This is your president , America .
Unless the electoral college swings Hillary’s way , or there’s sufficient evidence of voter fraud by the right . Unfortunately both of these scenarios are highly unlikely . As is the idea that the outcome is an elaborate practical joke by Ashton Kutcher .
While I am saddened that so many good people will have to endure both 4 to 8 years of Trump’s legislation and the ridicule of Trump’s supporters , perhaps it’s what needs to happen . It might sound harsh , but 47% of you didn’t vote ,didn’t think it was important enough . Maybe 4 to 8 years of laying in the bed you made will get you off of your precious asses next time . You acted like children cause you didn’t like either candidate and that made you feel like you weren’t included . Awe poor baby , never learned that politicians aren’t there to be liked , but rather to make the hard choices that hopefully make lives better . Now you must be punished like children and be forced to wear your Halloween costume for at least 4 years .
Suck it up , buttercup .
Claire Foy as the queen
I have just binge watched the first season of the new netflix show The Crown . It’s a beautiful recounting of Queen Elizabeth’s first years as queen . Wonderfully portrayed by Claire Foy, a relatively unknown actress , I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of . The casting was excellent , most everyone resembled their part,in both looks and attitude . My mother who remembers that time well was impressed with how well each plot point resembled the original . Personally , I have but one complaint with the series thus far . It involves the character of Winston Churchill , brilliantly portrayed by John Lithgow .
Lithgow as Churchill
It’s no longer a secret that Churchill had a minor stroke in 1949 and a second major stroke at the age of 78 in 1953 which was kept secret until his death in 1965 . It’s known that he had paralysis down his left side as well as facial droop. The Crown made a plot point of both strokes but there was no physical change with the exception of a minor change to his left hand . No facial drooping , no change in mobility . He used a cane both pre and post stroke. It’s not easy to keep a stroke hidden especially when you’re a public figure who appears on admittedly low definition black and white camera . Then the series made it seem like only a few weeks until he was fully recovered . While his recovery was indeed rare especially during the 1950s , I can’t imagine it took mere weeks . And while every stroke is unique as is each person’s ability to recover , the stroke that almost took his life as it’s now referred to , couldn’t have been entirely overcome in less than a month .
Heart surgery , a massive stroke I have yet to completely overcome and now another major surgery in a year and 3 months. I mentioned in August that I had a pelvic ultrasound and I was worried about getting more bad news , well after an MRI to confirm what the ultrasound caught and to catch another thing, I learned that I have cysts on my ovaries , my fallopian tubes are engorged and my uterine lining is doing something akin to endometriosis but isn’t that and apparently I need a full hysterectomy . I’m not sure I can summon the strength to go through another surgery . Yes I know the saying that which doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. But seriously how much fucking stronger do I have to be ? Really , I want to know . Medically , this has been the worst year of my life . but I’ve been dealt a shitty hand most of my life . From physical abuse to emotional abuse to multiple rapes , I have endured as only a woman can I’ve seen the ugly side of life .The side no one should ever see .And have not complained or whined . I’ve stayed strong . In fact , I am the strongest person I know . So seriously , HOW MUCH FUCKING STRONGER DO I NEED TO BE? After MANY bad relationships I have finally found happiness with a remarkable man and it’s killing me that I have to rely on him so much so soon, we haven’t even been married a year yet I feel like he’s not getting my best and he deserves that and so much more .
So here I sit , in my medical lift chair at 4 in the morning, listening to the rain fall against the window, crying my eyes out , doing something I don’t do , whining about how unfair my life is and hating myself for it .Well I guess I should take comfort in the fact that in a few months I’ll be able to wear white pants again . I usually post a picture or two and this one encapsulates perfectly how I feel about my life right now .
There’s a reason we humans are called the human race . We’re always in a rush . it starts in childhood with the rush to grow up.Weather it’s wearing makeup and high heels or shaving and getting to drive , nothing happens fast enough . I’ll never understand the urge to rush through this short life, it’s the only one we get after all . Should we really be lamenting our childhood that flew by too quickly while we’re still children ?
But it doesn’t stop when we’re grown , or even when we enter our golden years . For example , my 74 year old mother is always saying it’s summer when it’s barely spring or it’s winter in early October , and while I always call her on it , she still living in the future . I have yet to try, “there are faster ways to get to the grave, but that’s coming soon. It’s not just individual people either . Yesterday was November 1st and I heard the first Christmas carol of the year !
It’s not winter!
It should be noted that I HATE Christmas carols more than any other music and to be subjected to them for over two months a year every time I leave the house is tantamount to torture for me . But , thanks to the brilliantly funny mind of Eric Idle, I now have a song for Christmas that I LOVE . Here it is for all of you , who , like me , despise the holiday hype .
Last night, my wonderful husband took me to see the incomparable John Cleese and Eric Idle, live in concert. When I was a teenager, I was the only girl I knew of that liked Monty Python. They were controversial to say the least. Their rebellious comedy had me hooked, and the accents, those wonderfully educated british accents, saying the silliest things I’d heard. Then,three years. ago, I met a British man with the same humour, and I snapped him up.
These two funny men had me laughing harder than I have since before my stroke. They put on a thoroughly entertaining retrospective of their life’s work with terrific antidotes along the way. The songs were a lot of fun, especially the last one which is my new favorite Christmas carol. ( who do I have to vivisect for a copy? ) Their irreverence towards life and especially death was just what I needed to hear. Along with an audience laughing, gasping and groaning appropriately.
The third funny British man, of course is my husband, pictured below cleaning my glasses, with his sexy smile. A man who understands the importance of python in my life.