An Ode to My Rubio Days
Disclaimer: I’m not Marco Rubio, nor do I support his politics. We’re both saucy little Latinos but that’s where the similarities end.
The Rubz did not have a good day yesterday. He dropped out of the presidential race after losing his home state of Florida to a person that is best described as a successful (as in living, breathing, often bankrupt) Frankenstein experiment but instead of dead bodies it’s just Karl Rove’s neck sweat merged with a ton of old potatoes and finally a desert tumbleweed used as hair/garnish (depending on your cannibalistic tendencies and your love for potatoes and sweat).
I can only imagine what Lil Marc did last night; chances are he sat in his bathtub with a bottle of Beringer Chardonnay while listening to “Everybody Hurts” and he used like, five different Lush bath bombs in the tub (that’s like $40!). Either that or he made the trek to Universal Studios Orlando where he went into Harry Potter World and cradled Dobby’s corpse (I know it’s hidden in there somewhere) while muttering a scrapped victory speech to himself and rocking back and forth.
Thinking about Rubafoo’s sadness reminded me of times when I too was so beat up by the universe that I got shitfaced off of Jim Bean (I know. Don’t look at me like that) and wept to Johnny Cash’s “Hurt” cover. I’m a strong believer in moping for a day when you’re sad and then wiping your eyes and moving the hell on. But when I mope, I mope hard. That’s the point! Here are some of those days and true stories of how I moped:
- The day I got my first F (in college!) and decided “fuck this day in particular” and drove all the way from USC to Santa Monica to pick up pizza from my favorite place, drove from there to Malibu, and watched the sunset while eating a family-sized meat lovers’ pizza by myself
- The day I realized I had dug myself into a misery-hole with a college major that I hated, so in the span of five minutes I dropped all my classes, added new ones from an entirely new major, and then went to a kickboxing class. The next day I officially changed my major from business to biology and I never looked back. This was when I realized I might be a touch impulsive and that I also make good impulsive decisions
- The day I got really, really sad upon realizing I was not fitting in at school so I got on the bus to Hollywood and paid for an industrial ear piercing (a giant bar through two holes in my ear) for some reason. This was when I realized I might be a touch impulsive and that I also make bad impulsive decisions
- The day I made the mistake of looking at my boyfriend’s phone (I know) after a two week relationship break (I KNOW). I had travelled four hundred miles to mend our relationship (we were dating for like five years okay, I’m not crazy) so I was stranded up there and couldn’t leave. I did the best thing I could do; take advantage of him storming out of his apartment and leaving me alone all day. I drank two whole bottles of $3 wine while eating an insane amount of Trader Joe’s frozen pasta. In the midst of my hot-messery I cleaned his toilet and entire bathroom. I wish this was a joke. We made up eventually, and I will always remember the highlight of the trip: an extremely bewildered “You cleaned my toilet?!?!?”
- The day my standup comedy set absolutely bombed so I went running to my parents’ for the weekend and they made me carne asada and I ate it with a blanket wrapped around me, swaddled like a little sad wannabe-comedian burrito
- The day I got sad because I didn’t get my dream job so I thought “okay, I’m going to go climb a mountain” and promptly set off to do so
What I’m trying to say with these stories is that much like the RubeTube I had miserable times but I eventually bounced back. There’s value in moping and sometimes it’s okay to eat a giant bag of Hot Cheetos while sobbing in your car. Hang in there you Little Nugget of Conservatism. I might not agree with your politics, or your strategy, or your forehead-to-hair ratio, but I promise it’s going to be okay. Mope on, Little Rube Dude! You’ll bounce back.
Ellie Guzman has a website and a cute dog. What’re some of your Rubio day stories?