Hi.
I’ve tried to remain a bit of a mirror on here, but I think it’s time to dispense with really any distance between us because we need community in this hell.
If you subscribe to this newsletter, you are as destroyed by this election as I am.
I think we survive this by staying connected. So consider The Grudge Report a letter to you, when you need it, from me.
On election day, I was in urgent care with the worst case of norovirus I have experienced. I had an IV in my arm and was half-conscious as the results were coming in. The physical incapacitation and pain so far outpaced the emotional crisis, which was in retrospect a bit nice.
I woke up groggy and depleted and I wrote my grandmother’s words and sent them out to you. Yesterday, after forcing down three saltines and a Pedialyte ice pop, I wrote that rage tirade.
Last night, I lifted my two-year-old last night putting him to bed and it knocked the wind out of me. I had to sit and catch my breath outside his room.
And that’s when I cried.
How can we lift our children when our reserves feel depleted? How can we find strength when our efforts have all been so futile?
How can we muster any of the energy we need to survive this when we put it all on the line to make sure this didn’t happen?
I put my oldest son to bed last night and he tested reality, the way children do:
HIM: I hope Kamala Harris wins the election.
He knew she did not. They talked about it in school.
ME: Kamala Harris got 70 million votes, which is amazing because so many people wanted her to win. But she didn’t get more votes than Donald Trump, so he’s going to be president this time.
HIM: Until he dies?
ME: Oh! Um, no - the good thing is presidents take turns, so he only has four years, then it will be someone else’s turn.
HIM: What happens if he is not a good president?
ME: The good news is, Kamala Harris called him and told him that no matter what he has to try his best to be good. And so he will try his best to be good. And no matter what a president does, my job and Dada’s job is to make sure you are always safe. There will be many presidents during your lifetime, and as you grow up, your job is to make sure that no matter what they do, you always help make the world safe.
HIM: But now it’s your job.
ME: Now it’s my job.
Now it’s my job.
Now it’s our job. For the next four years, I will devote every letter of this newsletter to finding ways to stay sane and safe as we fight against a man who seeks to destroy both.
For the sake of all our children. And for us.
In that spirit, here are your daily ways to stay sane and safe, from my community to yours. Also, as if it needs to be said, absolutely nothing on this newsletter will ever be sponsored. This is just me. To you. That’s why I do this. And that is why you are here. Everything that sustains this is your subscriptions, the small handful of you who pay. So:
SANE:
The incredible Sharon Horgan’s female rage catharsis show Bad Sisters comes out with its second season next week. I recommend the first season with every cell of my body and give it 10 out of 10 Pedialyte pops. My friend Victoire sent me the reminder of season two this morning and for that reason I leave all my jewels to her in my will.
SAFE:
My friend Mollie passed along this incredible, secure resource for anyone trying to navigate reproductive healthcare options. Save it. Share it. May it be there for someone when it is needed:
Thank you thank you thank you. I am avoiding all non-book media for the foreseeable, because I'm not ready. The only thing I'm keeping on is this newsletter. It's the only thing I could bear/dare to read, and yes, it helps. Your words are the only safe ones for me right now.
love you, bess. thanks for this, and for all of your words. let's fucking do this together!