Marpy Chrismukkah!

Artificial Christmas tree with six-pointed star on top, decorated with toys.

What’s the point of a tree unless you decorate it with Ghostbusters, a plush Sriracha bottle, and a Star of David?

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Laugh Tonic

Pretty much like everyone else who values, well, values, I’ve been depressed/horrified (horpresstified?) since the election of Putin’s Pet, and the cabinet picks that have followed.

Watching a couple episodes of the near-future sci-fi anthology Black Mirror. Did. Not. Help.

I use a program called Freedom to save me from the addiction of the refresh button on Facebook, and from wallowing in the 140 characters at a time swamp of Twitter.

But even with the expulsion of Twitter and the hobbling of Facebook, today I was still in a trench of gloom. I was leaving the house to go to the Y, and told my daughter (through her bedroom door) I was going. She said okay sleepily. I told her she also had a package and she was insta-perky: “Oh boy!”

She went from drowsy to excited so fast I laughed. Which made her laugh. Which rocketed me out of my gloom trench and into happiness so fast that I could see how low I’d been, which made me want to cry.

(Warning to new readers: I’m a crier. If you like criers, I’m one of the best. I cry when I’m sad, when I’m angry, and when I’m frustrated. I leak for almost any occasion.)

Tonight, I pretty much made Twitter impossible to get back into, which gave me the kind of relief that standing up to a bad situation does.

Since you can’t see my relief, have a picture of my kitten, Umbra.

Black kitten playing with a yellow feather. An Xmas tree is in the background.