Going through my closet. Throwing out all my rust-colored belts.
#takingaction

Going through my closet. Throwing out all my rust-colored belts.
#takingaction

Watching TV…
Eric: “Who’s that?”
Me: “Come on, you know who that is– Idina Menzel! Huge broadway star.”
Eric: <silence>
Me: “The original Maureen from ‘Rent?!'”
Eric: “I’ve never seen ‘Rent.'”
And with that, I have moved on to the next existential crisis.


The sibling text chain has decided to return to a simpler time, when presidential sexism was more subtle.

Ok, today was tough. But tomorrow I buy a pantsuit, insert a pussy-grab protector, reach for the nearest hat, and hold the fuck on.
We got this, ladies.

That moment when your therapist can’t fit you in tomorrow because she’s received too many calls for Trump-related emergency appointments.

To vote for himself– the only reason Donald Trump would ever set foot inside a public school.

(fittingly, he got booed)
“And that, kids, is how your mama helped defend the world against the most evil of monsters, and did her part to save humanity from crumbling into a hateful pit of divisive despair.”
— Bedtime story I will tell my future children. Because the best stories are real stories.
