Joe Biden selected Kamala Harris as VP. She wasn’t my first choice, but I think they are a good balance. A friend once described her as an ass-kicker. She is. They won’t be calling her “Sleepy Kamala.” And she must scare the SHIT out of the orange one. Biden and Harris have my support. People, please put aside your specific preferences and vote for Biden. Puh-leese. Neither Biden nor Harris would have ruined thousands of children’s lives by separating them from their parents and losing them to be trafficked to a Jeffrey Epstein-type island.
I’m sorry if many of you feel like you have to choose the lesser evil, but please do. PLEASE. I don’t think I can bear any more torment by a malignant narcissist. I’ve painfully learned how dangerous they can be even when not in charge of a country. It’s no joke. They have no bottom in terms of how low they are willing to go. They are willing to F up their own children. I’ve seen it up close and personal. My heart is torn over personal narcissistic damage, not just to me but to my dearest loved ones.
Narcissists proudly leave a path of destruction. I’ve learned that the terribly hard way.
Regarding the pandemic, I’m not in the position of having a school-aged child at this time. I consider myself lucky not to have to handle parenthood in a pandemic. I’m sure it would be a very challenging time for all. But I doubt I would risk his life by sending him to school next month. My son was always more important to me than money. I wish Trump felt the same.
I’m gratefully attending a poetry workshop on line. It’s one I’d been attending in person for some years on and off when I was able to. They took it to Zoom during this pandemic. My computer has no webcam or mic, but the workshop leader, David Elsasser (Happy birthday, David), makes it work for me anyway. I am truly grateful. I send him my poem and he screen-shares it. After all the feedback, we speak on the phone and he puts me on speaker. He makes it all work out. It is truly one of the highlights of my week.
I’d been working on a poem addressing the women who act like I’m after their husbands. It was nuts at one of my previous jobs regarding that. And even up the block where a woman whose man is a drug dealer seemed to think that. I was like are you fucking kidding me? I wanted none of them. So it was long due for a poem.
I was concerned if the poetry workshop folks would get what I’m saying, but they didn’t let me down. ❤💗❤
I look forward to
returning to comedy again. I hope I’m
still funny.
I just learned a film I acted in several years back is now released and going world-wide!!! I hope I get discovered by someone in a position to change my financial situation. I played a substitute teacher. The director was a lovely man to work with -- Abdu Dandridge. The film, PRESSURE, is available for rent or purchase.
Big love to CGG-M every
day. 💕💕💕💕
I'm in the green with the shortest hair in the photo. It was easy. I could comb my hair with my hand. But during my separation, the guy who cut my hair well had to leave for a job with a pension. He left what he loved, as so many have, out of fear for his older years. I began to let my hair grow. And grow. It is more work, but it is my chance to enjoy having long hair. As a youngster, I didn't like my hair. Times were different and less types of looks were considered attractive, and I was as brainwashed as any other Barbie-owning American child. I must insert here that before having any Barbies and Kens, my dear mother, a unique individual, sent away for a Barbie-like doll with a different name, and her hair was coarse. I remember having such mixed feelings about the doll's hair. Yet I knew deep down that my mother got me a doll whose hair was more like mine and hers. I had trouble liking it in the age of Dippity-Do, Sun-In, ironing hair, using juice cans to set it straight, and doing whatever to get it long, straight, and, if possible, blonde. Such wasted energy on not liking what one has. Now I enjoy my hair and the freedom to do whatever I want with it. Every now and then, I entertain the thought of cutting it again, but when I see the photo of the three of us, I'm glad I can still pull off this long-hair look.