Most of them didn’t even support him. Hillary-via Madeline Albright promised me a place in Hell if I didn’t vote for her because she’s a woman. She called me deplorable. I would feel the same fucking way you feel if Hillary were president-elect.  

Because I think the racial divide in this country is worse than ever and that maybe if you fuck with a cop or run from a cop or get in a cop’s face your gonna get shot—Because I think would absolutely be alert if I were on a plane with a Muslim—Because I absolutely hold my purse closer when I see a man who gives me a certain feeling—Because I feel more comfortable in Starbuck in Wayne, NJ instead of Verizon in Patterson, NJ--Because I believe ALL LIVES MATTER…

Then

I’m racist? FUCK YOU.

This is America—we are allowed to dis-a-fucking-gree! Why does the opposite have to be criminalized?

So, Fuck You.

Not Believing Climate Change Is Around The Corner:

I don’t buy all of it. I have my reasons just like a lot of scientists do. So you occupy Wall Street and tell me that the moon landing was faked? But, I’d better believe in climate change. Fuck you, too. I am not going to give up my fucking car or start recycling. I don’t floss either. THEY just decided that flossing doesn’t really matter and coffee is good for you. So, nope. I AM THINKING FOR MY FUCKING SELF.

Smoking:

I smoke. Don’t fucking tell me what the consequences are. Leave me the fuck alone. That bit of second hand smoke you inhaled? It will not kill you anymore that the dozen cars that just passed you! I smoke. It doesn’t fucking affect you. So leave me the fuck alone. Have another Bacon-ator at Wendy’s.

Driving Jersey:

Yeah, I drive the way I drive. WELL. My Jersey dad taught me. So fuck off and drive faster if I’m tailgating you. I will not get ARRESTED FOR NOT STOPPING AT A STOP SIGN FOR THREE FULL SECONDS.

And, I don’t care if you don’t think I am not gonna stop at a light or stop sign—I do. And yes, I can fucking drive with my knees while I arrange my coffee, cigarette, and Sirius.

I’m alive and (Thanks be to God) I’ve never had a ticket—but also I am a good fucking driver. And, if you are criticizing me—I’m driving, not you!

Believing That Morality Matters and Using The Word Morality:

Yes, morality. Morality. Morality. Morality. It matters. So does having a Faith. I believe in being moral and I believe in moral people. No, Trump isn’t one. But, neither if fucking Hillary.

I think America needs more morality.

One of the STRONGEST ARGUMENTS FOR GOD IS THAT THERE ARE MORAL OBJECTIVES.

No asshole, at Bible Study—morality doesn’t fucking change from one day to another. You don’t hurt kids and animals. You don’t cheat on your spouse. You don’t steal…

I am not in any way the Poster-Child for morality, but I fucking believe in it.

AND YES, YOU CAN BE MORAL AND SWEAR AND SMOKE AND BE A REPUBLICAN.

In the words of Dennis Miller: That’s just my opinion, I could be wrong. But I’m done fucking apologizing for it.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: I LOVE ALL WHO ARE READING THIS. BUT I GOTTA VENT.

NOT GONNA SAY IT…

Manderley

Dear Hearts,

“Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” Rebecca

Always when I dream of being in Manderley (England) I find a religious-nirvana-experience of peace deep in my Soul. My Heart’s Home.

Last night, I dreamt went to England again. I was anxious, frustrated, and out-of-place.

Where Do I belong?

Where Is Home?

God? Christ?

Who Am I?

What Do I Want To Do?

I am a wondering ship looking for the Light House.

“And Grace will lead me Home.” Please, God, ‘cuz I don’t feel like I belong anywhere.

Mother Mary—Thank You.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: What does a compliment or two or three cost you? I complimented a cowboy on his boots and hat and a woman on her Coach bag. That can turn someone’s day—I know.

PPS: If Hillary were President-Elect and Trumpeters were protesting and rioting, they would be hanged (yes, pictures are hung; people are hanged) on the nearest gallows. The media would be decrying the Trump Protesters as ignorant, racist, and evil. Ok, so the White Vote put Trump in office. So? What’s your point?

PPPS: My favorite book...Rebecca

11/11/16

Dear Hearts,

I don’t have to go anywhere for like 24 hours.

I am thrilled. I am skipping dinner at Aunt Faerie’s and just staying home. I feel guilty about G-Pa driving there alone in the dark. But, I’m still not going.

Last night around 10 p.m., I started in with an episode. The idea of taking G-Pa to the two Veterans’ Day Events just seemed overwhelming. I am such a pussy.

G-Pa is almost 96. He was to a Veterans’ Breakfast at the high school at 7 a.m.! Peter, a family friend, went with him. Thanks be to God! That’s fucking early!

I took him to…

(G-Pa just got home from his Friday afternoon usual with Dr. Swede. And, he brought me an iced-coffee. The Iced Coffee from The Covered Bridge is the best iced-coffee EVER!)

I took G-Pa to the park this morning for a Veterans’ Service. We were supposed to go to St. Matthew’s Elementary School at one p.m. for an assembly the kids were putting on. I decided to take a small nap—thinking I’d wake up in the hour I had before go time. But, when I woke up and looked at my watch it was one p.m.!

So I high-tailed it to St. Matthew’s and found an empty seat beside G-Pa. He

said he didn’t have the heart to wake me, because I was sleeping so good. I was too. A Barbie pillow and Gram’s afghan. Wonderful sleep. I digress. I saw most of the assembly with him.

It seemed to mean a lot to him that I had come.  He said so twice anyway.

He is almost 96 and he can do four different events in one day and I can’t even stay awake the whole day.

But, shhhh. I am carrying around Hummer’s worth of distress, uncertainty, and fear deep inside me in the dark. Shhhh. We don’t want to wake the demons up.

No, this isn’t an excuse. I’m still a pussy.

After he left with Dr. Swede, I changed into clean (not worn outside the house) clothes and had one of my three o’clock lunches: 12 Triscuits, a banana, a yogurt smoothie, and two little peppermint patties. I watched a silly show on Netflix and just sat. Actually, I put in laundry and started the dishwasher. Oooooh, how taxing.

This was my week:

Sunday: Aunt Faerie at 2.30 p.m. at The Bakery for a chit-chat and a walk—and the best every pumpkin cinnamon bun roll thing ever!

Monday: Burning Bed three hours. Walmart. Aunt Faerie’s for dinner

Tuesday: Burning Bed for a few hours. Then tea with Ingrid and her friends. Dinner at Aunt Faerie’s.

ELECTION NIGHT

Wednesday: Meeting with Dr. Swede to discuss theology. Then, therapy.

Thursday: Pie day including a long drive in the country. Peter joined us and almost unleashed Aunt Faerie’s deeply hidden and controlled rage by talking Trump. She paid a high price for tea that day. Dinner at Aunt Faerie’s House.

Today: 10:30 Veterans’ Service. One p.m. St Matthew’s.

Last night I’d had it. Yeah, because my week was so taxing.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why does daily life—NOT EVEN WORK—exhaust me? How did I ever work at Caroline’s this summer?

Martha, my therapist, says it’s because I haven’t socialized this much in a long time. And, this summer, I hadn’t “officially” moved here.

I have managed to shove X way down in the psyche.

SNAP OUT IT! YOU STUPID BITCH!

I’m trying. I am trying to do all the right things. As usual. Because doing the right things has worked out so well for me in the past.

I have been drawing a lot more. I find that I don’t totally suck at it and I enjoy it. Oh, don’t worry! It’s not pure joy! Guilt and self-doubt is absolutely mixed in there! Phew.

“We are meant to be here. We step from one piece of holy ground to the next under starts that ask imagine for one second, you could drop in on a past life. What would you like to find yourself doing there? What would charm you…make you proud? Ask yourself that and the question of what to do in this life becomes so simple, it’s terrifying. Just do that thing that would charm you that would make you say, yes, this is the real me. Do that and you’re alive.” Millennium

I used to think I knew what that was. England. Writing. Marriage.

I don’t even have a mustard seed of an idea. I’ve been on disability two years. Yeah, I’m so proud of myself. I failed myself. And God.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: To G-Pa and all those who have given to our country by serving in the military, I am deeply and profoundly grateful. Veterans are heroes (CAUGHT OR NOT).

I can sit here writing this anonymous blog because some pompous idealistic Founding Fathers created These United States of America. People can demonstrate against the president-elect because of our constitution.

America is the Greatest Country because we are FREE and based on a Government By The People, For The People, Of The People.

A Grateful Nation.

PS: It just dawned on me. At home, I had three choices: death, hospital, or come here. I guess I can't expect a lost cause...

What The Trump?! Part 2.

Dear Hearts,

I have figured out the ambivalence with Trump winning.

I could wax on with legitimate reasons why I don’t like Hillary. But to what end. In the last week or so I was preparing myself to have Hillary as the president. I was trying to think of some of the positives.

I hated Trump. As I said I was in the Never Trump Camp.

But last night, the guy I voted for started winning. No one likes voting for a loser. Each state meant NOT HILLARY.

There are two BIG LEAGUE outcomes to a Trump Administration:

1.     He will be an amazing president and Make America GreatER.

2.     He will totally suck and be the worst president ever.

There are not in-betweens with Trump.

There is the ambivalence. As is shown by my marked up Trump bumper-sticker.

And, suddenly it’s OKAY to be a GOPer. Fucking YAY! The Republicans are not “in the back of the bus anymore.”

See with Hillary with knew what we'd be getting: Badness. With Trump there is a chance.

It’s a gamble. A risk. HUGE.

Sink like Hoffa wearing cement shoes or soar like a 2016 Reagan.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

What The Trump?!

Dear Hearts,

I am ashamed. But I happy.

I am happy Trump won the presidency.

But I feel like I ought to feel bad about it. I was in The Never Trump camp.

(I’m so tired. In 2000, my dad and I stayed up all night to watch the election. I went to bed around 2 a.m. CT. Just after Hillary official conceded. I guess I’m not 23 anymore. I was student teaching then. However, in 2000 being able to watch something on the online the next day was not a given.)

History was made last night. All the pollsters, and hipster, and rock n’ rollers, holy rollers, and mamas pushing baby strollers were dead wrong.

History was made last night whether it’s good or bad…we’ll have to wait and see.

I am a Republican. I will proudly keep on wearing my GOP hat with my Reagan/Bush pin.

Trump is the first elected president to never have previously held a political office and/or served in the military.

I have had my Trump/Pence bumper sticker for a while now. I crossed Trump out with a Sharpie and circled Pence’s name some scandal. Around the time everyone was calling for Trump to step down—even Condi. I can’t remember what that scandal was about now.

Rubio. Rubio has been my guy for four years. After he dropped out, I pulled his bumper sticker off my car. It came off in pieces like Rubio’s heart.

Reagan is my hero. I was raised on Reagan. And the Bush Dynasty. HW is a good, moral man. His mistake: not going all the way to Baghdad in Gulf War I. I was inspired by W., who made some major mistakes: No Child Left Behind; Intelligent Design; limiting stem cell research; and the Bail-Out.

There are no more Reagans or Bushes.

At Burning Bed, when I was working on organizing the library, I found Hard Choices by Hillary Clinton. Instead of throwing putting in the donation pile (like I did to one of that communist Larsson’s books) I stood Hillary up on the bottom shelf and it “prominently displayed.” Below a stack of Bibles.

I was trying to come to terms with the fact that Hillary was going to win and be the president. I have not liked her since 1992 (I was like 13/14 then). I don’t trust her and I don’t think is a good person. I never have. The idea that she would be our first woman president was sickening to me. When I started watching the coverage last night, I felt physical disgust until I realized Trump had a chance.

This election was always about “Whom do you hate less?” I debated and debated and searched my conscience about voting for Trump.

I don’t think that Trump is a good man or has any morals either. I’d like to hope he does. Although to his credit, his kids turned out very well. Now Ivanka—I could get behind her.

For me, it was anybody but the Clintons back in the White House.

Last night I found myself cheering as the returns came in. Then I felt less like it was my abhorrence of Hillary and more that I wanted Trump to win.

WHY?

I deeply identify with the GOP. They could have and should have stopped Trump a long time ago. I wanted my team to win. I think Melania is classy. (Her $250,000 wedding dress was exquisite—oh Dior!) Trump is not the GOP—or is he? I don’t know.

I think that Trump has said a HUGE amount of bat-shit crazy stuff to appeal to one crowd or another. I think it’s entirely possible that he bought a big part of this election. I think the real Trump is the Trump I saw in the acceptance speech. I hope so.

I don’t think Trump molests women. He is far too smart of a businessman to be so stupid.

Hillary—BENGHAZI—I feel kinda bad for her. She’s over. Done. She has nothing now. Will Chelsea and Co. be enough for her? I hope so. She gave up love to be a politician.

I don’t think Trump ever thought he’d get as far as he did—but when he started winning, he was not going to lose. Trump is not going to do a quarter of the stuff he’s threatened or promised. Obama’s top priority was Gitmo and it’s still open!

I wish a candidate with morals had won. Hell, even Obama has morals. He is a good man. I’d like to have a cigarette and coffee with the man. (Yes, he still smokes. Duh.)

Trump did it. Trump won America with all the democrats undeniably against him and without much help from the GOP Establishment.

I guess everyone is tired of business as usual. I think that’s what Hillary represented. And to have Bill back in the White House after he fucked and intern and shoved a cigar in her pussy. There I said it! It’s true. And, it’s fucking gross. You don’t do that in the Oval. Unless your Fitz and Olivia.

Trump may be unprincipled, but at least he’s “honest” about it. America needs a change. We really do. Cops being assassinated in the streets. Free speech limited in the classroom. Safe spaces. Iran going nuclear.

It wasn’t the “White-Trash” vote that put him over the edge. What cemented Trump’s victory were people like me (my NY vote didn’t count anyway) who just quietly voted for Trump. I bet the better of Trump GOP-enemies voted for him.

Krauthammer said last night on TV that this is a Reaganesque Revolution.

Trump is what most politicians are—he just says it out loud.

I didn’t do a write in, because that was the same as not voting. And, as I thought of my write I was thinking, Gee, I hope Trump wins. I decided to be intellectually honest and just vote for the man.

I thought I might have a profound point here.

People want heroes.

We want to look up to the president and say, “Yeah, he has got America.” Trump gave that to a lot of people.

As long as Melania doesn’t fuck with any Jackie-décor at the White House, I’m cool with her. I may even like her. At least she has style.

My mother is crushed and my dad is elated. I think Aunt Faerie and Bugsy are moving to the South of France. Shit. Who’s gonna feed me and G-Pa now? I feel like the GOP, me, my party are not the losers. (For the record Aunt Faerie did not approve of my censoring the Larsson book. She didn’t say anything—that’s how I know she didn’t approve. But he was a bloody subversive communist.)

I felt I had a stake in the Bush years. I want to have a stake again. I have had that in eight years. Maybe voting for Trump is just symptomatic of my being crazy and having anxiety-daddy issues.

Or maybe Trump and the new First Lady are the first of their ilk in the White House. Maybe it is a revolution. Maybe it’s throwing out the baby and the bathwater and starting all over again. With a crazy plan—because the sensible plan failed.

Maybe that’s what I identify with.

America never stopped being great.

WE THE PEOPLE are America. It's our morality, standards, values, and ideals that propel this Great Country forward. No matter what happens tomorrow will be much the same for us. The good and the bad. Our Founding Fathers built our country that way--no one person or group in control. So I am proud to be an American.

Maybe Trump can help me drain my swamp too.

Rubio 2020?

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: AT LEAST THE ELECTION IS OVER! HALLE-FUCKING-JULAH!