Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: election

Sad sigh happy sigh WTF 2020

I spent too much time in the bathroom last night. I’m doubly mad because it was because of something I’ve eaten before. I’m guessing because I haven’t eaten anything new. What is the food? Sweet corn. I think. Maybe it was the eggs I made earlier? Could be, but I doubt it. I really hope it’s not eggs because I love them so much. I like sweet corn, too, but not as much. Here’s the thing. I’ve been eating sweet corn for a week or two with no problem. Last night, I decided to steam about eight ounces and eat that. Half yellow and half white. The yellow was the old bag and white was the new. I had eaten half the old bag with no issue. I ate the corn no problem, then less than an hour later, I was sitting on the toilet thinking nasty thoughts about corn and my digestive system in general.

Today, I Googled IBS and sweet corn. It’s considered a high FODMAP food in large amounts. This is for fresh, which is probably the same for frozen. What is considered low FODMAP? Half an ear of corn. Roughly one ounce. Well.

Can I say how pissed I am that fruits and vegetables are becoming such a pain in my ass–literally–in my forties? I had it hammered into me as a young girl to eat my five servings a day. Fruits and vegetables are good for you! They are the best! You have to eat them for your vitamins! Fine and dandy until they bite back. So far, I have issues with grapes, apples, plums, berries, and ripe bananas–which, by the way, is the way I like them. I can only eat barely ripe bananas now, which I’m not happy about.

Vegetable-wise, cauliflower, garlic, and onion are on the no-go list. You know, it might not be the sweet corn. Maybe it’s the pickled asparagus spears. I had eaten them the day before as well, though. I just looked it up. Asparagus is also a High FODMAP food. *sigh*.

Oh! I read that there is a low level of arsenic in rice. Really?

There’s a part of me that just doesn’t want to eat any longer. It’s so difficult and I hate having to spend hours in the bathroom. I could test the sweet corn hypothesis, but my body recoils at doing it. I probably will because I’m cheap like that but also because I really don’t want to have to cut out sweet con/corn if I don’t have to.

You know what? I’ve had issues eating popcorn before, but nothing that was too severe. Just some stomach pain. Nothing too bad so I just dismissed it. But, given this new information, corn may be on The List.

I’m so mad! I’m just trying to be healthy by eating more vegetables and my body is not having any of it. Well, not having some of it. Irritates the fuck out of me. What could be healthier than steamed veggies? At least, that’s the way it should be.

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NaNo rebel coming in hot

I’m writing this on Election Day and I’m stridently ignoring that tidbit until later tonight. I already voted a few weeks ago by mail so I don’t have to do anything today. Four years ago, I was pretty sure that Clinton would win so I watched with eagerness. My excitement turned to dread as the returns came in. Ian was with me and we both were stunned. I sunk into a deep depression when I realized the results and it was doubly terrible because I had been so sure Clinton would win.

Fast-forward to this year. Most of the predictions including Nate Silver (the one who called it for the president and got pilloried for it. I am ashamed to admit I was one who decried him for fearmongering for clickbait) are overwhelmingly pro-Biden, but I am not going to let that happen to me again. I’m hopeful it’s going to be Biden-Harris (though I have no love for Biden), but I have the growing dread that the president will somehow manage to get away with it. I don’t know what it means, but that it’ll be four more years.

So let’s not talk about it. Let’s talk about NaNoWriMo instead. Or NaNo Rebel. Or whatever. In two days, I’ve written 8,000 words. To be fair, I started at midnight on the 1st, which I count as the 31st of October in my brain (day doesn’t start until I get up), but it feels good to have almost 10,000 under my belt. It’s me writing a thousand words at a time–sometimes forcing myself. I had been trying to be kind and allowing myself to take breaks whenever I wanted. That led to me writing for five minutes, breaking for ten minutes, taking a smoke break, then back to writing for five minutes. Rinse, lather, repeat.

Now, I’ve told myself firmly that I have to write a thousand words before I can do anything else. Then, I take a small break and do a thousand more. It’s not been easy, but it’s been invigorating. It really has changed my writing habit and drastically. In addition, I feel better about this project than I did when I was babying myself.

To be clear–I’m not putting down self-care. I think it’s important to  know your limits and to honor the fact that it’s a really difficult time right now. There are days when you simply cannot (this seems to be one of them for me), but at least for me, it’s time to be a bit more strict with myself and only myself.

In addition, I set the goal of writing 100,000 words this month. I’m still sticking to it, but I’m toying with a few twists to my goal. For one thing, I want to do a short bio of each of the main characters. Or rather, a backstory for each. Especially each sister and the aunt because they are so important. Like a snapshot of each. It wouldn’t be included in the novel, but it would be a good addendum to the trilogy.

Nothing big. Just 5,000 word snippets of each character. There probably wouldn’t be one for the main character because all three novels have snippets of her life. Plus, a few of the besties. Maybe seven in total? That’s an extra 35,000 words. If I do that, then I really won’t finish by the end of the year. But it intrigues me. Therefore, I may do it. One of my issues is being very rigid in my thinking and once I get something in my head, I have a hard time bending from what I said I was going to do.

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Struggling to Grasp Our New Reality (Show)

munch munch munch
Get your popcorn ready!

If I look at what’s happening as a reality show, it’s hilarious. Trump’s transition team in disarray. Trump declaring that everything is fine and that only he knows who the finalists (for the cabinet positions) are. Many months ago, I suggested we declare him Trump of Trumponia, set in Scranton, where he can sit on a golden throne and rule over his Trumpettes with a golden scepter. People laughed, but I was being half-serious. I’ve known since almost the beginning that he doesn’t really want to be president because it’s a fucking tough job. The daily news that he wants this person for a position, then that person, then, oh no, that person declined, or, no, not that person is gobsmacking. They are the Keystone Kops of politics, and, as I said, if this were a reality show, I’d be laughing my flat yellow ass off.

However. This is reality, minus the show, and it’s horrifying. This is the team that’s going to take over the presidency? We’re going from PBO to THIS? I’ve been stuck in denial for the past several days because my brain simply refuses to believe this is actually happening. The last week has been surreal, and I desperately want it to be just a dream. A nightmare. And from which I’d like to wake up.

One thing I’d like to suggest is that we all slow our roll on the rumors of whom Trump is appointing to what position. Unless it’s already been officially stated, we don’t know what the hell he’s going to do because he doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to do. So, while it’s understandable to get riled up over possibilities such as Rudy Giuliani as Secretary of State or AG, it’s not productive until he’s actually appointed. I’m not saying not to protest or start gathering our resources because we only have two months, but save the outrage for actual events–not just reports and rumors.

I have my doubts as to whether Trump will actually make it to the inauguration. He’s out of his depth, and I have a hunch that he realizes it. His defensive tweets show it. His staff doubling down on ‘everything’s fine’ shows it, too. Every time he opens his mouth, he shows his ignorance. PBO has realized it as well and is spending more time with Trump than a president usually does with his successor.

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Rage Into the Night

soothing for my soul

I am sorry there was no post this morning. I think many of you can understand why. I watched the returns last night, my heart sinking further and further as the night went on. I went to bed before the official declaration, but I knew by the time I tried to sleep, what the result would be.

I cried myself to sleep. Huddled in a small, tight ball, the blankets pulled up over my suddenly chilled body.

I knew. I knew a vast swathe of this country hated me because of my skin color, my sexuality, my gender, and a whole number of other things. I’m old. I’m tired. I’m cynical. I’m not stupid or naive.

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Time to Vote: Let’s Do This, Minnesota!

All right, folks. I have a holiday (election) poem for you. Strap it up. We’re doing this!

A Visit from President Obama

Twas the night before elections, and all through the house,
Everyone was panicking, causing me to grouse;
I had my laptop on my lap, typing with speed,
Hoping that America wouldn’t be consumed with greed;
I will offer links to help Minnesotans with voting;
Then sit, whimpering in a corner, overcome with not knowing;
My eyes are so heavy, and I’d really like to sleep,
But reading about the election is making me weep,
Suddenly, on the internet, there arose such a clatter,
I had to check Twitter to see what was the matter.
Away to my tabs, I raced with trepidation,
To see what had agitated the entire Twitter nation.
Ann Coulter, desperate to be relevant, opened her yap,
Spouting her usual hateful rhetoric and claptrap,
When what to my wondering eyes did I see done,
But President Obama stepping off Air Force One,
With Michelle by his side and a radiant smile,
He invited me to stay awhile (and listen). Continue Reading

Political Stress Getting to You? Take a Break!

The elections are less than a week away, and if you’re a political junkie at all*, you’re probably feeling stressed as hell. It doesn’t help that you can check stats every second of the day if you want to, and while I wouldn’t recommend it, I know many political junkies can’t help themselves. I see tweets all the time about how we can’t be complacent, how we have to be STRESSED OUT AS HELL ALL THE FUCKING TIME. The implication is if you’re not freaking out about the elections 24/7, you’re helping Trump become the King of Trumponia, and you should be deeply ashamed of yourself. It’s been that way for almost a year, and that kind of anxiety simply isn’t sustainable. Well, it is, but at a serious cost to your mental (and physical) health.

I have had to pull way back from politics this year because every time I think about a President Trump, I start hyperventilating. That’s not an exaggeration. My heart clutches, and my breathing becomes very shallow. It scares the fuck out of me to contemplate going from an Obama presidency to a Trump one, so I stopped following politics so closely because I don’t need the nightmares. There is only so much I can do in the area I live, so keeping myself constantly agitated isn’t helpful to anyone. Minnesota is going to go for Clinton. I will vote for her. The end. I’m more perturbed by the fact that no other race is being highlighted at all. The Dems have a real shot at taking back the Senate and a longer shot at flipping the House, but i don’t hear about that at all. As important as it is to make sure that Trump doesn’t become president, it’s even more important to give President Clinton (please, please, please) a Congress with whom she can work. The current Congressional Republicans vowed to block PBO at every turn, and they’re already saying they’ll do the same thing to a President Clinton.

I can feel my heartbeat quickening as I type. I don’t appreciate being told I have to be anxious from now until Tuesday because I can do that on my own, thank you very much. In addition, it’s a misbegotten sense of self-importance to think that any one person makes a difference. Yes, it’s true that if everyone thought that way, it would change things drastically. However, if I decide not to vote and everything else remains the same, it won’t matter at all. We Americans have a weirdly-inflated sense of ego, and it bemuses me every time it flares up. ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS THING! WITHOUT YOU, WE’RE NOTHING! The DNC sends me emails like this all the time, which I stridently ignore, but I do see the subject lines, which alternate between sheer despair and an appeal to my ego. MINNA WE ARE LOSING AND ONLY YOU CAN SAVE US. I’m not fucking Wonder Woman, bitch. There’s only so much I can do, and my fifty dollars isn’t going to get you very far.

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The Election is a Wedding, Not the Marriage

just no
Wake me up when it’s over.

I give. Please. Is this election over yet? I can’t take any more. This election season seems longer than ever, like the endless engagement of a girlfriend who can’t stop talking about the minutiae of her wedding. “My colors are going to be teal and ivory!” “I think wisteria is better than baby’s breath, don’t you?” “My dress is sleeveless and has a V-neck.” “I can’t book the church I want. What am I going to do?” “I’m thinking of having three different entrees for dinner. Is that too many?” “Should we have a free ba–where are you going?” The last said as I flee the room, screaming, pulling my hair out at the same time. I am not a big fan of weddings, and I don’t understand why women get so wrapped up in planning them, but they’re still infinitely preferable to this election season.

The third and last? (god, I hope it’s the last. Please?) debate is tonight. I’m not watching because there’s nothing Trump could say that would change my mind. More to the point, listening to him talk does weird things to my brain. I know this sounds bizarre, but any time he starts talking, my brain starts sliding out of place as it tries to decipher what he’s trying to say. He speaks with such confidence, but his words are pure gibberish. My brain simply cannot comprehend what he’s trying to say, and it cries every time he skips from one topic to another without realizing that he’s not making any fucking sense. To put it plainly, he freaks my brain out. There have been a few other politicians who have done so, such as Sarah Palin.

Speaking of Palin, she was one of Trump’s guests at the debate tonight. Why? Who the hell knows. Clinton was supposed to be shaken by the appearance of her because….um….I got nothing. Even though it was cruel, at least Trump bringing in Bill’s accusers made some twisted sense. But, Palin? She has nothing to do with Clinton at all. Clinton has eaten Palins for lunch for the last twenty years. I’m sure seeing Palin in the audience didn’t matter to Clinton a whit. I think it’s because Trump was so rattled by Mark Cuban being in the audience that he thought it would work on Clinton, too. That’s one of the things about Trump that should be evidently clear to everyone by now. He’s a raging narcissist and believes that he’s the standard for everything. If he thinks something, then others must think it, too. If he feels something, then so must everyone else. Therefore, if he was upset by Mark Cuban being in the audience*, then Clinton should be upset by her detractors in the audience, too. It makes some kind of cunning sense, but Clinton is a consummate pro. She’s been dealing with detractors for all of her damn life, and she’s not about to be rattled by them now. Continue Reading

Self-Care in the Time of Hate and Cholera

I’ve written a post or two about the elections, and now I want to write about why I’m not paying more attention to it. I know it’s important–probably the most important presidential election in my life. The consequences are great, and the idea of a President Trump makes me want to cry. I have issues with Clinton, most notably, her hawkish nature when it comes to foreign policy, but I have no doubt that she will be a highly competent president in most ways. Trump on the other hand would be a total disaster. That’s not hyperbole. Look at how he reacts to someone ribbing him on Twitter and imagine how he’d react the first time Vladimir Putin openly laughs at him. When Trump first entered the race, everybody was laughing about it, but I couldn’t even muster a forced giggle. Why? Because I was afraid of this. Trump being one of two people who might become president of America. Even though it was such a slim chance at the time, slim was too much for me. In addition, the sight/sound of him does something weird to my brain, and I ignored him as much as possible. People said he would never make it out of the primary, but he just kept climbing in the polls. Then, the unthinkable happened and he was the Republican candidate for president, and it wasn’t a laughing matter any longer.

Quite side note: I didn’t watch any of the primary debates. I don’t see the point in them because they’re not going to tell me anything I don’t already know. They seem to be more about scoring points and optics, two things in which I have no interest. I already knew I was going to vote for Sanders on the Democratic side, and I couldn’t stomach watching the shit show that was the Republican primary on the other side. I’ve been burned out on politics for quite some time, even though I’m more conversant on politics than the majority of Americans. Once we stumbled our way into the generals, I was totally done with the election, even if it wasn’t done with me.

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Election Fatigue: Is It Over Already?

The first debate was tonight, and I made myself ghost on social media as it was happening because I just. don’t. care. Mind you, it’s not that I don’t care about the election or the fact that the Orange Cheeto might be president, something that continues to bamboozle my little brain, but I’m tired of all the angst, and  I’m tired of how fucking long this has been going on. We should be like France and only allow the official election to last for a few weeks and ads are free. Our election has been going on for over a year, and we still have a month and a half to go. I’ve cut way back on politics since the last election, and I’m glad I made that decision. Any time I listen to Trump, my brain becomes discombobulated trying to translate what he’s saying. Yes, I know he’s nominally speaking English, but the way he orders his words makes no sense to me. I cannot believe that he’s one of the two people in the running to be the leader of our country. I also can’t believe that there are people who want someone with no political experience at all to be our fucking president. I know that there are problems with having lifelong politicians, but I don’t think the answer is vote for someone who doesn’t have ANY experience.

In addition, it didn’t seem like there was any way for Clinton to win this debate. She would be considered too shrill, too cold, too condescending, too WHAT THE FUCK EVER. Have you SEEN her opponent? He’s lucky if he can walk and tie his shoes at the same time. He can’t speak in complete, coherent sentences, and the only person he loves is himself. He has no policies of which to speak, and he–oh, hell. If I were to list all the reasons he’s not fit to be president, I would have to type until my fingers fall off. Suffice to say, he’s emblematic of everything that is wrong with America. Loud, bombastic, know-nothing, jingoistic, ugly American. I’m not saying that’s all America is, but there is a sizable portion of our country that is like that. Waving foam fingers in the air as they chant, “We’re number one! We’re number one!” When in reality, we’re not number one in much of anything, except maybe consumerism. Don’t take this as me hating America; I don’t. I don’t love it, either, but that’s a post for another day. I just hate how some Americans think we’re better than everyone else, especially when we’re lagging behind in many quality of life measurements.

On social media, I posted that I wanted Clinton to come out to this song:

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