Actually, what I did instead was go shopping. Coincidentally, Nordstrom's Half-Yearly Sale for Women and Children started on 3 Nov 2004.
Because on top of the election results, yesterday I also got a text message that a certain someone is getting married and then shipped out, making him the fourth guy I know in Iraq.
For the first time in my life, I didn't watch the news or read a newspaper or magazine. I bought PJs for the long 4-year hibernation, had a fabulous pomegranate margarita after being approved for a Nordstrom card (which I've avoided for several years), and almost purchased every possible brainless fashion mag at Barnes & Noble.
Anything to stay numb. Anything to not think.
Ah, Prufrock:
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
Give me one week to completely sell out and be in denial, and then I'll get back down to business.
It started four years ago, driving down to DC for a massive Inauguration Day protest, and it hasn't ended.
It also means I won't have a life for the next four years. . . .
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