No Debate

I have a question. Why is it considered insane to talk to yourself? I have found talking to myself to be what keeps me sane. I sometimes use Max as a shill, even though we’re the only ones in the room. There are some things I can talk to him about and some things I need to work out with myself, and then other things that are simply none of his business. Max is my congregation. He has heard more sermons from me than probably all of the people I’ve ever known combined. Max is a good therapist. He listens well, when he’s paying attention or hasn’t lost interest.

Throughout the holiday season, which I am extending to Valentine’s Day, he has held on at 20 pounds showing that he’s done better at the diet thing than I have. Me, well the Valentine’s Day extension won’t help, but it’s another first goal as the Ex and I have started our weight loss pact again. He thought that losing one pound by Valentine’s Day is a bit tame, after he asked me when Valentine’s Day is, but we’ll both probably push it a bit and he’ll do better than me, because he’s got about three times as much weight to lose as I do. His buddy just had a heart attack, so the Ex is more motivated. The friend is alright now, but the Ex was bemoaning the similarities in their physiques, not to mention their long grey ponytails. You gotta love us aging boomers.

The Ex and I have similar views and values and we differ on some issues, and that’s fine. However, the other day I heard myself tell him that if he was not agreeing with me I was not going to talk about it. It was not open for debate. He was defending some trump supporters and I feel there is no defense. [As a courtesy, I will warn those of you reading along who would like to avoid my political rants, I am starting one now. ]

Arguing is not something I am very good at, so I’d rather not, thank you, but everything in my being, every organ, every muscle, even my toenails and hair follicles, is telling me I must get out there and fight. I first thought I must go to the Women’s March on DC, but couldn’t get on the NOW bus. Then the NYC March had been organized and I could go to that. Not enough though, so I volunteered to work as crowd control. I had such an exhilarating day that I need to share it, but I will give it more time to write it coherently so perhaps you can follow along. I’m still a bit giddy and have already scribbled tomes about the mere quarter of one day that is still resonating inside me. I will say this, my Facebook friends were already treated to a picture of me wearing a pink pussy hat and though it is so not my thing, I looked happy and comfortable doing so, because I was. What can I say? I got swept up. So, if you don’t mind coming back during the week, I think I will have a nice little story for you.

But, I promised you a rant didn’t I. Here you are: I believe trump finds the rifts he has caused in this country to be quite satisfying. Look at the power I have, he’s thinking. He’s trying to divide us to feed his ego, yes, but from what I saw, what we all saw yesterday, his presence is creating a tighter weave throughout the world. He is narrowing the chasms drawing us closer each day. We are bonded in our disgust for him. We don’t say nice things about him. We are the majority. Let’s make his life a living hell.

Oh, and Kellyanne Conway, I have two words for you – Lee Atwater.

BTW – Did Putin actually say that Russia has the best prostitutes, or was that a spoof or fake news, or did I dream it?

One last thing, my Millennial staff member just learned after having to take the young dog she adopted to the vet, that she had been shot, twice, as a puppy. Who fucking does that? She’ll be taken care of physically and mentally, but how much of a moron do you have to be to shoot a puppy.