Time Marches On

But I’m not.

Marching, I mean.

I wanted to march. I was ready to head to Washington and join my brothers and sisters in a stand against hatred and divisiveness. I wanted to let it be known that I’m not willing to have my rights as a woman compromised. We have worked for long and hard. Fuck letting this administration get it’s grubby, itsy bitsy, miniscule little fingers on my rights.

I am pretty sure the universe finds it adorable when I make plans.

I’m not complaining about the plans that are getting in the way of me marching this weekend. I am driving a state away to collect my husband. It’s been a long 3 weeks, you guys.

I will be marching in spirit.

I will be there in person for the next one, and the one after that. Because we can’t afford to be complacent. We must be diligent. We have to resist and not allow hatred and bigotry to become normalized.

Now, it begins. The day has come.

I’m not grieving like I was back in November. I’m sure as fuck not happy about this, but I am resolved. I will stay involved. I will continue to call my elected officials weekly, if not daily, and let them know what I find unacceptable and what I expect them to do about it.

I refuse to see my immediate future as desolate and abysmal. Fuck that.

I plan to find as much to laugh about as I can over the next 4 years. I plan to spend time with my family and find ways to be useful. I will alternate between putting my head down and plowing through and holding my head up and being proud of who I am. I will reject bigotry when I encounter it.

I will not give in to fear. I will not bow in the face of hatred. I will be kind to strangers and attempt to acknowledge people I encounter with a friendly word. That one is hard because people freak me the fuck out. I will forgive myself for the moments when I am afraid or I turn away from bad behavior because I am intimidated. I will forgive myself for the times when I stare at the floor and pretend other people aren’t around me. I am not perfect, but I am trying.

I’m also going to play with Alfie the kitty because he’s adorable.

I hope you all have a lovely weekend. I will be making up for lost time with my big man. Which means we’ll probably take a long nap together.

Remember when I did the podcast on Fiftiness? I am there again talking about the day I found out I was post menopausal.

Okay, and here’s Dude on his first vacation. Randy insisted on taking him the last time we visited our mountain friends. Mountain girl, much to my surprise, got her own Dude, only she named him Rudy. Randy was in stuffed dog heaven.

Sending you all thoughts of peace and strength and laughter. We got this.

 

28 Thoughts.

  1. “Randy was in stuffed dog Heaven.”

    Day made!

    Carry on, we shall.

    Have a lovely nap. I get mine at 2:35. Come hell or high water, both of which are highly possible.

  2. I was planning to go to the DC March until I found out I’m pregnant. I’m willing to put myself in a possibly unsafe environment but not Baby Groot. I’m marching in spirit as well.

  3. Heading out shortly to NYC. Wasn’t sure I was going to go through with it until about an hour ago, considered huddling in safety and marching in virtual sisterhood, but my kids are going and, as they said, “if you want to come, we have a pod.” So I will huddle in safety there instead. NOT MY PRESIDENT! Please let this be a day of peaceful protest.

  4. Joining those in DC by marching locally.

    You carry a heavy burden as we look to you for things to smile about.

    As our recently former President says, we need to be “Fired up!” and “Ready to go!”

    • I will take that responsibility seriously. I am sure I will have many posts that aren’t smiley..but I will do my best to help people smile. Maybe even laugh. That’s my favorite.

    • We all love hugs, although Alfie is a little pissed at us right now. We left him alone over night and he is none to happy about that. It’s been hours and he’s just now starting to warm up.

  5. We have some marches and protests going on here, and there has been a helicopter circling our sky intermittently since yesterday afternoon. I’m not much of a marcher anymore, what, with the quad-cane and all, but we will probably go down there and be a part of it somehow or other. All of our paperwork is straight and the car insurance is paid, so we’re probably good to go.
    I like it that they are expecting more people at the women’s march today than the inauguration yesterday.
    We need to remember to express our support for our good legislators as well as our resistance to our bad ones. I have Barbara Lee, Kamala Harris, and Diane Feinstein (who I sometimes have a problem with, but last week she took one day off from grilling Trump appointees to have a pacemaker installed and was back the following day giving them the hell they deserve) so I don’t have much to push back against.
    You have Sherrod Brown, who kicks holy ass, and probably would like to hear from you.
    Anyway, tell Randy I said hi, and take care of yourself, and have a good time if you can.
    P.S. Your podcast is hilarious, and the post post post post (see what I did there) was as well.

    • I have called Sherrod Brown a number of times, although, I will admit that my calls mostly go to Rob Portman.

      We are home and safe and it feels so good for things to be kind of back to normal. But given it’s January, I guess shit like this is now normal because it was around this time that Randy was coming home from a long stint in the hospital. I am developing a profound mistrust in January.

  6. The un-Husband got us tickets for the ‘Book of Mormon’ matinee today, and it was hysterical! But, as we approached the venue, I realized that the reason we were in such dense traffic was that women were actually marching in droves in our very red, northeast Florida city. I felt such guilt that I was unaware that this was going on. I don’t do social media. I’m an old ‘nasty’ woman who voted for McGovern in my first election (do the math), and, along with my mother and grandmother, probably cast the only Democratic votes in this area. I was amazed and elated when I realized that there are wonderful activist women (and men) in my city, and am ashamed that I didn’t know that this was happening.
    No, I didn’t join them, my legs are beyond marching. But I did manage to march myself into a beautiful theater, where I laughed until I cried. What made it different – as opposed to the crying jags I’ve had all week – is that I was joyful, as were the other patrons in a full house that gave the troupe a standing ovation. Today, my faith in our local artistic community, as well as my renewed faith in local activism, has buoyed my spirits more than anything has in months.
    When I came home (after great food and no media) and saw what had happened with the Women’s March internationally, and all over our country, I cried again. I’m so proud of all of us. I hope with all my heart that this is just the beginning.
    Remember, we are all tough, nasty bitches and we can stop Cheeto Jesus from his mission to take away the things we hold true. I will try to do my best as i hope we all are going to do.
    Sorry for the rant, this is what a couple of margaritas, with an extra floater, will do to an old girl!

  7. My husband usually awakens crazily early and puts on the radio to listen to the news. I prefer to be awoken by the birdies, but never mind.
    Anyway, this morning, before we had said another word to eachother, he quipped cheerily, “Let’s see if Donald Trump has been assassinated yet.” And then turned on the radio to see.

  8. Our awesome senator spoke inspiringly and wittily at the rally here in Boston.

    As did the state Attorney General, Maura Healy:

    “We’re gonna make our case day after day for shared values. I have a message for President Trump. The message from the people of Massachusetts: We’ll see you in court.”

    I heart Elizabeth Warren and Maura Healy so damn much!

  9. I didn’t go – I confess, crowds terrify me. But kudos to all those brave and outstandingly patriotic women and men who did go, all over the nation, all over the world. To think it all began with a single simple request, it boggles the mind to see how powerful we can be when we all pull together, when our mission is so clearly defined as it now is. And in my own small way, I promise I will continue to do my part, writing letters ad infinitum. I am so proud of us all. Yes, we got this.

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