Posted in writing

Election Day

The day we’ve been waiting two years for has finally arrived.  Election Day.  The day Americans have the power to have their voices heard.  To make choices.  For the good and for the bad.

In my state of Massachusetts we’ve been able to vote early since October 22.  That’s the day I voted.  Now I understand that many of the robocallers and survey takers have no way of knowing I’ve already voted.  But if you wanted to try to convince me so much to vote “yes” or “no” on your question, you should’ve started calling me way before October 22.

Just now, at 2:00 p.m. on Election Day, I got a call from none other than the Visiting Nurse’s Association asking me to vote “yes” on question 1.  I shit you not.  I told her I cast my vote on October 22 and I voted “no”.  No way in hell would I ever vote “yes” on something that would make our hospitals worse than they already are.

I received the book in the mail outlining all the questions and what they were about.  I read them all.  I understood them all.  I don’t need any caller to try to convince me otherwise.  Especially after I already voted.  Even if I hadn’t already voted I STILL would have voted “no”.  In fact, the only question I voted “yes” on was number 3 because I feel it’s a human right for anyone to use whatever gender facility they feel comfortable using.  I don’t need a robocaller to tell me stories to convince me otherwise.  Especially after I already voted.  Sorry, too late.  You lose.  You lost anyway because I had already made up my mind.

Oh, and did I vote straight Democrat?  Yes, except for Governor Charlie Baker.  I feel if the sink isn’t broken, there’s no need to fix it.  Shit, I think he’s done a way better job for this state than many Democrats before him.

If you are someone who hasn’t voted yet, well, you have about six more hours to do so.  Make your voice count. Because it does.  More than a robocaller.

Vote like your life depends on it.  Because it very well does.

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Posted in nostalgia

Life. Well Spent.

The recent bankruptcy of Sears brought to mind my earliest adulthood shopping memory.

The Sears card was my very first credit card.  It was 1989 and I was a newly working 18-year-old.  I had only been employed since June.  It was the Christmas shopping season and I visited the store where I fell in love with a keyboard that was $150.00.

“You should apply for a credit card and then you can buy the keyboard,” my mother told me.

I didn’t really know what a credit card was but apply for it I did.  And received it I did.  And bought the keyboard I did.  Nearly thirty years later I still have the keyboard and the credit card.

Over the years Sears became my stand-by store for clothes.  If I couldn’t find nice dress clothes at Caldor’s, Ames, The Fair or any other department store at the time (and there was no way I was going to find nice clothes at any of those stores), I went to Sears.  When I needed a decent winter coat, I went to Sears.  For the past twenty years I have shopped there on Black Friday just to buy beautiful, quality dress shirts as Christmas gifts for my husband.  It’s the only place I’ve ever been able to find a decent purse.  Sears was the only place I could find the pair of fashion boots my daughter wanted for school.  I don’t know how many photos of my daughter were taken in their Portrait Studio over the years.  They are some of the best professional photos I have of her.

From what I’ve been hearing the Sears stores that are still standing plan on being around through at least the end of the year and will have their annual Black Friday sale.  Unless that changes, I will be there.  It’ll probably be our last hurrah.

Sears has been a staple in my life and I’m so sad to see it go.

Posted in writing

We Really Don’t Care

Apparently when she “created” her “BeBest” campaign, Melania Trump only had one person in mind for what it was supposed to be for:  herself.  I say this because today she declared herself the most bullied person in the world.

She didn’t want herself to “BeBest”.  She wanted everyone else in the world to “BeBest” to her.

It doesn’t matter that she joined her shithole “husband” with his racist “birtherism” movement against President Obama.

It doesn’t matter that she wore a jacket that prominently displayed the message “I really don’t care, do u?” on the back while she jetted off to allegedly visit detainment camps in Texas which held innocent immigrant children.

Melania has proven more than once that yes, she really doesn’t care.  About anyone but herself.  I find it difficult to believe she even cares about her child.

That’s why she and SHITHOLE are meant for each other.  They’re both narcissists.  They’re both cheaters.  They’re both grifters.  Both are in it only for what they can get out of it.  When all is said and done, neither one will have anything.  And that’s what bullies deserve.