It's the end of the year as we know it, and I feel perfectly adequate

Before we get into this end of the year post, I feel like I need to remind everyone of a few things to be aware of on this last day of 2020. Like Halloween, NYE is one of those holidays where people make really poor life choices. Because it's 2020 and we don't need the universe sending us anything else in the last 24 hours of the year, please consider your actions wisely:

• Don't open any sort of tomb, unearthed item, ancient text, or anything else that looks like it could raise an army of zombie squirrels.
• Don't accept ANYTHING from a stranger.
• Avoid abandoned buildings.
• Be polite to people, particular your elders. Remember, most curses happen because someone was a jerk to an old lady.
• If someone gives you a mogwai, don't feed it after midnight or expose it to bright light or water. Actually, you shouldn't accept a mogwai at all. 
• Stay home. There's zero reason to be out this NYE. 

Warnings complete; let's move on with the last Island post of 2020. Normally, I use this last post of the year to reflect on the year that was and discuss goals, achieved or failed, and set up the wonder that will be 2021. Well, 2020 is the year that can best be described as a dumpster fire, so there will be no lofty post reflecting on the year that was. I feel, on this last day of 2020, perfectly adequate and ready to move on. 

This is not to say that I don't have some expectations for 2021. The mostly fall into five categories:

1. Not thinking about the President for some portion of each day.
2. Figuring out what to have for dinner in advance of dinner time. This is surprisingly more difficult to do when staying home.
3. Continuing to work from home BUT reconnecting to my work clothes. I've missed them. 
4. Figuring out Keely's peak attention needing times, and planning accordingly. 
5. Launching a new art project. 

Nothing crazy on that list. I don't want to set myself for disappointment in 2021. I want to creep quietly into the new year, with cat-like tread, and let the year unfold. It's going to be another very long year. I'm not being pessimistic, but realistic. 

One of the brightest spots of 2020 for me has been having time to focus on creative projects. I made over 100 embroidery pieces this year, which is amazing. A lot of the pieces were original designs or collaborations with my friend, Kelly, who is an amazing painter. I launched the Be a Good Citizen Project, featuring 30 original pieces (see below if you'd like a "Scream" - I still have a few), and I learned some new stitches and techniques along the way. Having more time to work on creative projects has been amazing, and kept me sane this year. I'm looking forward to my 2021 project, An Embroidery a Day, which launches tomorrow. You can keep learn more about the project and follow along on my new blog of the same name (the first post will go live tomorrow morning so don't be shocked if you see a blank screen right now). 

I started the Island in 2011 with no real plan or purpose except to be able to write and entertain. I hope that in 2021 I can get back to more of what I love to do on this space - share funny stories, write fiction, and answer my cat's questions. The 500th Island post will be written in 2021; I have no idea what it will be about, but I assume it'll include words and sentences and stuff. Thank you for joining me in 2020 and enjoying/tolerating the posts I did get out this year. I appreciate your time and your continued support of the Island.

Oh, also enjoy one final "Keely living his best life" photo. Pets really won 2020 - I don't know if I can go back to working in the office; he'd miss me too much (in his own cat way, of course).

Happy New Year - may 2021 be less of a dumpster fire than 2020! And please, whatever you do, make smart life choices this evening. Don't tempt 2020 in its final hours. 

There's still time to get your very own SCREAM! I still have a few left if you'd like to tell me all about how you were a good citizen in 2020. Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen Project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. I'll be featuring some good citizens in a post in early 2021.

Under a Christmas tree instead of in a van down by the river

My old cat, Pumpkin, lived in an Ikea shopping bag for a week. No, this isn't a heart-warming story about how I found a tiny kitten in an Ikea bag on the means streets of Honolulu (Pumpkin was adopted when I lived in Hawaii) and brought her home to her forever home. The bag was in my apartment and she decided to live in it for a week. Pumpkin was the kind of cat who enjoyed boxes and waited patiently for a moment like an empty Ikea bag to come her way. She would leave the bag to eat, use the litter box, and take up far more space on the bed than an eight pound cat should take. But if it wasn't one of those three things, she was in the bag. I moved it around the apartment a few times. That had zero impact on her situation; she moved with her bag. For reasons known only to her, the week ended and she decided the bag was over. She resumed her "normal" life of living on top of the cable box. Cats are special and we don't deserve them. 

My current cat, Keely, also enjoys an Ikea bag and had short term love affair with living on my bed but under a garment bag from the dry cleaning service I used to use. I thought he looked like a solider in a tent writing letters home to his beloved.

He prefers his cat bed (I know!), lounging on a dining room chair, or using the draft blocker as a pillow by the sliding glass door. He does like to sit on my lap at precisely 4 pm each day, but only if we follow a set of rules he established when he decided I was okay enough for him to sit on my lap. Cats are weird. You can imagine my surprise when Keely found a new napping/sitting location this past weekend.

He lives under the Christmas tree.

Before we examine Keely's latest thing, there are a few things you need to know about me and Christmas:

• I have not put up a tree of any sort since 2013. That year, it was a book tree, so I'm not sure if that counts. 
• I did have a tabletop tree the following year, but that doesn't count. I used little earrings as decorations and sneezed whenever I was close to it. 
• I love Christmas decorations, but I hate putting them up. In fact, I once planned my visit home for Christmas to avoid decorating the tree. My family knows this, and now waits or holds back ornaments so I have to do something. 
• My preference for ornaments is the weirder the better. I once decorated my parents' tree with the theme of "Obscure Presidents" because they have a collection of White House ornaments and who doesn't want a tree where Chester A. Arthur is the focal point?

For whatever reason, I have fully embraced Christmas this year. Not only did I put up a tree...I put it up the day after Thanksgiving. This from a person who once wrote an open letter to Christmas decorations up before Halloween. I also bought eggnog and holiday themed pajamas (with dinosaurs, but still). I don't know me anymore either. 

I also decided to channel my Grandma K and make some ornaments, finally putting my abundant sequin collection to use. I also embroidered a few ornaments and was delighted to receive some handmade ornaments in the mail from my friend and her son. Target seemed to sense my need this year, featuring a line of ornaments that can only be described as "1965 Called and it Wants Christmas Back." I am here for it. 

And then Keely started living under the tree. At first, he mostly focused on rubbing his little face on everything and trying to eat the plastic branches, but then he really settled in. Sometimes, he likes to be out front like a tree guard. Other times, he lounges at the back of the tree against the wall. He naps, he watches the lights, he chills. He never bats at the ornaments. He never tries to climb the tree. I suspect he knows he weights more than the tree, so staying on the ground is the smart choice. He just snuggles into the tree skirt like it's his job.  This is same tree skirt I used to wear over my clothes when I was a kid and we decorated the tree.  The blinking star on top of the tree, which was an early addition to my parents' enormous holiday decoration collection (think foil star from the mid-1970s), seems to mesmerize him.

Like Pumpkin, I don't really know why Keely has decided to live under the tree. He tends to come out more since he really enjoys the sun by the sliding glass door, but he spends about 75% of his time during the day under or near the tree (he spends his nights sleeping on my legs and getting annoyed when I move). He's not great at hiding, so maybe this is an attempt at practicing his hiding skills. Maybe he's trying to reclaim some of his hunter/I'm the descendant of wild cats essence. Maybe that tree skirt is just really comfortable. Maybe Keely realizes we all need a little festive holiday cheer, and who doesn't smile when a chonky cat sleeps under a tree? 

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen Project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. The deadline for submissions has been extended until then end of the year. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art.

Decisions are made by those who show up

I started re-watching The West Wing a week or so before the election. I, like many of you, was feeling a little bit all over the place in the lead up to November 3. The show aired on NBC from 1999-2006, and focused on the fictional presidency of Democrat Jed Bartlet (Martin Sheen) and the staff of the West Wing. It foreshadowed the Obama presidency in many ways, and showed DC in all its glory and weirdness. I loved the show when it originally aired, although I don't remember seasons six and seven as well as I remember the first four seasons. I haven't watched the entire series since it originally aired. 

It's odd to watch it now. In the world of The West Wing, Democrats and Republicans get along in the big picture of things. Divisions exist, but the divisive political world we live in today is not the norm. I always thought of The West Wing as a presidential fairy tale; it showed us both the best and the worst of people and there was always a lesson to be learned. The show is idealistic on many levels, and a little bro-y, but it's set in peak DC bro years, so no one should be surprised by the bro-iness. There's something magical about the way it depicts our country and the office of the President. It also makes me so curious about many things. I had to look up our current Poet Laureate, and am constantly looking up historical references and stories. The show gives me hope for the future, something I've struggled with, particularly since March.

The last four years have made me think about the country, democracy, and patriotism more than I normally do. I mean, I think about these things a lot, but I haven't spent this much time in a concentrated period of time doing so. Before the Trump years, I don't think I thought about the President as much as I do today. I'd like to return to a time when I don't think about the President this often. This isn't to say I won't do my part to hold any President accountable for his/her actions; I just don't want to do it every day. My experience as an Election Officer was eye-opening in a lot of ways. Americans, as a whole, don't understand how elections work. I've known this for years, but it seems like more people are waking up to the fact that we've created a system that is flawed and is rife with voter suppression. From registration deadlines and rules to ID laws to redistricting to the timeline for certifying election results, Americans are horribly under educated. And that's exactly what some people want. If you ever question whether your vote matters, remember that people wouldn't work so hard to keep you from voting or to keep your vote from being counted if it didn't matter. 

Voting is a type of power. That's why it's so important to actually get out and vote. One of the things I realized as I was working on Election Day is that it also creates a world of perceived power. During the day, I worked with some wonderful volunteers from both parties. Voting precincts are staffed by members of both parties, as well as independents and those who don't align with party affiliations. This is supposed to create a safe and equal voting experience. I got the sense that most people, especially the other first timers, had signed up for reasons similar to mine. They wanted to make sure people could safely and securely vote in person, and they wanted to help their community. Like me, most of the group was working at their polling precinct, so helping their actual neighbors. 

There was, however, one person who I couldn't figure out at first. Why was this person, a white man (older than me, but younger than my dad), volunteering? He seemed so anti-everything: he didn't want to wear a mask even though all officers were required to (he was the subject of a voter complaint about this). Any problem with an ID or a voter's status couldn't be solved, except that it could be. A curbside voter looked "too young" to really qualify (except the person was unable to walk without assistance, but sure only old people need help). At one point, he joked about gun ownership with me. While none of his actions were overtly aggressive, he was clearly trying to make a statement. He was trying to show his power, or at least the power he perceived he had. 

Some of you may think I'm overreacting, but I've been listening to men explain things to me my whole life. This was someone who didn't like that I knew the rules as well or better than him. Someone who didn't care for a woman (a voter) telling him to put his mask on before helping her. Someone who didn't care about social distancing rules. Someone who made a "joke" about gun ownership while checking the ID of Latino man and then questioning whether the man's ID and address were valid. This was someone who didn't care about fair elections or whether every vote got counted. He was determined to make others feel small and unimportant. 

As we wait for the 45 to acknowledge that he lost, I've been thinking about this man. I'll probably never see him again; he doesn't live in my precinct but was assigned to it this year because we needed people. I'll never see him again, but I'll "see" him every time the 45 goes on and on about nonexistent voter fraud or Moscow Mitch sits on a stimulus bill that could actually help people. I'll see him every time a Trump supporter spouts some cult-ish sounding sound bite about election results or that COVID is a hoax, despite the virus not going away and the numbers of sick and dying continue to increase. Just thinking about how many times a day I'll see this man is exhausting. 

But there is another side to this. The last four years, and this particular election, have shown us how important it is to vote and to be heard. It's shown us the difference voter education makes (let's talk about the amazing Stacey Abrams and Georgia) and that our vote does matter. We have a long way to go to fix the election system in the US (among other things), but this election showed us what can be done. This is why watching The West Wing has been so calming these last few weeks; it's about possibility and the power of the people. As President Bartlet reminds us, "Decisions are made by those who show up." Elections aren't the end of something, but the beginning of the next thing. And we all need to show up for whatever comes next. 

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen Project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. The deadline for submissions has been extended until December 1. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art.

I gave her my vote, and she gave me a pen*

The first time I voted in a Presidential Election was in 2000. I voted for Al Gore, and I don't recall receiving an "I Voted" sticker. I don't think that was a thing in 2000, but I could be wrong. I remember watching the returns that night. We weren't at the point we are today where we expect results instantly. We seemed, as a collective, to understand the results would come when they were completely counted. Of course, the 2000 election was a disaster, and it brought on, well a lot of things. I volunteered for my first presidential campaign in 2004 because of the 2000 election. John Kerry ran that year. It was one of the most boring campaigns I have ever worked for, but I still did my part. Since then, I've worked on way more exciting campaigns and some relatively tame ones. Regardless, I love elections and I love working on campaigns. 

As I write this, we don't know who won the election. Several states are still too close to call, and mail-in ballots are still being counted. We may not know for many more days. That's how this is all supposed to work. I know there are people, and when I say people, I mean the current president, who don't believe this. A candidate cannot declare they won. That's not how this works. For once, we need to curb our desire for instant gratification and be patient. I know it sucks, but it's reality. 

I spent Election Day working as an Election Officer for my county. Given the year we've had, I made the decision to volunteer my time making sure that my fellow county residents' right to vote was protected rather than volunteering for a specific campaign or party. Voting is legitimately one of my favorite things. I'm not suggesting that our voting system is perfect, but I believe in the power of voting. It, along with protesting and contacting your elected officials, are the big three of how we exercise our rights and we participate in democracy. Election officers and poll workers are the people who make elections work. They are the people who keep the act of voting safe. I'm probably not alone in thinking I haven't really done much in these last several months. Maybe I donated money to some groups and candidates. Maybe I made 30 Screams to reward people for being good citizens. I've done things, but I feel like I should be doing more. Being an Election Officer was my way of doing that. Election workers are literally your neighbors. One of my fellow officers lives across the street from me. I saw at least three people from my neighborhood too; I don't know them, but I see them walking their dogs so I "know" them. That's one of the cool things about being an election worker; you're helping in your actual community. I really love that. It's direct and it feels useful.

 Yesterday was long, interesting, and reminded me why I love voting and elections. I don't know how much people know about what goes on during the day at a polling location, but it's a lot. Election officers are responsible for setting up voting machines, checking in voters, resolving issues, officially sending results to the election office, and being nice to people for hours on end. The pandemic has added additional safety protocols and social distancing. It's humbling how much trust others put into people to make sure their vote counts. We have to remember that all the time. This is what we will continue to fight for; protecting voting, making sure people can vote and their vote gets counted. 

My day in one photo

Most of my day was spent working as a greeter, helping with curbside voting, and explaining that we didn't have "I Voted" stickers this year, but we did have "I Voted" pens. Basically, my job consisted of saying hello, directing people to stand on the second blue X on the floor, and then telling them which poll book station to go to. I would occasionally be asked a question about ID requirements or about the ballot (which I couldn't really respond to unless if was a question about if there was a second side to the ballot). I enjoyed curbside voting more than I thought I would. I got to help someone with a provisional ballot, helped a lady with an ancient driver's license, and got the nicest thank you from a man who seemed so nervous about voting. He was concerned about his ID, which was expired. I explained how the ID laws work, and I could just see the worry leave his face. That made my day. 

My absolute favorite part of the day was cheering for first time voters. I didn't count how many we had, but it was a pretty good number, and it included both young voters and older voters who registered for the first time. The reactions to our cheers ranged from shy embarrassment to excitement to pride. I don't remember if someone cheered for me when I voted for Al Gore in 2000, but I'm glad I could got to cheer on all of these first time voters. 

We may not know who won for days or even weeks. It's stressful. It's not fun. People are going to say and do stupid things (I'm looking at you, protesters in Michigan shouting "end the vote counting"). There's nothing I can say that will change that or stop someone from being stupid. I hope this process moves as quickly as is fair and reasonable. I hope that people will see the power of voting. No one would work this hard to stop people from voting if it didn't matter. 

I have more to share about my experience as an Election Officer, but today isn't really the day for it. Today, I want to simply enjoy the fact that I yesterday I watched a young woman walk with more purpose than I have ever walked with, to the check-in table, give her ID, and cast her first vote in a presidential election. I need that to be the image and memory that gets me through whatever is coming. 

*One of my favorite movies is Say Anything, and the line "I gave her my heart, and she gave me a pen" guts me every single time I watch it. For whatever reason, giving people "I Voted" pens made me feel like Diane Cort over and over again yesterday. No one wants an "I Voted" pen. 

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen Project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. The deadline for submissions has been extended until December 1. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art.

I forgot that anything can happen on Halloween...

I know I said last week that the Island was on a break until after the election, BUT I had a realization this morning about this weekend, so you get a bonus post. You're welcome.  

Halloween is this Saturday. I know, Halloween is on a Saturday! Additionally, there's a full moon, Mercury is in retrograde (I guess), and daylight savings time is this weekend. That's a lot of stuff in one weekend. Normally, I like to post a video from the 1986 classic The Worst Witch on Halloween. It's a little song called "Anything Can Happen on Halloween" performed by Tim Curry. I've always felt this section was the weirdest part of the movie, but I also love it because it's Tim Curry. In a normal year, there would be absolutely nothing wrong with me posting this video and encouraging y'all to get out there any enjoy Halloween. 

But...it's 2020. Posting a video of a song called "Anything Can Happen on Halloween" is a terrible idea. I don't trust whatever forces are controlling this year. They/It/Whatever might decide my posting of the video means that they/it/whatever can unleash murder gerbils or broken glass hail. I can't risk it. This got me thinking: if I shouldn't post this video, what other things shouldn't any of you do this Halloween? 

Because I care about you, I put together a list of ten things you should avoid doing at all costs this Halloween. This year, which is legitimately the longest year on record, is not the year to leave anything to chance. I'm also not a monster, so I've thrown in ten alternative activities to get you through the weekend. 

Ten Things to Avoid This Halloween

1. Don't accept anything, candy, directions, voting advice, from a stranger. This is good advice normally, but it's particularly helpful this year. Check your sources, and only eat candy you've personally purchased or you steal from your kid's stash.
2. If you happen upon a woodland creature or a very majestic forest cat who seems to want you to go on a quest, DO NOT GO ON THE QUEST. 
3. Are you excavating something right now? Stop. Put down the tools. Step away from the large hole you dug. If you continue to dig and find a skull, jars, the GOP's spine, put it back, cover it up, and move. You can't live on top of that mess. 
4. Related: don not open any tombs, graves, or other ancient sealed locations. They were sealed for a reason. 
5. This is mostly for my friends in Louisiana, but everyone should still listen. If you find an old bottle buried near the river (or other body of water), leave it there. Don't move it. Don't add it to your weird antique bottle collection. Leave it be and maybe leave something to appease who/what was watching over that bottle. If you really need antique bottles, go on Etsy and buy that shit like a normal person. 
6. Avoid any type of abandoned institution, particularly hospitals, prisons, and asylums. They were abandoned for a reason.
7. Don't buy a wreck of a car from an old man on a whim. That car is haunted. It will kill your friends. 
8. While tempting, there is no reason to go anywhere near the site of "unspeakable horrors" in the town where you live. It may sound innocent to go visit the birthplace of Mitch McConnell, but you're only feeding his weird turtle energy. Stay home!
9. Don't be rude to your elders. This is how curses happen. 
10. No Ouija boards of other summoning devices. There is no reason for you to summon a demon or open a hellmouth this Halloween. I would even avoid Scrabble; you don't know if spelling an innocent word like "oxyphenbutazone" will cause the end of the world. Don't tempt the fates. (Fun fact: oxyphenbutazone is the highest scoring word in Scrabble, coming in at 1778 points. It's an obsolete anti-inflammatory drug.) 

Ten Things to Do on Halloween

1. Stay home! I know your house is getting old, but all of this will be over so much sooner if we all stay home. 
2. Wear a mask. It's Halloween so you can really go to town with this one. Break out that hockey mask and do your best Jason Voorhes impression. This is your moment. 
3. Enjoy all of the candy you bought because no one is trick or treating this year. Pair it with wine! If you really want to imbibe, I suggest pairing bourbon with any chocolate/peanut butter candy. It's delicious.
4. Watch scary movies. Check out Pumpkin's 2016 recommendations. She was a smart cat. 
5. Carve a pumpkin. Bonus points if it's voting themed.
6. Go to bed early. The time change is about to happen, and that screws us all up. Get some extra sleep while you can. 
7. Tell scary stories or read a scary novel. I've recently finished Mexican Gothic and Stephen King's new short story collection, If It Bleeds. Highly recommend both. 
8. Dress up your pet! You spend 24 hours a day (basically) with your pet now attending to their whims, the least they can do for you is allow you to put them in a costume for one day without plotting your demise.
9. Make a "a meteor may hit the Earth the day before the election" kit. I don't really know what would go in this kit, but it would be fun to see what everyone comes up with. Bourbon? Would that be a good thing to include?
10. Finalize your voting plan! Election Day is just days away. If you haven't voted yet, use this time to get your voting plan in order. Check out I Will Vote for resources. Already voted? Awesome - you are doing your part! Submit your voting story to my Be a Good Citizen Project so you can get some free original art for being a good citizen. 

Happy Halloween! Let's all do our part to stave off the end of the world for at least a few more days. 

As an added bonus, please enjoy this photo from last year when I made Keely wear a Halloween tie. He hated it. I thought he was adorable. 

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen Project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. The deadline for submissions has been extended until December 1. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art.

10 Days

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. The deadline for submissions has been extended until December 1. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art!"

What's fun about writing a sort of weekly blog is that I can look back at a fixed point in time and see what I was doing at that time. Memories may fade, but the internet is forever. While I don't remember all the details of exactly what I was doing 10 days before the 2016 election, the Island reminds me of these three posts in the weeks leading up to the election:

• Down a the Rock N Roll Club - I went to the Green Day concert at the 9:30 Club. Remember concerts?
• Twenty-Two Questions - In which I pose 22 questions about how horrible/ridiculous the 2016 election cycle was. How I wish all of you had listened to 2016 me and voted very differently, or you know, voted at all. 
• Lazy Movie Weekend: Pumpkin's Guide to Halloween Movies - Yes, dear Pumpkin was still with us, being all judge-y and helpful with recommending her top ten Halloween movies. Keely would love to tell you his, but he's too busy staring at the same spot on ceiling. Obviously, we have a ghost. 

That 22 Questions post! Some of those questions are still very relevant today. It's odd to think that so much has changed in four years, but so much has stayed the same. The first question was, "When did the GOP get so weak?" and that's followed by several additional questions where I ask how members, particularly someone like John McCain (who was still alive), could align themselves with someone like the 45. It's like I was trying to tell y'all something and some of you didn't listen. Or you did listen, but you were like, "But her emails" or "I can't  vote for a lady who looks that stunning in a white pant suit. What will the neighbors think?"

We're 10 days from the election. Over 40 million people have voted early, and according to The Washington Post, we've exceeded the numbers of people voting early in 2016 (114%). In some states, more people have voted early than voted total in 2016. People are waiting hours to vote in some places. While on the surface this is patriotic and awesome, it also points to a larger issue we have in this country: voter suppression. Long lines don't just means record numbers of people voting. They also mean there "may be" (are) inadequate numbers of polling locations open or not enough poll workers to support the numbers. All polling locations have put safety protocols in place because of the pandemic, which means it takes more time between voters. For a democracy, we have a complex and poorly managed voting system that is, as I told someone earlier this week, designed to keep voters away. That we have record numbers of people voting early is a testament to the power of voting, and I hope this means we can finally have a conversation about making voting fair and equitable. 

Obviously, we're still in the middle of the a global pandemic. This is a huge difference between 10 days before the 2016 election and now. Let's not be cute, we're still in the middle of this in the US. We have no national testing plan. We had the highest rate of new cases since July this past week, with a record number of cases being recorded in one day. The 45 and members of his staff and family all have tested positive, and still nothing changes. People are still being assholes about wearing masks in public. Rather than keep people away from the polls, there's seems to be an energy around voting that I haven't felt since Obama's first run. People, and it's across the political spectrum, want to be heard. The days of letting someone else's vote matter more than yours are done. That people are a waiting in long lines, in the middle of a pandemic, illustrates this clearly. 

Which leads me to the last thing that is different from 2016 to 2020: my feelings going into this election. In 2016, I volunteered for the Clinton campaign. I wasn't the most active volunteer, but I did a lot locally, and worked on Election Day as a poll place greeter. I was excited. I was hopeful (not Obama level hopeful, but hopeful). I wore my Hillary shirt and helped answer questions about the ballot for people going into vote. I posed for a photo with one of my state representatives, and made an appearance on his Twitter feed that day. I went home and watched the returns, like I've done every election that I can remember. It was not a good night. I woke up hoping it was all a bad dream, but it wasn't. And here we are, four years later in a very bad place. 

So as I go into this election in 10 days, I'm more reserved. The pandemic and everything that has happened since May, has heightened my feeling of existential dread, something I didn't feel in 2016. My role is different this year. As an election officer it's my job to make sure people can have a safe voting experience. I'm nervous, not because it's overwhelming to think that my job is to make sure you get to vote, but because I really don't know what's going to happen on Election Day. Are people going to be violent? Are people going to wear masks and not complain about it? Can we really offer a safe election day to everyone? What happens when we find out who won?  

I feel small glimmers of hope, not big hope like in 2008 or 2012 or 2016, but little hope. I've scaled my level of hope to my expectations about 2020 as a whole. As I wrote back in August, which feels like a century ago, I really want to go back to a time when I can write about movies or ask my cat questions or discuss my inevitable march toward being an old lady who yells at children to get off the lawn, but we're not there yet. I'd love to spend time detailing my foray into making an Election Cake, but I wonder if that's still too frivolous for where we are today.  

The next 10 days are going to be difficult on many levels. Do yourself a favor and reduce the number of hours of news you watch. Pumpkin recommended 10 movies back in 2016; watch those instead (Keely would like to add that if you can find it watch The Stand (the 1994 version) or The Monster Squad). If you haven't voted yet, make a plan to do so, either early or on Election Day. Check on your family and friends, and make sure they've voted or are planning to. Be nice to your polling place volunteers; we're there to ensure you can safely vote - don't be an asshole. And please, whatever you do, don't write in anyone on the ballot. Don't waste your vote. 

The Island will be back after Election Day!

I left my house for the weekend

I'm sitting in a hotel room in Richmond watching Corpse Bride. It's funny because I'm in town for a wedding. It's also probably not funny because I'm in town for a wedding. My sense of humor is an acquired taste. But...it's also 31 Days of Halloween on Freeform and I don't have cable at home, so I feel obligated to watch it. 

I haven't been this far away from my house since March. I haven't stayed in a hotel since February. I haven't worn makeup or heels since March (probably?). I haven't been around a large group of mostly people I don't know since March 7 when I took my brother to a DC United game for his birthday. My life exists in a small bubble of sameness: get up at 5 to feed the cat and work out, work from home, make dinner, binge watch sixteen seasons of Top Chef, make some embroidery art, go to the grocery. Occasionally, I get wild and go to Target or Michaels. Sometimes I order food from DoorDash. Last weekend, I had socially distant tacos and coffee with friends. I'm sure my pandemic life is similar to a lot of people. We're trying hard to do the right thing since we can't rely on federal leadership to do anything to help manage what's going on. We should be able to, but we can't. Ratings are more important than people's lives, at least that's what the Idiot in Chief thinks. 

But I digress.

Doing normal things during an incredibly abnormal time feels strange. I talk about this all the time with friends and co-workers. The amount of extra planning that goes into doing things like getting a cup of coffee with someone now involves looking at all the angles. Is there outdoor seating? If not, is there an open space nearby? Do you have to pre-order the coffee? Can you pay with a card only? How close is the line to get into the coffee shop to the outdoor seating area? How many people is too many people? Do I have enough hand sanitizer? So many questions to get a cup of coffee. 

I know many people have put plans on hold for things like weddings, and I'm sorry that's something people have to do. The wedding I'm attending was supposed to be a month ago, in a different venue. The couple had to re-plan everything and found a new venue, outdoors, to give people more space and feel more comfortable throughout the day. It's a smaller event, with a lot of people who live locally. I appreciate all the work that went into ensuring we all feel safe while we celebrate their day. 

I also know some people reading this will judge me and the couple and the others in attendance. I get it, I do. I've thought about whether to attend this wedding a lot. As someone who has been telling everyone to be responsible and do the things we're being asked to slow down the spread of this virus, I asked myself if I was being irresponsible. My bubble is my parents and my brother. They're the only people I regularly see, and I stay home and am careful so I can continue to see them once or twice a month. I can also say I've done nothing but be safe and think of others since March. I stay home, I wear my mask, I only make necessary trips to the store. I wash my hands all the time. Since I live alone, I can easily self-isolate for the next two weeks just in case. This will get me to Halloween. Then it's Election Day, and I'll do the same thing after that day. If all goes as planned, I'll see my family for Thanksgiving. Since I plan to break the bubble, I plan to stay away from the bubble until I know I won't cause them any harm. That's how it works.

And so I sit in my hotel room watching Corpse Bride. Normally, I'd go for a walk or find some fun local activity to do until I need to get ready to go to the wedding later today. There's no reason to wander or browse or meander. I went as far as the lobby cafe for coffee. I'll venture out in a little while to find something for lunch. I'm trying to figure out which mask goes with my dress because that's a thing we have to do now...masks, but make it fashion. It feels decadent to sit in bed, drinking coffee and watching a random movie away from home. It feels decadent being away from my house. 

But I'm glad I ventured away from my bubble, if just for a few days. The joy of seeing my friend get married is worth the planning and the considerations. Joy is a form of resilience, and we all need to find it were we can.  

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out this post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art!"

An Open Letter to the Dude Who Decided Not to Get in Line to Vote

Hey guy I don't know, 

How are you? How's your day going? You seemed a little lost on Friday when I saw you while I was waiting in line to vote early at the county government center. No, this isn't some weird "missed connections" post; I noticed you seemed overwhelmed and thought you might need a little help. That's all. The line was a lot. I waited three hours to vote, between waiting in line and the time it took to actually cast my vote. If I factor in the drive time, it really took me five hours to vote. I know, that's a lot, but I'd wait longer to vote if I had to. That's how important voting is. 

You kept walking back and forth rather than getting in line. You stopped to talk to the security guard about the wait. Her time estimate was spot on, and you seemed, when talking to her, ready to commit to getting in line. Then you walked back to your car. And then back to the line again. In the time you spent walking around, you could have been halfway to voting. 

Are you really going to come back or vote at a satellite office when they open or vote on Election Day? Maybe you live closer to the government center than I do or have more flexible time, but why didn't you just take the plunge and exercise your right to vote right then and there? You need to let your voice be heard, and you were so close. 

I know three hours is a long time to wait. You could have watched at least one MCU movie while waiting (I'd recommend The Avengers, Black Panther, Guardians of the Galaxy, or Captain Marvel). You could have caught up on the news or started that book you've been saying you're going to read, but it's just been sitting in a pile next to your bed. Or you could chat with the your fellow county residents; I met three very nice people while waiting in line. We discussed voting trends and the weather (as one does). Or you could have just stood there and reveled in the fact that you're doing your part to protect democracy. 

You may be asking yourself: Why is the line so long? Why is it taking so long to vote? A lot goes into running a safe and fair election. Some people may make it seem like elections are the easiest thing in the world to manage, but I can tell you that is a lie. With early voting, voters from all over the county (or whatever municipality) are coming together in one location. Election officers have to take extra steps to ensure each voter gets the right ballot for their precinct. I was an easy voter with my standard ballot, but other parts of the county have some additional items to vote on, so it takes a little longer to make sure the ballot and the voter match. You might want to take some time to check online for a sample ballot if you're wondering what else you're voting on this election. 

Also, they're trying to process thousands more people than normal for early voting. They're doing their best to adjust to these record numbers, opening more conference room space and using as many election officers as they can. When satellite offices open in mid-October, it'll ease up and wait times should reduce. They're doing their best to manage yet another unprecedented event of 2020. Election officers have a hard job. They have to ensure so many details are processed to make sure your vote counts. That takes time. 

I hope you'll be back to vote early or maybe you decided to vote on November 3 instead. Either way, now that you know what's up, take some time to make a voting plan. Give yourself time. Pack a snack and some water. Bring a book. Be nice to your election officers. 

I hope you vote. 

Have a super day, 

The lady in the dinosaur cardigan doing her part to save democracy

Reminder: Show your good citizenry! Check out my last post for the details of my Be a Good Citizen project. Use this link to complete a short questionnaire on your good citizen-ing. I'm like the Oprah of rewarding good citizenship: "You get a piece of original art! And you get a piece of original art!"

The Be a Good Citizen Project

I started writing this blog back in 2011 when I lived in California. I moved there for my job, and didn't really know many people, so it was part way to keep in touch with my friends and family, part way to feel less overwhelmed by living in a new place. I enjoyed living in the Bay Area, specifically in Alameda, but it was also like being dropped onto an alien planet. The Island of Misfit Toys became a place for me to work things out, and vent when needed. In the nine years I've been writing this blog, I've shared personal things, written funny stories about homicidal Peeps, and created very interesting lives for both of my cats. I know my more recent posts have been way angrier than what I normally write. I wanted to spend the summer sharing my novel (a few chapters at a time, like how books used to be published), but 2020 had other plans for everyone. Recently, I've felt like I was spinning in an angry writing place, so I took the last few weeks off from the blog. I've been thinking about stuff and things. I've been thinking about the mess we're in (insert PJ Harvey song here). I've been thinking about how to stay connected in this weird world we live in. So I hatched this little idea I'm sharing with you today. 

Back in July, a Japanese theme park announced its reopening. (Do you hear that, America? That's the sound of countries reopening and having real national leadership.) In "normal times," the reopening of a Japanese theme park wouldn't be a big deal, but this is 2020. Nothing makes sense anymore, and everything is a big deal. The reopening was significant for a very specific reason: in a video promoting the reopening, visitors were asked to "Please scream inside your heart" rather than screaming out loud as they rode roller coasters. This was a safety measure, of course, but it's also the most perfect thing anyone has said since March. 

I don't know about you, but I think "Please scream inside your heart" is the perfect way to describe 2020. The day I read the article about the theme park, I embroidered myself a version of the saying. I love it so much, I've now made a total of five original patterns depicting the idea of screaming inside your heart. I can't help myself. Each of the patterns were designed for one of my friends (or myself), so they're named after them too:

• Erin - The Original Scream (first image)
• Jessica - French Knot Scream (third image)
• Heather - Screaming Balloons (second image)
• Bridget - Tiny Hearts
• Kelly - The Roller Coaster

People love these pieces. I chalk it up to a combination of my whimsical awesomeness and the accuracy of the statement. This got me thinking: how can I use these gems to make the world, or at least my part of it, a little bit better?

And then someone posted a meme on Facebook about giving adults prizes to do things like wear a mask, you know, like when we used to get pizza for doing our summer reading. It hit me: I can reward people for being good citizens, but instead of pizza, they get a piece of art. Genius!

I decided to make 10 of each of the first three patterns (Erin, Jessica, and Heather) for a total of 30 original pieces. Each one is hand drawn and hand embroidered. It will be framed (in a hoop like the first image above), numbered, and signed. Lucky recipients will also receive a hand stitched good citizen card (see below - glitter paper!). It's going to to be awesome. As of this writing, I've stitched 13.

So, how do you become the proud owner of one of these amazing works of art? 

EASY - by showing me how you're being a good citizen. 

I know the vast majority of you are out there doing your best to make the world suck less, and you do it with no thought or expectation that you deserve accolades for being a good citizen/human. You're doing the right thing. You're making your community a cool place to live. You're helping people who need it. You're already a good citizen. You deserve a gold star, or a piece of random art from a person you may not know. Same thing. 

I want to see good citizening in one of the following categories (all activities have to have been completed in 2020):

1. Volunteer - maybe you made masks or donated food or helped someone with their resume or something related to a job search. How have you been volunteering your time/skills/awesomeness?
2. Let's vote! Did you register to vote for the first time? Awesome - tell me about it and why you decided to register. Already registered? What's your voting plan? Having a voting plan is so important this year.
3. Getting out in the streets...or engaging with your elected officials - Have you protested or participated in a march? Or maybe you've been texting/emailing/sending letters to your elected officials. How have you been showing up for social change? 
4. Wear your mask - I wanted to make sure one option was so easy, anyone could do it. Take a photo of yourself out in public, wearing your mask, and practicing excellent social distancing. (See logistics/disclaimers for a note about this option.)
5. Donate. If you can donate, show a receipt of a donation made to one of the following organizations made in 2020 (yes, I'm gating this one a little bit, but it's my project so I get to make the rules):

• The Trevor Project
• World Central Kitchen
• Feeding America
• Campaign Zero
• Dolly Parton's Imagination Library

Complete this amazingly easy Google Form to tell me your story. You'll be one of eleven people who own one of these pieces of art. You get something cool for being a good citizen. How much fun is that?!

A few more logistics/disclaimers:

• If I receive over 30 entries, I'll hold the entries over that number for a second campaign. I'll let those people know what to expect.
• Embroidery pieces will start shipping in October. If you live near me, and are cool with it, I can deliver your piece to you (following social distancing best practices). 
• If you are one of my friends for whom a pattern is named, you're not eligible to get another one. 
• You don't get to pick which pattern you get. I'm going to use a very scientific method involving my cat, Keely, deciding which person gets which pattern. He's really good at this sort of thing. 
• You have to live in the US. Sorry friends around the world, I didn't budget for international shipping. Maybe another time. 
• Only three people will get picked for wearing a mask. Wearing a mask shouldn't be such a big deal, but it is, so I wanted to applaud those of you doing the right thing and wearing your mask.
• I'll close the form once I hit 30 entries or on November 3, whichever comes first.  
• I reserve the right to disqualify any entries if the person submits something inappropriate or horrifyingly irresponsible. If you use this to be a jerk, you get nothing. 

Complete the Google Form today! 

Being a good citizen matters. Sending some love via a random piece of art matters. Neither of these things are going to make 2020 be less of a dumpster fire, but at least we can all scream inside our hearts together in the knowledge that we tried. We did something. That matters. 

An existential crisis

As regular Island readers know, I love being a good citizen. When I say "good citizen," I don't mean someone who follows all the rules or never questions why things are the way they are. I mean a person who cares deeply for her community and country, especially when doing so is hard or the motivation is lacking. To me, a good citizen is someone who participates - by voting, protesting, paying taxes, getting involved, getting angry, crying while watching convention speeches and montages. It's also about small things like putting your cart back and not cutting people off in traffic. I'm the type of person who gets excited about jury duty, and then doesn't have to serve (side note: I have now served on a jury and it was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life).  

One of my favorite "good citizen" activities has always been volunteering on various political campaigns. I've been doing this since I was 17 and handed out flyers for Mark Warner's first Senate run. It's fun, despite the horrible things old ladies in Southwest Virginia call you (rhymes with punt), and I like having the backstage look at what happens in state or local campaign offices. I was so excited in 2016 to campaign for Hillary Clinton. I canvassed, I phone banked, I registered voters, and I worked as a poll place greeter. I felt energized in way I hadn't felt since that first campaign 20 years earlier. It wasn't that I didn't feel like part of something bigger in other campaigns (Obama's first term comes to mind), it's that this race felt uniquely personal. 

And then I woke up on November 9th. 

I was gutted. I couldn't believe she didn't win. I knew I it was going to happen before I went to bed on Election Night; I stayed up until Florida was called, but I had this hope that I'd wake up the next morning and it would all be revealed as a horrible joke. And here we are, almost four years later, living in the most messed up timeline in a long time. Trump's America in 2020 is a disaster and he is an embarrassment. Existing in this country at this time is exhausting. As Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham (NM) said during the DNC, Trump's presidency is "an existential crisis." I don't think I've ever agreed with a statement more than this. I feel it in bones how exhausting it is. I have never in my entire life thought about the presidency more than I have since he was elected, and none of it is good. I'd like to return to a life where I don't spend so much time thinking about what disaster is going to happen next. Or what stupid, racist thing he's going to say next. Or worry that the Post Office is going to collapse and one of my neighbors won't get his medication on time (I'd go get if for him if I could, but that's not the point and it comes from the VA). I legitimately can't think about what another four years of this will do to all of us. 

And so I did what good citizen me does, I stayed up late on two school nights and watched nights three and four of the Democratic National Convention. I figured that the convention, which I've watched every presidential election cycle since 1996, would cheer me up a bit, or at least give me some hope. I missed the roll call vote from night two, but watched it on YouTube. It's amazing; take the 40-ish minutes and watch the whole thing. Then go watch Michelle Obama and Jill Biden's speeches from the first two nights. They're wonderful.

I opted to watch nights three and four so I could watch Joe Biden and Kamala Harris accept their nominations. There were times when I was moved to tears: Gabby Giffords's speech, the segment on gun violence victims, young climate change activists, domestic violence survivors discussing Biden's role in getting the Violence Against Women Act (which needs to be reauthorized now), anything about Beau Biden. Other times, the speeches and videos were energizing and made me so proud to be a citizen and a member of this party. Yes, I was annoyed Mike Bloomberg had any time and Julian Castro had none. I understood why some speakers had more time. Elizabeth Warren will always be my candidate (excellent BLM message in background). I loved President Obama's "fiery" (you know, Obama fiery) speech, and cannot wait for Vice President Kamala Harris. 

The moment I was most moved by and have been sitting with since Thursday was during Joe Biden's acceptance speech. It was probably the best speech I've ever seen him give; he wasn't a candidate, he was a President. I forgot what a having an articulate President looks like, what a leader looks like. It was overwhelming to watch (in a very good way). The part of the speech that hit me the hardest was when Biden offered his condolences to those lost to the pandemic. I started crying; that was the moment that did it. We haven't had any sort of national mourning or memorial for those lost. Unlike past national tragedies, we haven't come together as a nation to mourn. I could rationalize that because the pandemic is still raging in the US, it's hard to nationally mourn, but that's only part of it. The problem lies with the person currently occupying the White House. Biden did, in a few minutes, what the president should have done, but hasn't. The contrast between these two men could not be any clearer. 

I know I'm being a bit of a broken record these days, but I can't stress enough how important it is for everyone to vote. It's not just about being a good citizen; it's about fighting for the soul of this nation. I can't stress that enough. Please don't stay home or vote third party because Joe Biden wasn't your candidate. He wasn't mine either, but I understand, and I think a lot of people grumbling about him understand, he's the candidate we need right now. What I saw during the DNC was a unified party, something we haven't had in a long time. We need that to defeat the Impostor in Chief. 

I really want to go back to a time when I wrote about movies, my ridiculously handsome cat, and day trips to Dinosaur Land, but I can't do that right now. I hope that sometime in 2021, maybe around the middle of January, I'll be able to return to our regularly scheduled Island. Until then, this is what you get. Reminders to vote, be decent to one another, and wear your damn mask. 

(This photos are from an embroidery piece I finished a few months ago. One side is a song lyric, the other side is a graphic representation of the lyric. This lyric is from "People Have the Power" by Patti Smith.)

In which I discuss TikTok with my dad

My dad's a funny guy. It's a subtle humor, unless he's telling a dad joke. He's very good at dad jokes. Since I don't go anywhere except the store, and my parents don't really go anywhere except doctor's appointments, I see them once a month (approximately). Back in May, I was visiting and catching up with my dad before dinner. I was telling him amusing Keely stories and talking about work. My dad shifted the conversation to a topic I wasn't expecting. It went something like this:

My dad: Do you know what TikTok is?

Me: Yes...

My dad: I want to watch those videos of the female comedian who's doing the parodies of Trump. How do I set up an account? 

Me: You don't need an account. Let's search for them instead. 

And scene. Apparently, The Washington Post ran an article about Sarah Cooper and Kylie Scott that very morning and he wanted to see the videos because he thought they sounded hilarious. We talked about ways around having an account, how he could search for them or I could send him links (I don't have TikTok, but I am a fraction better at the internet than my dad). I don't know if he finds them on his own now, but I do send him links occasionally, so there's that. Can you imagine what my dad's TikTok account would be like? Videos of him being annoyed at squirrels for eating the plants? Him and my mom talking about the various birds who hang out in their backyard? In addition to squirrel hate and bird watching, my dad's hobbies include going to the commissary/grocery, complaining that he can't hear the dryer when the cycle ends, and watching Hallmark movies and shows on HGTV. You know what, I'd watch those TikTok videos even if he wasn't my dad. They'd probably be unintentionally hilarious and incredibly practical. 

Anyway, this isn't about my dad as much as it's about the fact that my dad thinks the 45 is a joke and his love of the parody stylings of Sarah Cooper should tell you something important about the way people are consuming media and news these days. Neither of my parents like the 45; they didn't vote for him and want nothing more than to see him out of the White House and in prison. They've never been what you'd call liberal, but since the 45 was "elected," there has been a very distinct shift in their politics and social justice opinions. It reached peak hate during the impeachment hearings, particularly around the treatment of Lt. Col Alexander Vindman. I have never seen my dad that angry at the government. Everyone has their moment, and I guess that was his. It's been even worse since March; I've had conversations with them about race and politics and police brutality that I never thought I'd have. It's been a fascinating almost six months. 

Real talk: the recent announcement of an Executive Order banning TikTok has nothing to do with the security issues the platform has been criticized for since it's launch. That may be used in the discussion around the order, but that's not the reason. If that were the reason, that would mean the 45 cares about people other than himself, and we know that's not true. The order is aimed specifically at Sarah Cooper and the TikTok teens who "ruined" the Tulsa rally. Both Cooper and TikTok teens/K-Pop fans take up so much real estate in the 45's brain, it's no wonder he's saying bizarre things during interviews. It has to enrage him that more people would rather watch Sarah Cooper than an actual press conference. And the kids? How dare they! 

More importantly, we should be discussing this Executive Order for one very specific reason:

He signed an Executive Order about TikTok instead of doing anything useful about the pandemic.

In his most recent very stupid interview with Jonathan Swan, the 45 actually said "it is what it is" when asked about the 150K+ people who have died due to COVID-19. Are you fucking kidding me? I say that when the cat throws up on a yoga mat or I have to sit in traffic going south on 95 on a Saturday at 10 am. That is not how the President of the United States is supposed to react to the deaths of his citizens, especially since he and his administration sat by and watched this happen. They had the power and the means to do something, and didn't. He has the audacity to sit in this interview and throw his hands up as if there was nothing he could do about it. I don't blame the 45 for COVID-19, but I blame him for the botched response, the crap economy, and the deaths of 150,000+ Americans. He owns all of those things because he did nothing. No wait, he did something. He spread lies and disinformation and withheld plans because only "blue states" were being impacted. This is apparently how presidents behave. 

For those of you still supporting this monster/moron, what is actually wrong with you? (Also, why are you reading my blog? Is it for the cat posts?) How do you sleep at night knowing that he allowed so many to die? Knowing that so much of this could have been prevented? I don't sleep well all the time; it might be the cicadas and frogs outside my house, but it's mostly the ideas that you as a voter exist and that he is the President. I guess I wasn't designed to understand you, but I hope between now and November you wake up and realize he doesn't care about you, your family, or your life...unless you have lots and lots of money or are a racist.

For the rest of you, everyone who is exhausted and angry and scared, I implore you

VOTE!!!!

If you didn't do it back in June when I originally asked, take time now to get your voting plan in order: 

• Get the address of your physical polling place. For those of you who already are registered, check to see if it moved. This happens all the time, and can cause confusion when you go to vote. 
• Know the hours polling will be open - if you are in line before the end of polling hours, you can still vote. 
• Understand the identification requirements for your state.
• Check into mail-in and absentee ballot rules for your state. Not all states are allowing for mail-in ballots because of COVID-19. so you need to know what you're able to do and how to do. 
• Educate yourself on the ballot. You need to know what positions and ballot initiatives will be on the ballot. Find candidates that support your values and learn about initiatives because your tax dollars pay for them. 

Normally, I'd offer to drive people who need rides to vote, but I volunteered to be an election day worker this year. I don't know if I been accepted yet, but I'll be busy that day, so I won't be able to take people to vote. Please figure this out now. This is the one election where you can't wait to the last minute to figure this out. 

Voting is legitimately what we have left, not just to deal with the 45, but to deal with the people who enabled him. They had the power to stop him, but have opted instead to be greedy, horrible people at our expense. Teach them a lesson, and vote them right out of office (I'm looking at you, voters in Tennessee, Kentucky, South Carolina, and Maine). They're as much of the problem as him, and they don't deserve to serve in Congress.

A final word about TikTok - Sarah Cooper and the TikTok teens will be fine. They will/already have found other ways to get things done. Sarah Cooper is a capable, hilarious human. We'll still see her videos when she posts them. And the teens? Well, if the 45 had raised any of his children he'd know that taking things away from teenagers never works. If they want to do something, they'll figure out how. Not only will they figure out how, but the new solution will be at least ten times more effective and a hundred times more embarrassing for the parent. Teenagers are pretty inventive, so good luck with that.

Stay safe. Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Be nice to one another. Vote. Black Lives Matter. 

Knots

I can stitch a French knot. 

This isn't remarkable, not really. Most seasoned embroiderers can stitch a French knot. Hell, most beginner embroiderers can do a French knot. I, however, have never been able to do them. I've been embroidering for almost 15 years, and it's one of those stitches that I could never grasp. I tried different techniques, but my practice knots were a big old mess. So I avoided French knots when I would create a piece. I learned ways to fake it, and my embroidery didn't suffer because I couldn't make a knot. Most people I make things for don't know what a French knot is, so it's fine. I can make a really beautiful piece with a back stitch, split stitch, and some cross stitches. 

Then I had an idea. Back in February, I asked my friend Kelly if she'd like to try an art experiment. I wanted to see what my embroidery would like over a painting. I don't paint, but Kelly is a gifted painter. I thought it would be fun to collaborate on something, and see if this would work. Embroidering on paper is one of my favorite things, but I had only done small scale work before (cards, little experiments in my sketchbook). Kelly agreed to try it out, and I gave her free reign over the subject and no timeline. Whenever she got to it would be fine. I was in no hurry to do anything. 

Well, of course, the universe has a way of making things happen. As we both stayed at home like good citizens, we had more time to devote to creative projects. By the end of April, I had four paintings in my house, waiting for me to embroider. Two landscapes and two florals. The second I opened the package I knew one thing: I would have to learn how to stitch a French knot. The flowers demanded French knots. And I didn't want to disappoint them. 

I taught myself how to embroider in 2006. I had finally come back to New Orleans after evacuating from Hurricane Katrina. I wrote about my post-K experiences in New Orleans at the start of the pandemic; there are a lot of parallels between the two experiences. It's not the same, but it's not not the same. One of the reasons I picked up embroidery was that I needed something to do in the evenings, in the quiet. Things weren't open, especially not when I first came back right after Thanksgiving. Most of my friends weren't back or weren't coming back, so I spent a lot of time alone. Work was weird (this is an understatement) and often mentally exhausting. Curfews were in place and the National Guard was still in town to help maintain order/peace/whatever. It was and wasn't New Orleans. Teaching myself to embroider gave me something to do that didn't require anyone else to be around, and I had everything I needed to make stuff, so I didn't have to go out. 

Keep in mind this was 2006, so while the internet was a big part of all of our lives, it wasn't what it is today. There weren't hundreds of YouTube channels devoted to embroidery. Sublime Stitching, the design studio where I bought my first kit, was one of the few companies around. The first kit included transfer patterns (I still have many of them), a hoop (still use it), a stitching guide, and some fabric to get started. Most of the basic stitches, back stitch, split stitch, stem stitch, were relatively easy to pick up. If you can do those three, you can embroider. I would eventually add chain stitch, satin stitch, and various techniques for the leaf stitch to my stitch repertoire. Some of my stuff was good, some of it was a hot mess. I embroidered postcards, place mats, pillowcases, bar towels, cloth napkins. I made gifts for people (I doubt they use any of it) and I made things for myself (I used everything until it fell apart). Embroidery kept me grounded in a time when nothing worked the way it was supposed to and everything was sad all the time.  

Since then, I've embroidered when I had time or the mood struck me. A few years ago, I started Wine & Crafts Day with some friends, and I used that time to embroider when I wasn't working on glitter purses. But I didn't challenge myself. It was all stuff I could do without thinking much - just pick the thread colors and stitch away. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's not particularly fulfilling as a hobby or as art. 

When stay at home orders began, I was working on my first commissioned piece. The wife of one of my co-workers saw the Tiger Stadium piece I made for my brother and asked me to make one for her. Once I finished that piece at the end of March, I needed to keep going. Once again, embroidery was filling the time I would normally have been out doing other things or commuting. The Tiger Stadium piece is my own design, so I decided to do more of my own patterns. I did one for Mardi Gras. I started designing embroidered postcards. And then there were the paintings. I needed to work on the paintings. 

Which brings me back to the French knot. My embroidery library has grown quite a bit since 2006. I decided to try one of my newer books, Edgy Embroidery, first before trying a YouTube video. I don't know if it was the visual guides in the book or author Renee Rominger's "you can do it" style of writing, but for whatever reason, the stitch finally clicked for me. I stitched a French knot. 

I can't even begin to tell you how incredibly satisfying it was to make these first three French knots. Fourteen years! Maybe I needed the muscle memory of 14 years worth of other stitches to finally make this happen. I don't know. I have no idea how the brain actually works. Thankfully, my brain decided to fully embrace the French knot. Not only can I stitch knots on fabric, but I figured out how to do them on paper. Carefully. 

Armed with my new stitch knowledge, I designed the stitch patterns for the two floral painting, including lots of French knots. I needed to make up for 14 lost years with no French knots. Making French knots is soothing. I know most embroiderers hate them, but do them anyway since they add texture and dimension to a piece. But I really love them. I feel about French knots the way some people feel about yoga - relaxed and quiet. French knots quiet my brain. 

Since finishing the paintings, I've started incorporating French knots in other projects too. I did a few kits recently, and was excited to see French knots included. 

I'm working on my first embroidered portrait and it has French knots. I took a little artistic license and made the knots a little smaller than the pattern indicated. I'm mildly obsessed with the result:

I have a bunch of projects to work on once I finish the portrait, and one of them is a project made entirely of  French knots. I made my own pattern, and plan to use shades of orange and pink to fill in the design. If I like it, I plan to make this pattern into a series with some additional touches. If I don't like it, well, I'm going to like it. It's French knots in orange and pink. I didn't know I needed French knots in orange and pink until I was sitting at home for the 40th or 50th day in a row and finally figured out how to stitch a French knot. 

Thank you Jenny Hart (of Sublime Stitching) for teaching me to embroider 14 years ago (not in person, but you know what I mean) and thank you Renee Rominger for teaching me how to make a French knot. And thank you Kelly for agreeing to try this whole painting/embroidery experiment that "forced" me to learn the French knot. I look forward to our next collaborative piece, whatever that may be.

Who knew tiny stitches would help me find some level of control in an otherwise chaotic universe?

Stay safe. Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Be nice to one another. Vote. Black Lives Matter.