Not going to lie. I’m glad Trump lost. Living abroad as an American was hard enough before President Pinocchio moved in. Even though I don’t live in the USA, I still get questioned about it. I stopped apologizing for our transgressions as a country years ago. “Honestly, I had nothing to do with it – I swear!”, was my go to response. Did people think my artistic-ass had anything to do with writing USA domestic policy? (I do have a history of international affairs, but that’s a different article. ) I know people are usually venting their frustration and disbelief with me, but sometimes it comes across as blaming. I don’t think Biden is the answer to everything, but he doesn’t seem the type to poke sleeping bears (wink-wink).

I can’t think of anything more boring than watching a presidential handover of power, or at least it used to be that way. In the past it was photo-ops and handshakes. Not exactly must-see TV. It didn’t come across as one of life’s unforgettable experiences, like skydiving or Purse Tossing at The Drag Olympics, but, they still do it. It’s a courtesy, like showing a new tenant where the toilet light is. Not something one wants to do, but we all know peeing in the dark isn’t a good idea, especially if its still your house (for a few more days). Trump has decided not to show Biden where any of the lights are. Luckily, I think Obama let him use the toilet before, so he already knows.

I do miss my country. I was really sad not to have been living in the USA when Obama was first elected. It seemed historic and like we were finally writing a new chapter as a nation. My grandfather, a life-long Democrat, refused to vote in 2008 election. He told me he couldn’t vote for Obama because he was a black man. He struggled with telling me why he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t unlearn the racism he’d been taught, so he was going to sit this one out. The world had changed but he wasn’t able to. Even though I disagreed with him, I appreciated his honesty. His struggle is part of the America that I know and one of the reasons I left.

No one was prepared for the events of 6 January. Watching it unfold on a BBC Livestream couldn’t have been more surreal. We’ve all seen movies and documentaries of rebellion and war, but I don’t think most of us have experienced it first hand or live on TV. I was afraid for everyone I know and love there. Almost every household in my family owns at least one gun and most of my friends don’t have any. Vive la différence! The rioters at the capitol that day had guns and god knows what else. They were ready to blow shit up, and still are. I was afraid of that moment and still am. Its been a long time coming. Extremists are tired of talking and ready to start shooting.

A fellow American friend of mine said she thought we were fearful as a nation. I agree with her. Maybe that’s why we have so many guns, because we’re scared. Though, I can’t figure out what we’re all scared of, unless its each other. Its always easier to be afraid of something you don’t understand than to try and learn about it.

Irony of ironies, I’ve been contemplating moving back. Having a bit more space and being physically closer to some life-long-friends seemed like a good idea after the Fresh Hell that was 2020. Now, I’m not sure if The Melting Pot USA is going to boil over. How the hell am I supposed to plan anything with one global crisis after another? I’m crossing all my fingers and toes that everything goes smoothly at the inauguration of Biden and Harris. We’ve come too far to go backwards. Can we please leave moonwalking back in the 80’s along with Reagan fantasies and the rest of our prejudices?