Dumping Trump

Here’s my new year’s resolution: I’m not talking about Donald Trump anymore.

I’m normally not one for resolutions. The fresh crispness of a new year doesn’t make me want to run out and try to take up jogging or make plans to reconnect with people I haven’t spoken to in awhile. I normally take a week or so to get used to writing the new year in emails and the like. And other than hoping for a good year ahead and doubling down on optimism, I usually don’t make a deal of it. I like the other markers for passing time: birthdays, weddings, Fourth of July parties. These mean more to me than when a clock flips to zero and starts again.

Please understand then how serious this is when I say I am adopting one. And that this new year’s resolution is dumping Donald Trump.

I know I’ve talked about Trump before. I’ve posted about him here. I plan to take that article I wrote and submit it for competitions. I even bought my office Coffee by Trump for Christmas as a joke. Infact, this post was going to be a fake review for Coffee by Trump by Donald Trump. But it’s not.

It’s not because I’m part of the problem. And I see that now.

Every time we mention his name, we reinforce his brand. We make him a household name and continue to normalize him and everything he stands for. We can’t continue to take this man seriously. Even if you find yourself agreeing with his stances or what he advocates for (which I can’t say I do) he’s become a caricature of himself. We don’t talk about his hair or his wives anymore because we don’t have to. It’s an endless regurgitation of the last thing he said, or someone’s reaction to the last thing he said, or he himself talking about the thing he talked about.

I’m done.

Yes, I know, I’m doing it now. This post is about him. But I need to plant my flag and I need there to be an explanation. So when people say, “blah blah blah Donald Trump” and my reply of “who’s this now?” is perplexing, they might understand.

I also plan to take conversations about him and turn them to other things. Topics the public finds endlessly more interesting to discuss. Specifically:

  • food (probably bacon)
  • Florida (or that thing that crazy guy in Florida did)
  • what you would do if you won that billion dollar lotto (probably not going to be you, probably a guy in Florida instead)

So that’s it, Don. It’s been real. Thanks for the memories. You’re kind of a terrible person!

No more Trump. Starting now.

2015 is MY YEAR. Unless it isn’t. It might not be. Oh god.

This is my last post for 2014 and I’ve been deliberating over what it should include. Dancing girls? Cats? A thinly veiled metaphor about the coming year and how I shouldn’t think about how it’s been thirteen years since I graduated high school and that I probably really should have done something worth being proud of at this point like produced one of the two unfinished movie scripts I’ve plotted out I mean you could at least get them finished as short stories everyone’s releasing writing stuff through amazon not that you’d have anything worth getting on amazon except that two star review of that under eye cream that did not reduce your dramatic case of raccoon eye but ENHANCED IT

This is my problem. I have these little defeatist conversations in my head that start out as, “You know, you should cut your hair short.” and end with, “You know, the guinea pigs only like you because you’re feeding them. OH GOD. WHAT IF THAT’S TRUE FOR MY HUSBAND.” It’s not a great headspace to be in.

It’s all about self esteem. I don’t really have any. I mean, I’m not depressed. And I know things I’m factually good at. Things I’ve seen the stats on. But anything outside of that? I just talk myself into circles and then I’m just sort of hiding alone in my basement, drinking wine, and wondering if there’s a way to tell if guinea pigs like their owners. (This may or may not have happened.) (It did.)

So YES. 2015. New Years is when people set resolutions, yes? I think 2015 is the year I learn to have self esteem. I think it’s a skill, just like anything else, that can be learned. It’s not like people can give it to you. I wish I could just say I was fishing for compliments or pandering or something else… but the reality is that when you have low self esteem, you don’t believe a damn word of it even if compliments DO come. All of the awards and accolades and kind words just sort of wash over you because YOU don’t believe a word of it. It’s like eating food you’re allergic to. You like food, you know you’ve enjoyed it in the past, but you don’t feel so great and, lets face it, an allergy is your body telling you it hates you and it wishes you didn’t suck so much and that’s why we can’t have nice things like pistachios, Lauren.

It’s sort of amazing when people have self esteem. I’m not talking about egotistical, self aggrandizing folks. I mean like. Management. Sales people. Amy Poehler. It’s just such a foreign concept to me to rah-rah yourself and be your own cheerleader. But for my friends? Oh man, you’re all fantastic. Everyone should know you and how amazing you are.

For some reason my brain is kind of broken. It’s all for them, not for me. Maybe I can learn how this works. I should at least give it a try. The handful of times I’ve been brave and said “yes” things have worked out okay. No one’s lost a limb yet and I still seems to have a fairly good reputation. I need to be more brave and really trust in myself and my skillset. 2015 I think I’ll give this a solid shake. The worst that happens is that I’m alone in my basement, eating pistachios, and asking my guinea pigs about my rash. Hell, I could be asking you.