Even awful dreams are good dreams if you're doing it right
Today in petty revenge fantasies: I would laugh so hard if someone hacked Trump's phone to play "The Phony King of England" every time he received a tweet or text or call.
Off to meet with
phi and M. at Jewish Voice for Peace.
Off to meet with

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That might be more art than he deserves.
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Never hearing from Trump again would be a blessing to the nations. I really was just thinking in petty terms!
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"Too late to be known as Don the First / He should be known as DON THAT INCREDIBLE LOSER."
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"And now I vacuum the turf at SkyDome."
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A little more disorienting than I was hoping for, because it leapt straight into planning and organizing without much more than going around the circle and asking new people to name things that gave them hope (I said my ice-hockey-playing niece and the Boy Scouts finally including trans boys), but if I had wanted to join the breakout group for new members to introduce themselves I would have needed to skip the breakout group on anti-Islamophobia and I was much more interested in one of these things. The breakout group on anti-Islamophobia was worth choosing; I got posters; I am supposed to meet up with other people and canvas Arlington and Somerville to see if small business owners will put Muslim-supporting posters in their windows. I haven't gone door-to-door since I sold Girl Scout cookies something like twenty-five years ago, so it should be interesting to see how it works. I'm planning on going back for the next meeting at the end of February, to see what that one's like.
Also there was free pizza and brownies, in which the part of my heart that is forever a grad student rejoiced.