Still fighting, still resisting: February 27, 2019

Dear Mr. VP,

I know. It’s been awhile.

Let’s say I’ve been in the weeds, and when I looked at my days and where my limited mental energy was being expended, writing to an old white dude who likely hates me because of my identity didn’t make the “must do” list.

So I sat back and thought, take a break, collect yourself, and re-envision this project.

I thought about just ghosting you altogether, but my experiences with online dating and ghosting make it clear that’s not the cool thing to do. We’ve hung out for long enough that you would deserve a goodbye and an explanation. (It’s not me, it’s definitely you.)

I thought about ditching the project completely (with an explanation letter to you) but that didn’t seem right either. This was my baby for a long time, and you don’t just abandon your baby (despite what you might think wacky progressive women want to be able to do).

Frankly, I’ve found that not writing doesn’t seem to be helping my anxiety at all. In fact, it’s been at an all-time high in the past month, and I wonder if having this place to let out a primal scream about what’s wrong in the world might be a good coping mechanism. Maybe lecturing you means I can settle more comfortably into my real relationships with all the people around me, something I’ve been finding difficult lately.

So where does that leave us? I think that leaves us with less frequent, but perhaps longer and more well researched, posts. I don’t have the time to put together a well written and well argued letter every day. You’ve heard all the reasons why before, so I won’t reiterate here other than to say when I’m having a dance party with my kid before bed, I want to be focused on that, not on what I’m going to write to you after he goes to sleep. I do, however, feel like without pressure to do it every day, I could do some good work.

It’s always been hard for me not to get things perfect. I like to do things 100% all the time, and so if I feel like I’m failing, I anxiously quit whatever it is. (See: basketball in elementary school, knitting, any number of abandoned writing projects.) But here, I’m going to give myself some grace, and reimagine what this space could be.

Still fighting, still resisting,


December 31, 2018

Dear Mr. VP,

I’m over here reading Politico articles in bed. Happy New Year to me.

I did come across this gem, from an article about your talks with Chuck Schumer to avoid government shutdown:

“Asked whether there are any Senate Democrats with whom the vice president shares a close working relationship, a senior White House official deadpanned, “He has a good relationship with Jeff Flake,” the outgoing Republican Trump critic from Arizona.”

Oh, the hilarity.


December 29, 2018

Dear Mr. VP,

Tonight, I got the rare chance to wander around a bookstore without a child in tow. It meant I got to actually look at the books, not just fend off requests to purchase a toy.

And I found myself in the young adult section, which I quickly realized is your worst nightmare. I think that basically every other cover was emblazoned with a pentagram, and even if there was no pentagram, it’s likely the book had some sort of strong take-no-shit female character fighting in a post-apocalyptic world, and we know how you feel about that.

I have to think — or at least hope — that if this is the steady reading diet of teenagers, we won’t ever have a Vice President Pence again. If we can get them to vote when they turn eighteen.