I started writing this post last week. And last week? It just got away from me. The juggle is real. I’m doing a short term project, I had a houseguest, I ran my household. For the last year, I’ve been doing one thing, not all three, in addition to being Mom to The Teenager, Marcelle to my friends, and Girlfriend to the Boyfriend. Where to find the time to write has been challenging. But. The houseguest is on her way back to her home, the project has ended, and today, when I post this, I will be traveling back to New York from LA, where I’ve been with The Teenager, at an event. That post will come tomorrow. Like those of us who run/work out regularly, I’ve felt the void of not writing, of not finding articles of interest, of not connecting in this space. I’ve felt that emptiness. Writing is important to me, the outlet a necessary elixir. So. I will hold onto this thing that makes me happy, even those times when I have to put it aside, if only for a little while.
Tarana Burke: “I raise my glass to survivors, I raise my glass to little black and brown girls like me.”
Michelle Wolf killed it and people are just babies.
How did those Dear Abby’s handle things like brutes?
Sandra Bernhard. Talking about being smart about money. Listen.
Kim Wall’s murderer is found guilty. Sometimes, justice prevails.
Motherhood, in a nutshell.
Do you still have your copy of Our Bodies Ourselves?
Are you a super flasher?
Do not tell women to hurry up on their golf game.
And now have a laugh with Michelle Wolf.
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