cool pick of the week

If you’re me today, you are wearing purple because today is Spirit Day and it is just one day to put it out there that you don’t tolerate bullying of any kind. You are also wearing leggings and running shoes and a ball cap because after a morning walk-run, you are just too lazy to change because it’s Thursday and it’s errands day and you are rocking your mom-uniform hard today! It really doesn’t matter how you look on the outside because today you are feeling a little bit empowered after that third and final Presidential Debate because, thank gawd, it was the third and final debate and because your candidate owned that meet up…like a nasty woman.

You are driving down 99 to Modesto listening to one of your favorite podcasts when suddenly YOU HEAR LIZ DROP YOUR NAME and that Facebook post of yours when you were last on Facebook being social…except for that photo album from Kathy’s retirement party a few days later because when a coworker has been a nurse for FORTY ONE YEARS, you honor that.

But I digress…

Yes, you are out and about in the 209 running errands while listening to Spawned with Kristen and Liz of Cool Mom Picks talking about the need, especially right now, for some self care because the election season rhetoric of late does make us feel like we just might blow up and you do hear them drop your name because in your little world you imagine that you are the only “Laura” they know.

You scream out loud alone in your car while driving down the freeway and then you laugh until you cry all the while nodding your head yes over and over again because they are sharing some great tips right now for a little self care…which you know all of America needs right now…along with a hug and a pat on the back because we are going to be okay…


It will be. It has to be. I mean remember the 2000 election and how your then 8 year old Zoë was so stressed and worried that America was going to end because we went weeks not really knowing for sure who won the election until the Supreme Court stepped in and Gore conceded like a gentleman and a patriot? Good times those were…not. Yes, not the usual stuff that 8 year old nightmares are made of but the eventual takeaway for her, you and most of America is that every vote does count and it is super hard to fuck up the peaceful transfer of power that has been peaceful since Washington’s term as President came to an end. As horrifying as that orange-faced man is, soon enough he shall be consigned to the septic tank of democracy.

Tell yourself this, Laura and keep on taking care of you and those you love. Tell your family and friends this too…just like you did back in 2000. Also tell all your friends that they should subscribe to Spawned because Kristen and Liz are that great!

Election Day is November 8, y’all! Only nineteen more days…


Continuing with our at play in our own backyard Fall Break Daniel I spent the day in San Francisco. We were considering exploring the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art or perhaps the Contemporary Jewish Museum along with a bit of shopping at the new Lego Store but Yom Kippur and Wednesday changed the plans a little. No big deal. San Francisco is a big place with so much to see. Taking Abby’s and her roommate’s advice, we decided to explore Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Odditorium complete with all the kitschy oddities including lasers, lights and mirrors that come with trigger warnings for those with certain physical health conditions.

For us, it triggered perhaps a little vertigo at first but we got through it dancing and dabbing along the way.

Daniel dabbing and laughing because Mom dabbing.

Making our way through the mazes, we were cocooned for but a couple hours from so much going on in the world and it was a good thing.

Soon enough, back out into the light of day, there was the news of the World, the Nation, the Election to contend with. Twenty six more days…or is it perhaps forty six more days?  Regardless, those of us struggling to some degree or another just have to hang in there in the best way for us because the struggle is getting too real right now. Like so many, I’m taking care of me in the best way that I can right now which might include a little writing, a little venting on my ever-patient darling husband and a lot of muting, unfriending and blocking of especially those who are directly responsible for so much of the anxiety and post-traumatic stress that is what I live with.

Perhaps we are connected by family and love but to be brutally honest with you, who blew up my phone in early hours of this morning detailing just how worthless and fucked I am with my higher than thou shit as you describe it in your hate-filled meandering stream of consciousness that kept me awake through the night overwhelmed with anxiety, restlessness and palpitations, I don’t want or need that brand of crazy love in my life. Yes, I know, it’s all in my head just as it has been there for literally decades as I have tried to process terror, fear and pain that no person ever deserves to live through…terror, fear and pain that you were a party to. It is indeed all in my head. But thankfully, in the light of day, I can calm the anxiety and panic and I can block you out…at least for now…and I will because what you tell me is love for me is nothing but. It never was and it never will be.

I know it’s a campaign, but this isn’t about politics. It’s about basic human decency. It’s about right and wrong.  And we simply cannot endure this, or expose our children to this any longer — not for another minute, and let alone for four years. Now is the time for all of us to stand up and say enough is enough. This has got to stop right now.

Because consider this: If all of this is painful to us as grown women, what do you think this is doing to our children? What message are our little girls hearing about who they should look like, how they should act? What lessons are they learning about their value as professionals, as human beings, about their dreams and aspirations? And how is this affecting men and boys in this country? Because I can tell you that the men in my life do not talk about women like this. And I know that my family is not unusual.

~ Michelle Obama, October 13, 2016

we are here

Amazing how far we have traveled!

From building walls to being too ugly to be President.

How the menstrual cycle of a debate moderator most likely affects her fairness in such role.

Debating the size of a candidate’s hands versus the size of other body parts.

Accepting the mocking of a reporter’s physical disability.

Questioning the physical attractiveness of a candidate’s wife.

Borrow the speech of a First Lady word for word.

Post middle of the night Twitter rants against opponents, parents of soldiers killed in action, former beauty queens.

Candy and breath mints brands are compelled to formally distance themselves from a candidate.

Smile more!

Don’t smile!

Shout it out loud.

Stop shouting!

Don’t laugh.

Don’t stand by your man except when you are standing by your man.

And now grabbing pussies!

Yes, we are talking about grabbing pussies in a Presidential campaign one month before Election Day. We could agree that this is guy talk which is supposed to make such talk okay or that hopefully most men have evolved beyond the adolescent PE locker room banter. We might womensplain the trigger warning such talk brings about of that weird Uncle fondling hello at a family reunion or the middle aged stranger groping your crotch right before he exits the BART train or listening to a sound technician on your headset backstage discuss the size of the tits of a 16 years old GIRL on stage representing your kid’s dance team and honestly, why any of this behavior is acceptable at all….EVER!

We could. We are. We are because here we are one month before Election Day.

Meanwhile, pussies like Zelda just want to be left out of this.


just another bitch with an opinion, basically

When a man gives his opinion, he’s a man. When a woman gives her opinion, she’s a bitch.
― Bette Davis

Since the first debate last Monday, I have wanted to say so much…as has pretty much everyone else…and I thank every one who has flooded social media with all that you have wanted to say. Not that anything any one of us has to say is going to change any one voter’s mind as to who they are going to vote for. Of course I am assuming that there is really no undecided voter out there. If you are with her; you are with her. If you are all about a principled candidate to lead one of the global leading nations, yet has no clue as to what is going on globally; you are going to stand on those principles…even if his own running mate concedes Hillary Clinton is the most qualified. You might be supporting Jill Stein…sorry, I’m trying to understand that choice but I just can not. But you do you. Perhaps you are for Trump…and I swear I try really, really, really hard not to make assumptions…really I do, even if there are so many reasons why one might question the reasoning of a Trump supporter. We all are standing by our man or woman and I know there is nothing any of us can say that will change the resolve of the other.

So be it but god help us all too.

The biggest thing on my mind after the debate was the reality of what it is like to be a woman or a girl in this world right now in two thousand sixteen..


I remember one of my first parent-teacher conferences as a young mother. Hollie’s teacher began with enthusiasm explaining to me that it was easy to tell that my child was the first born because she always took charge making sure classmates knew what they should be doing at any given time.

Yeah. she can be pretty bossy sometimes.

No. No she is not bossy. She is a natural leader.

as first born children often are like 28 of the 44 US Presidents, and Gary Johnson and Hillary Clinton. And that, boys and girls was the first of many moments where I realized that I might imagine me a feminist raising my daughters to be feminists except I really had much to learn and understand…and I have thanks to raising up four amazing, smart, capable women who just so happen to be my daughters.

As mother to these women, watching them and their friends grow up through the years, I have come to see that they are not bossy. They are indeed so much more than how they might be dressed, how they wear their hair or whether or not they smile.

Whether we intended or not, like their mother (and perhaps generations of ancestors before them) they have mastered the art of looking interested when a dumb man is talking. Every single woman at some point in her life..and probably at a lot of points, and most probably on a daily basis has been forced to quietly sit and just accept that a man is yelling at her, or being wrong toward her or any other nonsensical thing that we as a society of women just accept is our lot in life in order to advance in school, in work and sometimes just to survive.

As women we learn that our appearance is a big factor in how the world sees us. From the time we are just girls, we learn that how we are dressed has an effect on pretty much everyone. Our dress distracts. Our dress labels us. Whether good or bad the question often ends being but what was she wearing even when one is running for President.

We are told to smile because when we smile we are prettier and the implication that appearing attractive to men is one of our responsibilities. Then there’s the humbling of being told the correct way to feel because we should always be happy! Except when we shouldn’t smile because we are being condescending and smug; which is absolutely not attractive…not. at. all.

And our voices…raise our voice we are shrill, bitchy and not feminine at all.

Don’t forget, we also can be too fat or too skinny.

In my lifetime we have indeed come a long way, baby, but this election season smacks us in the face every day that its a long, long road still.