Dear World: Letters Inspired by Election Night

Dear History,

How are your annals? From what I could see, they got pretty thoroughly pounded the other day. As far as American racial milestones go, you have been virtually annally celibate for what now, fifty years? Jesus. You really were in need of a good pounding, weren't you? Well, congratulations.


Heart,
Anneliese





Dear Other People In Grant Park,

Thank you. Thank you for being the nicest people I have ever met. You were all friendly and helpful and considerate—even when waiting in what was essentially the world’s longest and most claustrophobic airport security line.

Also, thank you for smelling like hope. I knew that compacting hundreds of thousands of people together for this historic evening would fill the air with the stench of hope, but—not having smelled it for almost a decade—I thought hope would reek of B.O.and head grease. It turns out, concentrated hope smells like flowers and freshness. Who knew?

Finally, thank you for not shooting or burning anything. That would have been embarrassing for Chicago.

Love,
Anneliese





Dear Lady Who Sung the National Anthem in Grant Park,

Please learn the words to the National Anthem. That was embarrassing for Chicago.

Smooches,
Anneliese





Dear Everybody Who Wasn’t in Grant Park,

I was fewer than fifty yards from Barack Obama when he made his acceptance speech. If you are wondering if this makes my life better than yours, the answer is, "YES!"

Yes. It does.

Suck it,
Anneliese





Dear CNN,

You are liars. Will.I.Am was not a REAL hologram. I know this because the RedEye told me so… in an actual article that someone actually took the time to write after actually researching it by interviewing actual physics professors.

Sorry,
Anneliese





Dear RedEye,

Are you kidding me? Seriously?

Haaaahaha. You. Are. Dumb.

I don’t even know,
Anneliese





Dear Arkansas, Arizona, Florida, and most of all California,

I am soooooo not talking to you right now.

Wait. Time out on Silent Treatment.

In this blog, try to avoid cussing to such a gratuitous degree that it overwhelms the sentence and distracts from the actual meaning of my words. That said, fuck you. You are a bunch of fucking douchebag, back-asswards motherfuckers. I hope that one day, someone tells you that your love isn’t real, that God hates you, and that you can’t raise a child because you would fuck it up just by being who you are.

Ok. Now I am REALLY not talking to you.

Fuck you,
Anneliese

P.S. Time in on Silent Treatment.