Thoughts on the 2020 election

I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about what John King’s body looks like under his suit. Is that bulk muscle? Is it pudge? Whatever it is it’s very regal…

I never thought I would feel so intimately connected to news anchors. But I guess that’s what happens when an election keeps going and going, and when the TV never turns off…

Confession: I know Stacey Abrams, grass roots organizer and African American voters are the real heroes of this election. But John King has to be a superhero of some kind. I mean – has he sat down in two weeks, let along slept?

Quotidian Antisemitisms

When people say CHallah bread…

At my WASPY elementary school, I accidentally bumped into my academic nemesis as we lined up at the door. He turned around, looked me in the eyes and said ‘Jews have the knack of getting on my nerves.’ We were in 3rd grade. I wonder how he learned a phrase like that…This Chanukah House decorating kit which my friend saw at the grocery store, 3 weeks before Thanksgiving, amongst the undiscerning ‘holiday’ kitsch…

The giant White House menorah pretending it can compete with the glorious National Christmas Tree…

In college, people would ask my roommate and me if we were sisters. All the time. We look nothing alike. But we do look Jewish. Our noses, by the way, are big in entirely different ways…

When I was little we lived next door to a lovely elderly Filipino couple. One day while we were out for a walk, the old lady said to my mother ‘Oh, you Jew because you have big nose.

Mask up!

I’ve seen these very fancy masks sold by an expensive brand, adorned in pearls. They even have pearls strung on the ear elastics. Maybe I have extremely sensitive ear-backs, but large, hard beads are the last thing I need around this appendage…

When my kids wear masks they always end up with a giant spit-soaked target in a matter of minutes. I can’t help wonder what is healthier for those around them, for those particles to fly free in the air, or for them to accumulate in this wet, disgusting way…

As hard as those MAGAs fight against wearing a mask is as hard as my 2-year-old daughter fights to wear them. For her birthday she finally got a set of Frozen masks, all her own. I think she was more excited about this gift than her adorable playhouse her father spent 3 hours assembling…

Air travel was already a Xanax-popping activity for me. Honestly, the world has just now caught up to my germ-cleaning practices. I’ve always wiped down my tray table and seats with Lysol-years before this product became liquid gold. The one good thing to come out of this pandemic is that I’ll now be able to wear a mask on airplanes-like all the Asian travelers I’ve always been jealous of-without feeling like everyone is judging me.

Aunt Flow

I was 14 when I got my first period. I was expecting it since most of my friends had already gotten theirs. There was a little Italian restaurant that we passed by every morning on the way to school. For some reason my mom and I had decided that when I became a woman we would dine here to celebrate. I ordered spaghetti marinara. And when the server placed it in front of me, I burst into tears and couldn’t eat it. The sauce was too reminiscent of the tragedy of menstruation that had befallen me…

At summer camp when my friend Rachel got her period (she was young maybe 10 or 11), she couldn’t figure out how to insert a tampon. Or was it remove it? Regardless, Rachel solicited my help. I can still imagine the exact bed she was sitting on as I kneeled between her legs. The shame of helping a girlfriend in this way was so great that I have never told anyone about this experience…

When I was young and still using sanitary pads, my aunt told me I absolutely had to try tampons – that I’d never go back. Recently I tried a Diva Cup for the first time. While I was a bit offended that I qualified for the larger size (determined by age and number of children you’ve had), I can safely say that I will never go back! I want to shout the message from my rooftop – the Diva Cup is really THAT revolutionary…

I am very grateful I never had to figure out how to wear one of these contraptions, though I do grieve the days when it was acceptable to sit out of P.E. class when Aunt Flow was in town.