Jess Lahitou

The Republican National Convention ended July 21. If you’re checking the calendar, that puts us at twelve days post-nomination wrap up for Donald J. Trump.

In that tiny window of time, DJT has managed to wreck any conceivable polls-bounce he might have gained from the star-spangled show of pretend Republican unity.

I should begin by clarifying that I am no political reactionary.

The blatant promise of a career in the spotlight has stripped the Bachelor/Bachelorette of its beautiful, benign lie: that we could watch “regular” people navigate the perils and pitfalls of modern dating, that such a quest was in and of itself enough, and that a happy ending was a real possibility.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that Democrats and Republicans aren’t getting along so well these days.

If you’re a 20 or early 30-something, odds are high that you or someone you know has boomeranged back into a parental basement. In 2012, an estimated 36% of young adults lived at home with one or more parents.

Back in my early twenties, I struggled financially. But more so in that much-mocked Millennial quest of “finding myself,” I made a number of questionable decisions.

Good morning, America. Guess what happened yesterday? Donald Trump won six states in the primary, which puts him on the strongest path to the Republican nomination yet.

That Christmas Eve in Vegas changed me for life. I’ve tried to remember not to deny myself the things I love about the holiday.

The 2016 election has, for a while now, felt eerily akin to 1984 (lots ‘o doublespeak coming out of Trump and his supporters). Or The Hunger Games, to take a more recent example of dystopian genre fiction. Wherein, government becomes solely about politics and the media spectacle, rather than actual policies and ideas.

Because it looms a mere three days away, the subject of President-elect’s inauguration is a media fascination. Will there be protests?