Good morning good morning!
Sending you the same wishes as always this morning: that you’re well rested, in some kind of stretchy material, and sipping a hot cup of coffee/tea/love.
Can I tell you something? Last night, when word got out that the ACLU had secured a partial stay on the president’s executive order, I put down my cheap glass of wine, paused “Under the Tuscan Sun” (#guiltypleasure) and burst into big fat tears.
I’m the great-granddaughter of an immigrant, and I know the levels of “great” in front of that “daughter” make it a little less potent, but I’m still filled with gratitude and awe at the number of people who continue, often, to leave everything behind and start anew in this country.
You and I both know that, while it has copious problems and needs lots of TLC and maybe some tough love, this country was already great.
Keep fighting the good fight, and don’t tune out for a second. We’ve got ’em looking now. Let’s go.
This video about creativity: Art is Theft.
Actually planning an Affirmation Party as I type.
Group gut check: are we all still mad about “sorry”?
A history of marching women. If the women’s march last week was your first protest, don’t let it be your last.
I am the actual worst because I’ve been listening to this song on repeat (oh god, it’s the catchy ayyy-AYY-ayy-AYY-ayy I think also the album is literally called Sunday, y’all). (I also finally listened to Kendrick’s To Pimp A Butterfly all the way through, in order, and it is 1000% better than just picking tracks that stood out to you, as my friends kept telling me).
Have a nice Sunday, you cutie-patootie. Someone is really hoping you’re single, probably.