Nasty Women Vote | Random Misanthrope

please note: my usual laziness and ambivalence will be suspended for today. As various ideas pop into my fragmented mind, I may or may not blurt them out in manic fits of euphoria, paranoia or confusion. It’s been a difficult election cycle for all. On the verge of potentially (as a Philadelphia sports fan, I know better than to hope for any positive outcome) witnessing the election of a female president, I’m finding myself genuinely overcome with emotion.

During my years as a member-facing consultant, I never procured a single pantsuit. That was a pointless endeavour, as I’m short and didn’t feel like spending money on a tailor after buying an expensive suit. Skirts it was. Sadly, no pantsuit in the wardrobe for me today.

Undeterred, I yanked out one still-on-the-hanger-from-the-cleaners navy blue jacket and paired it with a red and white striped shirt, dark grey skinnies and my sugar skull boots which are embroidered with the phrase “Don’t walk in fear.” Kang’s version of a pantsuit will have to suffice for the only time I leave the house: the carpool.

Rock on, Pantsuit Nation.

…and The Replacements.

I love politics. I love music. This is not a secret.

Imagine my splodey-hearted-and-headed joy when I read that Tim Kaine loves The Replacements. Imagine my bliss when he quotes “Bastards of The Young.” Imagine my being unable to function for the rest of the day as I sit at my laptop and draw hearts in the air with one of my eight legs while dreaming of the potential Vice President and Paul Westerberg. Together. With Tim playing in the background. All of the Tims. All of the time.

There has been nothing redeemable about this shitshow of an election cycle. My child cannot watch the debates, let alone the news, with me. I have been called a Skype and an Oven Dodger. We have heard “Grab ’em by the pussy” for the first time and it’s not Mrs. Slocombe doing the talking. For someone who finds political theatrics intoxicating, this election has been the equivalent of drinking too much grain punch from a frat house garbage can and puking down the front of your shirt in front of the really adorable guy you had been trying to get with the entire time you were in school; a messy, public humiliation that everyone is talking about.

Until now. Until Tim Kaine saved the day and restored hope to this bleak hellscape by speaking of the underrated brilliance of The ‘Mats.

Once I’m done coloring in my hearts, I’ll cross my eight legs and hope for a Hillary/Tim victory. Not just to restore sanity to this frothy cauldron of doom, stupidity and hatred this country has become. No. But for an inaugural ball befitting a modern era and featuring The Replacements as they should be – loud and drunk.