How Are You Holding Up?


I’m not into guns, but I do feel the spirit of French female resistance fighters in this time.

In the “echo chamber” of my blogosphere/social media-sphere it comes as no surprise that the 2016 Election changed my life,  sense of my place in the world, and  immune system in many ways.  (I was about to say “profound” ways but I just can’t use that word anymore in the era of T** p).

We’ve made it through the roller coaster of the past two weeks.   BUT HOW?  For the purpose of my own blog-cessing, here is a recap of my post-election emotional roller coaster experience.


Election Night: I go to bed devastated.

Post Election

Day 1: I wake up feeling like I spent the night drinking grain alcohol.   I prepare for an audition for a bilingual commercial and am grateful that I have something else to think about.   I recite my line, “Cual es la pelicula del esqueleto que se aburre?” and, thanks to the election, I forget to ask myself, “This is my life?”

Later, a guy at Starbucks asks me if I like Trump and then follows up with, “Women like men in power.” Is this the type of daily harassment I need to prepare for?  Note to self: Avoid sitting at community tables.

Day 2:  Jessica and I process our feelings on Jessica & Solange Take Down The Patriarchy.  We agree that we need to podcast before the Nasty Woman Act of 2017 goes into effect and we need our husbands or fathers to sign release forms before we can speak in public.

Day 3: I accept that I know Trump supporters.  How could I not know the values of people around me?  Decide to deal with Trump supporters in the only logical and appropriate manner: avoid them until 2020.

Day 4: Realize that my 2016 Vision Board contains images of Prince, Hillary Clinton and David Bowie.  I didn’t realize that I know Black Magic.

Day 5: I perform in two comedy shows.  I see friends.  I remember laughter.

Day 6: I go to yoga.  Yoga teacher talks about “weird energy” and teaches an “easy” class. My back cracks twice.  Maybe everything will be OK?

Day 7: Bannon appointment announced. No, everything will not be OK.

Day 8:  I have a conversation with a friend who watched Leslie Stahl’s interview with Trump’s 60 Minutes episode.  (I could not bring myself to watch it).  She convinces me that his racist hate-filled speech could be “campaign” rhetoric.  Again, I slip into a state of coffee-induced denial.  Maybe he won’t be that bad?

Day 9:  Jeff Sessions announced as top candidate for Attorney General.  Denial over. I consider going “off the grid” and avoid reading the paper.  I still learn that Mike Flynn announced as National Security Advisor.   I breathe news in the air.

Day 10:  I accept my deep depression.   Maybe this is a permanent state.  Friend invites me to see “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” with her tickets from work.  Oh, my God! Art! Expression! Music! Joy! There is a life after this election.  I vow to dedicate myself to the arts.  Realize I can’t sing like Lena Hall. No one can.

Day 11: I’m worried about Hillary.  Where did she go?  It’s not like she can go to a support group for former female presidential candidates.  We can’t afford to have her to go into Al Gore depression. We need you Hillary!  I go into a PMS/election depression compounded with too much sugar.   I go dance salsa.  That kind of helps.

Day 12: I am sick again.  I might have the flu.  I realize I can’t absorb events in my body or I will die.  I watch some Saturday Night Live skit.  The only good thing to come of this election is the realization that Alec Baldwin has talent.

Day 13:  Wake up at 6:00 am and read news articles.  Accept the possibility of war, recession, unrest, poverty, violence…basic apocalypse.  Make coffee.  Decide to be grateful for all I have today.  Blog.

I accept that this blog will have no relevance tomorrow or the week after.




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