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09 November 2016 @ 10:32 pm
In which I actually *gasp* still have f*cks to give  
Honestly, I had not been following the mud-slinging stramash that led up to yesterday.  It was way too frikking ugly on both sides -- didn't think Hillary was all that clean, didn't want to think at all of Donald Trump, didn't want to know more about the people surrounding them that just. Ugh.  And I thought, anyway, I can't vote, what the hell does it matter.  About 11pm yesterday, my mind was just chanting, "Not Trump, not Trump, not Trump plsplsplsplspls", but I had this sinking feeling in my stomach, and not wanting to give into it, in true Patricia fashion, I went to sleep.  Woke up trying to remember what it was about today that I was trying not to deal with and sure enough, flipping through my phone, there it was.  PRESIDENT ELECT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA DONALD TRUMP.

If, in the last few entries, I've been griping about not caring about anything, well, it came back in full force today.  I fucking care.  And sitting in bed, there was just this rising wave of panic and dread and disappointment and just -- my mind was - still is-  on fire.  Like it hasn't been in a while.  Everything today makes me think -- What do I do? What should I do? What needs to be done?

This is my opinion piece on this clusterfck.  I am not nearly well enough informed to say what I know about Benghazi or those damn emails, since as I said, I generally avoided all this before, but just like the kids around me (my nephew, my coworkers' kids), I know basic human decency.  There is none to be expected from that man.  I hope to be proven wrong on this count, but there it is.  I mean, I don't think Hillary would know necessarily about the struggles of immigrants coming to America to live, but there's something to be said about Trump's unapologetic hostility that brooks no arguments about what he plans to do with people he deems unworthy of his great white America.  And whether he means that as extremist as it sounds or not, this culture that he's perpetuating is troubling. People will use it for their own ignorant purposes.  How people can come up to people and ask, "so are you going back to your country now?" is just... I have no words.  Someone comes up to me with that BS, they would get the ff response: Number one, TF is that any of your business. Number two, I pay and work to be in this country, so if you think that you have more right to this piece of grass by virtue of the fact that you came to be here by accident of birth, you are greatly mistaken.

But then again, there's the rub.  In the morning, my coworker (white, male, middle age) marches into morning meeting, gloating about Trump winning.  I myself had avoided any mention of it, as I'd rather not discuss it.  But he goes on and on and he manterrupted the dietitian (white, female), who actually voted Trump but was just considering certain things about Hillary, and he's saying stuff like "that's the kind of person she is", referring to Hillary conceding but not having made a speech yet.  And what the hell about what kind of person Donald fucking Trump is???  So sorry Hillary couldn't Emily Post her way through her grief at being beaten by an orange orangutan.  But I couldn't speak because I felt I didn't have all the facts.  But it upset me that I didn't. It made me feel like I'd folded myself up into a corner again, and I wasn't doing that anymore, not at work.  Thankfully another coworker (Filipino, female) flounces in and when he tried to be all smug up in her face, she erupts and says "it's not fucking funny, don't talk to me about it".  Boofrikkingyeah.

I mean, I think we'll all move on (unless Trump goes amok and pushes some World Destruct button, which, let's face it, is not too farfetched), and function as we always must.  We immigrants, especially, are terrific at this.  Badly wanted to just wallow, but no, off we go to be part of that damn workforce upon which the real frikking America is built on.

I wonder if we're all taking it too symbolically, and we'll all just shut up with the smack talk once we're busy getting down to business (I really really hope).  4 years. Damn.