He said he didn’t do it…

Maybe he didn’t, but by that standard, I mean, she said he did, so maybe he did. My gut believes her, and so does my head. My gut also says that it was all a giant circle-jerk to give the appearance of fairness, because the GOP is still going to put this crybaby monster on the Supreme Court.

Oh, for Pete’s sakes before you get all snarky about me calling him a crybaby and blaming me for exhibiting toxic masculinity – I think men SHOULD cry without judgement or mockery when they need to, but people like Mr. Kavanaugh don’t seem to believe that at all. In my humble opinion, the waterworks (and all that ugly screeching at Congress) were a manipulative tool to sway votes and the public to feel pity for him and thereby acquit him of all wrongdoing in our minds. It’s a pretty common pattern when the privileged are busted – screaming, denying, bawling, exaggerated claims about how their whole entire life is ruined… Sorry. I’m not buying it.

It IS interesting, though, that women are considered the hysterical, emotional ones…

I’ll save whatever other rhetoric and grumpiness I have for after they confirm this guy. I don’t believe for a second that it will happen any other way.


Sell-Out Conservative Women

I’m really curious about the women who are posting weird stuff like “groping isn’t that big of a deal” and “no man is safe, not your husband, not my husband, not your sons, not your grandsons…” basically saying OUT LOUD that A. women should just suffer through the unwanted advances of every man who feels so inclined and B. women are, in general, a bunch of lying-ass hoes who will say anything to ruin your man’s life.

I mean, I can see why men say it (YES, I KNOW “NOT ALL MEN”) – it suits the narrative that women are property and there for men’s convenience, yadda yadda yadda. But to sell out your own sex to help perpetuate that egregiously false narrative, well, it makes me kind of want to slug you. Wait, scratch that. I’m no liar and I don’t typically mince words, so this is better: “It totally makes me want to slug you, you stupid cows.”

Whew. That’s much better.

Here’s the thing. I have been leered at by grown men since I was 12 – boobs will do that to you. At that age, adult males made comments about my body and what they would like to do to it. Twelve. I wasn’t “asking for it,” I didn’t even know what “it” was. These men just said whatever they wanted because they could and who was going to stop them? And if they decided to act on the things they were saying, how was *I* going to stop them?

As a woman, I don’t just go for a walk any old time, any old place I want to. Imagine, if you’re a man, you want to take a walk. I can only assume that, like the men in my life, you just go. Maybe you grab your keys and put them in your pocket. If I go for a walk, I make sure it’s daylight and/or I don’t go alone. I let people know where I’m going and how long I think it will be before I get back. And I grab my keys, but I don’t put them in my pocket – I thread them through my fingers like Wolverine so I can at least attempt to defend myself if some jerk assaults me. I make sure I have my phone with me, not so I can check my Facebook feed, but so I can call 911 if I have to, and before cell phones, I (and every girl I knew) always kept a quarter on me in case I needed to use the payphone in a hurry.

Guys, how many cans of pepper spray have you purchased for yourself in your life? Do you buy pepper spray for yourself or do you buy it so the women you love can protect themselves from other men? Let’s be honest – we aren’t carrying pepper spray to make sure we get the best deals at the local Walmart on Black Friday. We’re not worried about roving packs of ravenous wild dogs or the zombie apocalypse. We aren’t planning to get revenge on Becky Ferguson who stole our pencil in 3rd grade. We carry pepper spray to protect ourselves from men.

Fellas, if you are raped or otherwise assaulted and you take it to the police, how many people do you think will believe you? Probably all of them? And how much of the blame will be attributed to your clothing? To your sobriety? To your poor decision to be outside alone? To your past history (whether you stole a pack of gum when you were 5, or how popular you were in high school, or whether you’ve had any traffic tickets)? Because as a woman, ALL of those things come into play and it is SUPER likely you will be disbelieved by many people and at least partially blamed by most of the rest (and god help us if we manage to successfully fight off an attacker and the fool dies…then we’re a murderer and HE is somehow the victim). It isn’t propaganda; it is how this system is rigged.

When you go buy clothes, do you wonder, “Hmmmm…is this too slutty? Will this get me unwanted attention?” only to look around you and see that EVERYTHING the store is even selling is basically too revealing because that’s how American styles work – you’re either half naked OR you’re covered up like Whistler’s Mother. There really isn’t much in-between, but as a woman, it doesn’t really matter what we wear anyway. We know that no matter what we have on, some guy is going to say/do something inappropriate because women don’t get to just be.

Unlike men, women cross the street to avoid construction sites or any other place where there is a gathering of men, because we aren’t allowed to just walk by without anyone commenting on how we look. Don’t tell me I’m making that up – groups of men get super obnoxious if there is a woman in the vicinity. Tell me I’m wrong. So, we put on headphones to listen to music and to blot out the unwanted advances of strange men (ironically, we’re told by rape prevention experts that wearing headphones makes us MORE likely to be raped because we can’t properly pay attention to our surroundings – did you know that? There are rape prevention experts. Wanna know why? Because the concept of don’t rape people is simply too far-fetched).

Now, I realize that for the nice guys out there, I’m preaching to the choir – but if you’re not checking your friends/relatives/random dudes for their bad behavior, you aren’t really helping ME out at all. And for the guys out there who see no problem with any of this, put yourself in a woman’s shoes – stop for a moment and imagine: some guy in prison or in a dark alley looking at you/talking to you/acting at you in the ways you behave toward women, maybe consider that to us, YOU are the creepy guy in your imagination.

And to you sell out women out there who are so worried about protecting your rape-y/harassing/groping/creepy menfolk, shame on you. If you don’t want your precious babies accused of wrong doing, teach them not to do wrong. Because “Not All Men” still doesn’t account for “ALL WOMEN,” since every single one of us has at very least been the subject of unwanted advances and too many of us DIE because “Too Many Men” don’t view us as actual people and “Not Enough Men or Women” stick up for what is right.

Oh, and in case I am not being clear – I’m not angry. I am seething.

Rooting for the Underdogs

I keep seeing random stories about different animals (cows, piglets, chickens) who’ve somehow managed to escape from slaughterhouses or trucks transporting them to slaughter, and subsequently I keep seeing a general “Hooray!” from all the folks who happen across the stories.

My question is this: if we’re all rooting for the rare underdog who escapes slaughter, WHY are so many people still eating these critters in the first place? I mean, CLEARLY people are happiest when the animal gets to be the superhero of the story.

It seems like a fair question.


To the troll of a “man” who showed up at a vegan festival and ate a raw steak dripping with blood…I’m not really sure why anyone is surprised. People who don’t care about or respect people cannot honestly be expected to care about or respect animals.

But…dude, you’re still an asshole. And by the way, get a haircut – this isn’t 1986 and you look like an idiot.

So, I frequently read/view stories and articles about animals who have been horribly abused – it’s not some idle fascination for me, it’s work. Looking over my shoulder  recently, someone asked me, “How can you stand to look at that sh*t?”

Well, the truth is, I can’t stand it. I hate it. I hate that we live in a world where some people perceive that some lives matter so little. Hate it. Abuse against all living beings sickens me, disheartens me, leaves me angry, and fills me with sorrow.

But if I don’t see it, if I don’t read about it, if I pretend to not KNOW about it, how can I be in any position to help?

Ignoring what’s ugly out there doesn’t make the ugliness disappear. Only knowledge,  effort, and an awful lot of love can do that.


So, while it might seem like an ultra-cool idea to take off, plan-less, across the US in a 38′ RV just for the fun of it, turns out that it’s SUPER tricky to find places to camp/sleep at night if you don’t plan ahead. You know, in case you find yourself in Waukesha, Milwaukee, Chicago, somewhere-in-Indiana, Cincinnati, somewhere in Kentucky…

On the up-side, I did get to dip my toes in the incredibly warm waters of Lake Michigan.


I’m on the cusp of a massive kitchen/dining room/master bedroom and bathroom remodel and something I’ve always known about myself is coming to even more glaring light – I’m a packrat-collector-of-things kind of crazy. Losing my mom and my grandparents and selling the second house in the country over the past 5-6 years means I ended up with a LOT more sh*t than I care to discuss with anyone and it’s all taking up lots of space in my house. THAT, my friends, is nuts. Granted, I don’t have obvious piles of anything laying around. No one needs to crawl around or over anything to move from room to room, either. I’m unlikely to be featured on an episode of Hoarders. What I do have, though, are cabinets and closets full to brimming with nonsense that I don’t necessarily love or use, but have talked myself into keeping.

I mean, as a vegan, do I really need 100+ cookbooks that also include recipes for meat? Do I really need 4 sets of china (I can keep my mom’s, but do I need the other 3)??? Do I need TWO KitchenAid stand mixers, just because I couldn’t make up my mind between creamcicle orange and fuchsia?? I mean, seriously? Does it make sense to stockpile Paul Mitchell products like he’s going to go out of business next week?

Plan to hear from me pretty regularly for the next 30 days, as I begin to unpack my life and declutter the madness that currently exists behind the many closed doors in my house. My guess is, it will be as much a mental and emotional journey as it is a physical road to less chaos.

Stop. Just…stop.

Stop blaming kids for school shootings, telling them it’s their fault/responsibility/whatever because they’re not nice enough to their peers. That kind of logic is what society keeps using against women for being abused or raped, too. Victim blaming is basically re-victimizing victims, people. And with that “they need to be nicer” logic, can someone explain to me Sandy Hook? Didn’t think so.

Stop saying all these shootings are caused by a lack of God in schools, because shootings happen in CHURCHES, too, and I’m pretty sure God has those joints covered. And hey, what about all the other shootings that happen nowhere near a school?

Stop saying that we should arm teachers – the lunch lady shouldn’t have to carry a Glock in her bra while she’s dishing up brownies and tater tots – especially since all the cops I see during these things seem to be taking cover outside behind their cars.

Stop telling children that CPR training would be a better tool for school violence than activism, because it’s absolutely ridiculous that grown-ass people think it makes more sense to triage bullet-ridden bodies than to preemptively strike against violence in the first place. (don’t even get me started on the school whose idea it was to arm children with ROCKS against guns – I could honestly puke at the stupidity of humanity)

It is absolutely pathetic that we, as a country, are pretending that these shootings are just freak accidents and not perpetrated largely by a specific group of individuals (you all know who they are, and it’s so obvious I won’t even call them out, other than to say, “How nice it must be to be born with such privilege, that if anything at all doesn’t go exactly your way, you feel it’s your birthright to decide other people no longer deserve to live.”)

So stop – stop making these kids the problem and start figuring out how we protect them from being shot in school or anywhere else. My 6 year old granddaughter shouldn’t have to hide under a desk and “play the silence game” at school so some random cretin doesn’t hear her crying and shoot her when all she’s trying to do is live long enough to grow up.

Today is March 14, a day where kids across the nation are walking out of schools to protest gun violence and where adults are calling bullshit because apparently kids don’t get a say when they’re the ones being shot. I, for one, stand in awe of these kids for sticking up for themselves and each other – the only time anything that matters changes is when enough people say, “This is crap, we’re done, fix it.”

It’s sickening that ADULTS are sending death threats to CHILDREN protesting their own massacres. It’s sickening that POLITICIANS (who I can’t bring myself to call adults, generally) are doing their best to discredit these kids like they aren’t all secretly scared sh*tless that every one of these kids will be voters within the next 4 years. In my experience, teenagers hold grudges for a really long time… like, forevah.


Kids – so many of the grownups have your backs and we’re so proud of you. WELL DONE for speaking up about something that really matters. Great job for organizing and speaking in a way so as to make many voices ONE voice. Seriously, way to step up! Keep making yourselves a nuisance, because it’s truly the only way to be heard. And come fall, when you’re old enough, get your butts out there and VOTE.

Be a nuisance when it counts. Do your part to inform and stimulate the public to join your action. Be depressed, discouraged, and disappointed at failure and the disheartening effects of ignorance, greed, corruption, and bad politics – but never give up.”   —Marjory Stoneman Douglas

A title escapes me.

I’m sure you’ve noticed the recent ranty-ness of my posts, and I would like to apologize…apologize-ish. Clearly there is all sorts of unrest is at play, and I can’t change that so I vent here. For everyone and their brother to see. *sigh* Whatever, moving along – nothing to see here. 🙂

Today, let’s focus on what is right and good with the day. Yoga is still proving to be both calming and a challenge (both excellent things). Meditation is still proving to be mostly a challenge. I know that practice makes perfect, but man, shutting my brain up seems so difficult, even after working at this daily for almost a year now. The rest of the “things,” handsful of vitamins and supplements, guzzling filtered water, eating primarily raw foods (primarily vegetables) , getting enough sleep – those things have seemed simple for quite some time, though I still hate cleaning the juicer filter! Someone told me to treat cleaning the filter as though it’s a mini-meditation, but you’ve all just heard how meditation is going for me.

I made the decision about a month ago to stop dying my hair. It’s toxic, I don’t have that many grays (yet), and really, it’s toxic. Toxic. That’s reason enough. Worst case scenario, I’ll have some sort of existential crisis one day and delve back into the seedy underbelly of tinted locks, but for now I’m going to ride out the waves of vanity and see where that takes me. I have officially phased out any and all household cleaning products that aren’t labeled cruelty free and non-toxic, and all of my makeup is finally vegan and natural (“natural,” it turns out though, has varying degrees of “not that bad for you, anyway” incorporated into the adjective).

So yeah, that’s where I’m at right now. Trying to adhere to my now-strict protocol of not watching the news, not peeking at Facebook (which I only do after disasters so I can be mad about “thoughts and prayers,” apparently), and making sure I hold on to any remnants of hope and sanity I can in these troubling times.

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