Election Night

A very brief update, because I am exhausted. I wrote this last night as the returns were winding down.

This was a rough night, but I’m starting to be able to feel my face again.

Also, my little baby is such a sweet girl. I was trying to be cool, but I think she figured me out. She kept petting my face. (I’m giving myself until tomorrow afternoon before I start worrying that having an anxious mother is ruining her.)

In short: I’m sad, but not surprised, about Beto and the Senate, hugely relieved about the House, and ready for sleep. Hold your loved ones close.


Pre-Electoral Tension Syndrome

My period-tracking app tells me that Aunt Flo is coming in two days, and that I might be experiencing PMS.

If I’m feeling anxious or tense, it says, I should try boosting my mood with “exercise, my favorite foods, or shopping!”

So, obviously, I threw it into the ocean and am now sitting here grimly sharpening my knives.

I don’t really want to talk about 2016, because I’ve been thinking about it for two years, but here on the morning of the midterm election, I am plenty anxious and tense. There is no champagne waiting in the fridge, no matter what happens. There will be no watch parties, just in case.

Instead, I sit here with my snoozing babe in my arms, teeth clenched as I watch the sun come up through the front windows. Think of a slightly plumper Furiosa, and you’ll have the right idea.

I cannot wait to go vote. I did everything in my power to help save this godforsaken country, some 40 percent of which is okay with a white supremacist misogynist tearing babies from their mothers’ arms. I hope we’ll save ourselves despite them.

But no matter what, I won’t rest. I used to be someone who didn’t really care that much about politics. I voted in most elections, the same way I recycled — because it’s the right thing to do. But I didn’t pay much attention beyond that.

These past two years, I’ve paid attention. I’ve read the papers and watched the news and called my reps and marched and donated and sent postcards to get out the vote. And I’m not going to stop, even if we win it all. I’m not going to stop if we lose.

I’m awake now, motherfucker. I’m awake and I cannot wait to go vote.

Having a Little Trouble Sleeping for Some Reason Ha Ha Sob

I’m thumb-typing this post as Baboo snoozes on me, post-breakfast. She slept through till 6:15. I did not.

I woke up this morning at 4 am, jumpy as hell. I felt over-caffeinated, even though I wasn’t. I’m running on anxiety, at this point.

I’ve been doing an OK job of not thinking about the midterms, but my unconscious mind is clearly still whirring away. At this point, if you’re still interested in reading what I write, you know what’s at stake.

And of course, having a baby makes it harder not to worry. I want everything for her, and instead it seems like she’ll have less than I did — a dying planet, a people consumed with rage and hatred, a government hell-bent on controlling her body and starving her mind.

But she has me, and her dad, and our family and friends. She’s surrounded by love and affection and attention. And even with the practical demands that places on us, Adam and I are finding time to try to fix things. We sent a bunch of postcards for local Democrats. We’re reminding people to vote.

Which brings me to my next point: Tuesday, November 6. It’s election day — the most important election of our lifetime. If you haven’t already, now’s a good time to make a plan to vote.

Baboo needs you.

I Give Up: I’m Just Blocking Trump Supporters Now

If you’re voting for Donald Trump, and you turn up on my social media to tell me about it, I will straight block your ass, and I won’t even feel sorry.

Furthermore, I will do so while reflecting (briefly) on the fact that you’re a racist, xenophobic monster who thinks reality TV is real but global warming is fake — or that you’ll willing to elect someone who is all these things, so that you don’t have to vote for a lady or Democrat or whatever.

Because don’t fool yourself: Trump is a proudly racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, ableist garbage fire of a person, the kind of guy who thinks that being a rich, white male is normal and everything else is a variation, and not a positive one. Furthermore, he is the worst kind of stupid person: the kind who thinks he’s smart, while ignoring actual scientists on subjects like vaccines and the environment. He also assumes you’re a dumdum (dumber even than him!) and that, like him, you want to think that most difficult problems are lies, so why bother solving them, and he’s hoping to turn your stupidity into profit.

He wants to make America great again … for people like Donald J. Trump. He couldn’t give two shits in a hat (manufactured in China) what happens to you.

And here’s the thing: we don’t need to dig to find all this out. He tells us.

Here’s a lovely little selection of things Donald Trump has tweeted:






As Maya Angelou once said, “When people show you who they are, believe them the first time.”


Prior to this election cycle, I was a big believer in living and letting live, when it comes to political opinions, especially on social media, including on my own feeds. My feeling was, conversation is more important than any one specific point of view, and that the most dangerous thing we can do is to live in our own little echo chambers — which most of us do, both voluntarily and involuntarily.

Most people surround themselves with likeminded people and only make time to consume media that reinforces their perspective. If you’re on Facebook, Twitter, etc., it’s worse: not only do you choose your connections, but the site’s algorithms often show you only what you want to see (or at least, what you’ll respond to).

I still believe that the exchange of ideas is important, but for my mental health, I’m not going to put up with Trump supporters commenting on the parts of my online presence that I curate. If you want to support him on your own sites and feeds, go ahead. Show up on my virtual lawn, and I’ll turn the electronic hose on you.

GIF via Giphy



Viva Capitalism

This weekend, my friend Metal Eric suggested that if it were the 1950s, I would most likely be a communist.

“Oh no, I would not,” I said. “I would not be a communist in any kind of a way.”

“You wouldn’t? That surprises me.”

“No. Nope. Not at all. I mean, don’t get me wrong: I want people to have health insurance, and social security. I believe that society has some responsibility for protecting people who can’t protect themselves, and so on.”

“So you’d be more of a socialist, maybe.”

“Eh, not really. And here’s why: When it comes right down to it, I don’t want everyone to have the same things. I want things to be level, at a certain point – no poverty, education for everyone, etc. But I also want, by dint of hard work and good luck, to have a little bit more than they do.”


“I want to drive by their hovels in a limo with my ass hanging out the window, basically.”

The Puppy Tax

Lazy blogging, I know, but I’ve never gotten 18 comments on a Facebook status, and I am nerdily proud of it:

Status: Jen’s new favorite thing is to say, “I cannot wait til Obama fixes _____.” It works for everything!

Jen Hubley at 4:32pm November 6
For example, “I cannot wait until Obama makes there be more Diet Coke in the machine.” Or: “I cannot wait until Obama makes beer that works as a diet aid.” Etc.

Shannon at 4:32pm November 6

Jen Hubley at 4:34pm November 6
Think of it as some gentle self-satire. 😉

Shannon at 4:34pm November 6
You are too funny (;

Julia at 4:37pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama makes rainbows happen ev-er-y day!

Jen Hubley at 4:38pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama buys a puppy, not just for his own kids, but for EVERY. SINGLE. ONE OF US.

Julia at 4:40pm November 6
That’s totally socialism, lady. Redistribution of puppies is not cool.

Jen Hubley at 4:41pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama takes puppies from people who have TOO MANY puppies, and gives them to those of us who have TOO FEW.

Julia at 4:43pm November 6
I earned my puppies. My right to own all my puppies is in the constitution. You’ll have to pry my puppies out of my cold, dead hands.

Jen Hubley at 4:45pm November 6
FINE. Then we will tax your puppies. Prepare to pay the Puppy Tax!