Day 245

 Day 245, self quarantine:

Saturday, November 14, 2020

Welp, I talked with Eric yesterday and it’s official - we’re not getting together for Thanksgiving.

Gary and I aren’t distraught, we’re relieved.  The virus is a nightmare.

Our family is everything to us.  We can sacrifice one year of holidays as a trade off for many more in the future.

Read this.  “A dinner party killed my dad.”

https://medium.com/@tonywright_80709/a-dinner-party-killed-my-dad-218101b758b4

I read that after I spoke with Eric.  Had our decision been to go ahead with Thanksgiving, this article would have changed my mind.

You know what I keep thinking?

Elections matter.

How many people realized on November 8, 2016 that Donald’s election meant the deaths of their loved ones?

I mean, we joked we were nervous he had the nuclear codes but who expected his gross, deliberate incompetence in a pandemic?

Had Donald been fit and competent and had told the truth, issued a mask mandate and ordered a national lockdown, 240,000 Americans would not be dead and millions on the brink of financial ruin.

I don’t really understand why this isn’t talked about nonstop and why he isn’t being charged with a crime.

This business of not being able to indict a sitting president is bullshit.

BULLSHIT.

I’m really pissed off.  I want him gone.  

Today.

I can’t fucking believe he’s having a “Stop the Steal” rally in Washington today.

Never mind, I’m too furious to discuss this anymore.

The whole thing, including his pathetic failure to concede, is fucking ridiculous.

In other news, today is hopefully Slick home decor day. Gary is putting my new bench and Christmas tree together and I plan on spending the day moving stuff around and doing the tree, which ended up being way bigger than I thought.

Once I talked Gary into it, there was no slender, tasteful tree for me.

He had to get the biggest and best.  This thing is 7.5 feet tall and 4.5 feet wide at it’s base.

Why why why.

I’m not really complaining.  I have a fifty year collection of ornaments.

But it’s not going to be the easiest thing to keep up until whenever unless I find a perfect spot.

Oy, there is no perfect spot.  This house is tiny.

I hope this works. 

So yeah, today is a home improvement extravaganza, lots of music including holiday tunes, and french fries and mushroom “steak” sandwiches for dinner.

I can do this.

One day at a time.

Happy Saturday.

Day 244

Day 244, self quarantine:

Friday, November 13, 2020

Woo, I am back to being really, really terrified of Covid-19.

Honestly, it’s spiraling out of control while our President continues to bizarrely and untruthfully insist he won the election and has completely abdicated his duty.

Newly woke Gary doesn’t understand how his behavior isn’t tantamount to attempting to throw over the government and he doesn’t understand why he hasn’t been arrested.

I have to admit, I agree with him.

Today marks month eight of quarantine for Gary and me.  That’s 2/3 of a year.

Unbelievable.

2/3 of a year since I’ve seen my boss in person or eaten inside a restaurant or gone to see live music.

Ten months since we’ve seen Julie, Katie and Natalie.

Eric and Natalie bought a house and have already been living there six months.

Julie and Katie are moving to a new house this week.

Gary and I have basically not left ours since March.

And life goes on.

It can’t be January 20, 2021 soon enough.

I’m so tired of fighting down daily waves of terror, anger and depression.

All caused by a morbidly obese ignoramus in clown makeup and a yak wig.

Un-fucking real.

On behalf of an exhausted nation and me, someone please make it stop.  

Please.

So I got an awesome Facebook memory today.  Pics and fun video of Julie, Eric, Adrian and Andre on tour in Istanbul, Turkey:

http://inherownwrite.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-quite-blog-post-but-still-very-cool.html

I don’t think anyone will ever take live music for granted again, huh.

In other news, I got Gary to agree to an artificial Christmas tree.  We’re picking it up after I’m done working today.

It was so easy to get him to say yes, I’m wishing I piggybacked some more requests onto that one, like French doors and a new kitchen floor.

He agrees with my reasons for wanting an artificial tree, and even thinks it’s a good idea, especially leaving it up until the kids can safely visit, but you should have seen his face when I said the words out loud that we’re probably spending the holidays alone.

I mean, he knew.  Woke Gary now watches MSNBC all the time. (Too funny.  He kept talking about what “Williams” said and I had no idea who Williams was.  I didn’t ask because I was too afraid he told me a story about “Williams” while I was looking at my phone and not paying attention.  It turns out “Williams” is Brian Williams at MSNBC and Gary watches him after I go to bed following Trevor Noah’s monologue.)

“What if the tree is still up in June?” he asked.

“I’m cool with that!” I said brightly, ignoring the nauseous pit in my stomach.

I really am fine with a decorated tree in my living room year round. It’s the only thing this place is missing.

Welp, that and a greenhouse growing hydroponics. 😎

So that’s it for today. We’re gonna have takeout Chinese tonight.  Omg, Fairmount people, why am I the last person in the ‘hood to know about i-Tea?  

http://us.chinesemenu.com/wx/521397660.htm

Mmm...can’t wait. Their food is incredible.

Though last night Gary made ravioli in a white wine butter sauce with artichokes and fresh tomatoes and I think I swooned all during dinner.

Yep, I’m a lucky girl.

Okay, I’m going upstairs to bang out work early so I can call it a day early though actually it’s the sabbath and my office closes early on Fridays in the winter, anyway.

Happy Friday!

 

Day 243

 

Day 243, self quarantine:

Thursday, November 12, 2020

You know I’m dying to write about what’s going on.

It’s disgraceful and dangerous and I can’t believe it’s happening.

I really don’t want to give it any more power.

The virus is way more concerning.

We have serious problems.

I’m back to wanting 100% quarantine, with no trips to any stores. I’ve basically stuck to that with few exceptions but Gary goes for groceries 1-2 x a week.

I’m terrified.

Cases in Philadelphia have literally doubled. Hospitals are overflowing.

I’m reading stories of healthy, younger people who wore masks and washed their hands and got COVID-19 anyway.

And died.

And our *snort* super spreader President hasn’t attended a virus task force meeting in months.

In fact, he’s totally stopped working.

Unless you count his hourly airing of grievances via Twitter.

It’s like they announced Biden won on Saturday, we had 24 hours of beautiful celebrations across the nation, we all went to bed stress free for the first time in four years, only to slip back into the darkest, deepest hole of our country’s lifetime a day later.

I don’t know what’s going to happen but I do wonder where the adults in the room are.

We let someone who’s akin to a serial killer run wild.

And now we’re letting him stay in our house, which he is clearly getting ready to burn down.

If you’re not bothered by this, bless your heart.

Happy Thursday.

Day 242

 

Day 242, self quarantine:

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

“Hey, Rob, you have a package,” Gary yelled from downstairs.

Music to the ears of any quarantine dweller.

I flew down the steps.

I didn’t order anything, at least not that I remembered.

I looked at the thick brown package.

“It’s from Julie!” I shouted.

I tore that taped up sucker open with bare strength!

Omg, what a package.

It contained my favorite things in life: chocolate, music and art!

It was such a terrific surprise, for no reason, though Katie included a really lovely note about missing us and wishing they could visit...

Damn pandemic.

The virus news is kind of terrible right now.

I talked to Eric yesterday.  We’re still planning Thanksgiving, but I don’t really know if it should happen and we’re taking it a day at a time.

After reading some very alarming statistics this morning, I am just thankful my family is healthy. That’s enough Thanksgiving for me.

So anyway, naturally after getting that fabulous surprise package from Julie, we had to FaceTime.

I wish you guys could see Jake’s routine during these calls.  He absolutely knows it’s Julie, he runs to the front door crying, then he races back and participates in the call.

Julie was able to capture a picture and it is pretty much everything to me this morning.

What’s really crazy is look what’s in the background of this pic - Julie’s record!  When Gary put the records away last week, we held the kids’ records out - Gary wanted to make them their own section.

So that’s kind of cool, huh.

In other news, I’m still not going to acknowledge what the fuck is going on in the White House because I don’t want to give that insanity any of my time or any more power.

But you know I’m about to explode.

We’ll see how long I can continue to keep it in.

Probably not much longer.

DONALD? YO, DONALD!  YOU LOST, BRO.  YOU. LOST.

Deal with it.

Happy Wednesday.

Day 241

 

Day 241, self quarantine:

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

You know, there’s a lot I could say this morning about outrageous, criminal behavior but I’m not gonna do it.

Joe Biden is president-elect.

Deal with it, Donald.

I’m moving on.

So we did not return Santa Gary yesterday because I was really busy work-wise til late and Gary was in the mood for roasted vegetable fried rice, which is pretty labor intensive, so we’re gonna do it tomorrow.

No clue why we’re not doing it today but my significant other asked, “Can’t we do it Wednesday?”

Oh.  Maybe he thought yesterday was Tuesday.  What does retired man know about work weekdays?

I haven’t told Gary we’re getting an artificial Christmas tree yet, he was cranky at one point because neither one of us could figure out how to work something electronic in the house.

That’s another hard part of being old with your kids living in far away states - you lose your tech help. 😬

Gary and I are so funny, speaking of being left to our own devices, we’ve both been keeping a running list of everything the two of us have pulled off recently all by ourselves at our age, and we feel the need to rehash it daily.

“Remember the time the two of us lugged a ten ton wall air conditioner up three steps, through the house, and somehow lifted it above our heads to install it?” I reminded Gary, as if he’d ever forget.

(That was also the time we thought our air conditioner played music.  Indie music. Don’t even ask.)

“Wait, that was nothing!  How about when we rented a U-Haul last summer and brought home a new refrigerator!” Gary said.

I don’t think I wrote about that here.  Too fucking mortifying.  I felt like Granny Clampett in that truck and I still don’t fucking believe I lifted a refrigerator.

Also, Gary cut himself on something used to ship the refrigerator, there was blood everywhere, we both had blood all over us and we both almost fainted. 

It was like 100 degrees that day.

I worried for a week U-Haul was going to see blood and send the police to our house on a missing person search.

Ah, the adventures of Robin and Gary.

But I digress.

Back to our list of old people unlikely accomplishments.

“Just lugging all those records off the shelves last week and putting them back was pretty intense,” Gary said.

Tell me about it.  

(But they sure look good and what a thrill to be able to easily find every record.)

“No, the best was the rug last month,” I said, remembering the two of us lifting heavy furniture and trying to hoist a 9x12 rug by ourselves and me landing flat on my back, thinking I died.

“The rug!  What about the backyard?” Gary said indignantly.

He’s right.  Who could ever forget hours and hours of digging and the forty 20 gallon bags-of-trash nights.

But hey hey, we did it, just the two of us decrepit lonely codgers. 😎

Anyway, onward.  

The kitchen is next.

Then we’re gonna really go nuts and paint the house.

Also by ourselves.

Yay.

I guess I should be grateful we can still do stuff like this, huh.

We are.

And we laugh like hell and manage to have fun regardless.

I guess it could be worse.

Hey, it could always be worse, right?

Right.

I mean, the psycho in the yak wig could have been re-elected.

Like he’s currently fantasizing.

Oy.

Someone should tell him, huh.

Okay.

Don’t mind if I do.

YOU LOST, DONALD.

GO DIRECTLY TO JAIL, DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200.

Ahhhh.  I feel better now.

Don’t you?

Happy Tuesday.

Day 240

 

Day 240, self quarantine:

Monday, November 9, 2020

Oh man, doesn’t life feel glorious this morning?

My whole weekend was amazing.

Yesterday we went for a drive to get bagels and it was a peak autumn day in Philadelphia.  The skies were sunny and the trees a changing, fiery thing of beauty.

We opened up the screen door and watched the birds all afternoon.

The autumn air was amazing.  Our own yard was lit, our apple tree shades of honey and crimson as well.

Speaking of trees...

I have to break the news to Gary today we’re getting an artificial Christmas tree this year.

We’ve never had one, Gary hates them.  I am not a fan, either, I love a fresh cut tree.

I have a good reason for wanting an artificial one, though. Trees are a lot of work.  I have no one to help me decorate and let’s get real, there’s a pretty good chance Gary and I are spending Christmas alone this year.

So if I’m going to go to all this trouble, I want to put it up now.  And I would kind of like to leave it up until the kids can actually come for a visit.

So, an artificial tree.

Psychologically, having a tree up now will be wonderful.

Not putting one up at all this year isn’t an option though I admit that recently, in one of my darker moods, I considered it.

And I think environmentally, it’s probably better not to have a cut live tree anymore.

It will be nice to not be cleaning up needles months later, too.

Anyway, Gary is going to hate my plan and will say no at first, but I will win this one.

First world problems, I know.

The reason I say today is because after work, we have to go to the garden center and return the six foot dancing Santa I bought that looks like Gary so we may as well exchange it for a tree.

Oh my God, the Gary Santa is so creepy.

It actually looks like Gary if Gary died and I sent him to a taxidermist.

Gary took him out of the box Saturday and stood him up in the corner and Jake took one look at it, barked, ran away and hid under the table.

I hated it as soon as I saw it and I was even happily buzzed and drinking celebratory wine!

“Oh my God, Gary!”

“What?”

“Santa Gary is creeping me out!  Does he have an Alexa in him? It’s like he’s thinking terrible things about me. Look at his expression!”

“What?  You’re nuts,”Gary laughed.

Hell if I was.  Santa Gary was scary as fuck.

“Ew, he looks like he wants to murder me. His eyes are dead, they’re not twinkling Gary eyes.”

“His eyes are dead? It’s a toy, Rob.”

I looked at it warily.

“I don’t like the way it’s staring at me,” I said again, shivering. I grabbed the blanket I kept folded at the end of the sofa and wrapped it around myself.

“You just said it has dead eyes!” But I saw Gary recoil after looking at it, too.

“Omg, it’s moving!” I screamed!

“What?!” Gary jumped up, startled.

“I think it’s alive and coming toward me!” I shrieked in horror.

“It dances,” Gary gasped.  “You know that!”  He thought the whole thing was hilarious and collapsed on the sofa laughing.

“Omg, Gary please, where’s the box, we have to put him in it, omg omg omg I want to return him, he can’t stay here!”

Gary laughed so hard he doubled over.  I threw my blanket over Santa Gary’s head so I wouldn’t have to look at it.

So yeah, Santa Gary is getting returned today.

And an artificial tree will be purchased and decorated.

I’m stoked.

Ahhh, it’s so nice to be lighthearted and talk about this today instead of the election.

Or work.  I have more discovery this week but I’ve already determined that can be done by worker monkeys so I’m cool.

Ah work, ah Mondays.

Now I just gotta figure out an official retirement date 😎

Ain’t life grand.

Happy Monday indeed.

Day 239

 

Day 239, self quarantine:

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Hallelujah.  It’s over.

Where can I get white pantsuit pajamas?

What a week.

Friday night I fell asleep sitting on the sofa again.

I woke up early Saturday, unable to move my neck.  With great pain and hope, I put on MSNBC and could not believe my eyes that Joe was still stuck at 253.

Gary came down at 9:00 a.m.  We made a fresh pot of coffee and took our respective spots in front of the television.

“Philadelphia hasn’t reported for a while,” I told Gary.

“Nevada won’t get him there,” Gary said.

“Yes, I know.  Morning Joe has told us 87 times already but we knew that.”

“If I have to hear a definition of provisional ballots one more fucking time...” Gary sneered.

It felt like we were watching paint dry.

And then, shortly after 11:00 a.m., MSNBC announced Philadelphia added votes.

“Omg, Gary, he’s winning by 40,000 votes in PA now!  They have to call it!”

No sooner did those words leave my lips than the BREAKING NEWS chyron appeared across the tv screen.

I grabbed Gary’s arm.

“We have an announcement to make,” said Morning Joe.  “Joe Biden is the president elect of the United States!”

Gary and I broke out into tears.

I knew I would be emotional but this was really something.

As soon as I composed myself, I sent out three texts, one to Eric, one to Julie, and one to my friend and coworker, Angelica, who has talked me off the ledge this entire election. 

“JOE HAS BEEN DECLARED PRESIDENT ELECT!”

And then naturally I posted it on Facebook.

I still can’t believe that it was my city, Philadelphia, for the win.

Gary and I heard a roar outside... the celebration poured out into the street and in streets all over the world.

It was like the way I read parades described following the end of World War II.

“I knew we’d be happy but I didn’t realize we’d be spontaneous dance parties in the street happy. What a moment!” Sarah Cooper

“I live near Washington Square in New York. Crowd noise has not stopped since 11:45

or so this morning. It's not organized. There's no podium, no "event." Just people being themselves in public. Celebrating, yes, but also experiencing — by means of reversal — everything they lost.”

Fox News reporter in DC: "Not a lot of violence or any kind of real commotion here, primarily, perhaps, because of just how much marijuana is being smoked. The smell of that is quite pungent in the air right now."

And while all of this peace love and understanding was happening internationally yesterday, over at the Temple of Doom:

“President Trump’s advisers said he refused to acknowledge yet that the race was over, and aides said he had no plans to deliver the kind of concession speech that has become traditional. His campaign also vowed to continue waging its legal battles.“

The funniest story of the day, though, was Rudy’s press conference at the Four Seasons.  

Not the hotel, Four Seasons Landscaping, which is nestled between a porn shop and a crematorium. 

Omg, if you didn’t hear about this:

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2020/11/four-seasons-total-landscaping-trump-team-news-conference.html

Anyway, back to yesterday.

So Gary and I watched MSNBC for the rest of the day with the sound off and blasted music and partied all day.

We were sad we couldn’t join any celebrations in the street, but, you know, coronavirus.

Anyway, I scrolled Twitter throughout the afternoon, sharing in celebrations all over the world, when I came upon this tweet.

“You don’t have to RT him, reply to him, argue with him, or point out the lies and errors. He is irrelevant. The work to unite and move forward continues and that doesn’t include him.” Chasten Buttigieg.

I actually sat back, took a deep breath, and read it a few times.

And I felt like a giant weight was lifted off me.

So I cut and pasted his tweet and emailed it to myself.

And now I’m posting it here.

Donald is irrelevant.

Let’s unite and move forward.

Happy Sunday!