Author: Darlene Mitchell

12 Things That Make Me Smile

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12 Things That Make Me Smile

12 Things That Make Me Smile

By D. S. Mitchell

Welcome to Calamity News and Politics. Calamity is currently based in Southern Oregon, in beautiful Grants Pass.  CNP attempts to present relevant and engaging political commentary, opinion, argument, speculation, and prediction regarding the political news in the United States. CNP also comments on health, wellness, fitness, silliness, games, and just about anything that tickles our panties. Once a month, or so, I do a post entitled “Things That Make Me Smile.” The number of items that make me smile usually change with each individual post.  No reason, just because I can, I guess.

So, take your mind off of politics and policies, including your grandmother losing her Medicaid, you losing your SNAP benefits, the Russian attack on NATO ally, Poland, the total and complete destruction of Gaza by Israel. the attacks by Israel on our ally, Qatar, and try if possible, to focus on the good things in your life.

Today I’m going to keep it short, here are 12 Things That Make Me Smile, how about you?

1.) Being on time.

2.) Daddy’s old work bench.

3.) Blackened hot dogs. Yum, yum.

4.) Talking to my plants.

5.) Living in a vacation town, during the off season.

6.) Slow dancing with him.

7.)  Pizza with a crispy paper thin crust.

8.) Wild strawberries peeking up in the flowerbeds.

9.) Fish On!

10.) Following estate sale signs.

11.) Putting pennies in a jar and watching them grow into dollars.

12.) Watching couples walk hand in hand.

The corruption and scandal in the Trump Administration is going to be around for a longer time than I would ever want, so think of your own 12 things that make you smile, because its gonna be a rough next three years plus years.

Call your congress person, write letters to the editor commenting on Trump policies, start a blog or a podcast, and hit the streets and protest. The next big rally is supposed to be on October 18, 2025. Watch for more information. Come out and protest, ‘No Kings,’ and let’s give our Dictator in Waiting, 10 million middle fingers. Join the New Resistance.

**If anyone is curious the picture accompanying this post is not me, but rather a lovely AI rendering of an imaginary woman.

9/11 2001

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9/11 2001

9/11 2001

 

By D.S. Mitchell

It was 2001 and I was an RN working at the Portland, Oregon VA Medical Center on the Telemetry Unit.  It was about 9:00 and I was finishing up the morning med pass for my patients. Most of the rooms were two man units. The guys in Room 206 were still eating breakfast and watching the morning news. As I handed the pills to one of my guys I looked up to the wall mounted TV just as a mammoth 767 jet plowed into the World Trade Center’s South Tower. “Holy shit!” our echoed commentary. Both my patients said it was probably “homegrown terrorism.” “Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t turn out to be another disgruntled vet-another Timothy McVeigh,” both insisted. At first I thought they were teasing, trying to get a rise out of me. But as they continued, I realized they were in no way joking.

The thought that this could have been perpetrated by a group of disgruntled U.S. veteran’s was both disturbing and heartbreaking. Yet, these two Vietnam veterans were both as serious as hell. I couldn’t understand the Timothy McVeigh bombing in the first place. Why would he kill nearly two hundred of his fellow countrymen? Mad at the government? Ok, but to kill innocent kids and others is just plain madness. I couldn’t understand how these two seemingly mentally stable individuals could even understand McVeigh’s rage.

The 9/11 airline hijackings and subsequent suicide attacks were not homegrown terrorism, as both my patients had insisted, but were rather 19 militants associated with the Islamic extremists group al-Qaeda. In final count, 2,750 died in N.Y., 184 at the Pentagon in D.C., 40 in Pennsylvania. Also, all 19 terrorists died. Police and fire departments in New York were hard hit, with more than 400 police officers and firefighters being killed.

After the tragic destruction of the World Trade Center on 9/11 2001 a  new complex was built. Several towers, a 9/11 memorial and a museum and a transit hub were built on the site. While the new complex doesn’t replicate the original twin towers, it serves as a place of healing and remembrance.  

Remembering 9/11 is important. Not just for the lives lost that day, but remembering the mistakes our government made-before and after-is just as important as remembering the attack.

Don’t You Remember?

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Don’t You Remember ?

Don’t You Remember ?

 

By Cate Rees-Hessel

 

I loved the break out hit when the band originally known as Jefferson Airplane became Starship – we are musically reminded “We Built This City on Rock and Roll.” Jefferson anything brings on music that I love and that song is my favorite of theirs. This brings me to another thought regarding memory, as we remember a very dark twenty-four years ago. “Don’t you remember” we built this nation on democracy and toil, not dictatorship and racism.

“Don’t you remember” the first term of Donald Trump? As a college student in 1985, I danced on my chair at the Pittsburgh PA Civic Arena to the tunes of Starship and Night Ranger, full of hope for the future despite the fact Geraldine Ferraro would not be our first female Vice President on the Mondale-Ferraro ticket. I loved this intelligent, beautiful, and Godly woman. Disappointed they lost the election, but still I knew in my heart we one day would have a female in office. Then another major and frightening disappointment when Hillary Clinton lost to an incompetent and delusional opponent.

Hope was restored after Trump’s disastrous first term, when President Joe Biden brought us our first female VP,  the intelligent, kind but tough, beautiful Kamala Harris. I cried for twenty minutes after she proudly said “…so help me God” – the glass ceiling was finally broken and we were never going back. My heart broke when President Biden bowed out of the 2024 election, but right here in Chicago, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz accepted the Democratic nomination. A winning team and our first female president, finally. Then the unthinkable occurred – without all the votes counted, it was announced that Donald Trump, the most incompetent non-president to ever hold office, had been re-elected.

“Don’t you remember” Trump’s horrific first term, with millions dead from the COVID pandemic? “We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll…” We built this country on honesty and broke away from a king in 1776 – there is no king of America. “Say you don’t know me or recognize my face” – well, remember my face and my words, because I will not be silenced by a dictator. “Say you don’t care who goes to that kind of place” –  I care who goes into the White House, that’s for sure. “Knee deep in the hoopla, sinking in your fight” – we sure do need our hip waders dealing with the MAGA s..t, but we will not sink in our fight, not now, not ever. “Too many runaways eating up the night” – we won’t run, we face the night without fear.

“Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?” Our radios bring bad news each day, but when “The Donald” is finally impeached, we will dance the mamba in the streets and party ’til dawn. “We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll, built this city, we built this city on rock and roll”, not on hatred and toil. “Someone’s always playing corporation games, who cares they’re always changing corporation names“, while the GOP gives tax breaks to the biggest corporate structures, taking food and medicine away from those in need. “We just want to dance here, someone stole the stage, they call us irresponsible, write us off the page“, but we will never be written off, Mr. Trump, we will continue to resist.

“Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember? We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll…” Impeach the convicted felon before he does more damage, before more billionaires receive more tax breaks, before Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security cease to exist.

“We built, we built this city, yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city (Built this city)”

“Don’t you remember” when our nation was strong, proud, and a world leader, not a laughing stock? We just remember what we were and can be again, just as we must remember 9/11, when our nation gathered together in the face of hatred and terrorism; we survived and thrived. We can do it once again, as long as we remember that America is a democracy, a melting pot of humanity, built on the strength of our values, not the weakness of hatred. We built this country on morality, diversity, and hope.

“We built this city

We built this city on rock and roll

Built this city

We built this city on rock and roll

 

Say you don’t know me or recognize my face

Say you don’t care who goes to that kind of place

Knee deep in the hoopla, sinking in your fight

Too many runaways eating up the night

 

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

Someone’s always playing corporation games

Who cares, they’re always changing corporation names

We just want to dance here, someone stole the stage

They call us irresponsible, write us off the page

 

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

It’s just another Sunday in a tired old street

Police have got the choke hold, oh, then we just lost the beat

 

Who counts the money underneath the bar?

Who rides the wrecking ball into our guitars?

Don’t tell us you need us ’cause we’re the ship of fools

Looking for America, coming through your schools

 

Don’t you remember? (Remember)

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

We built, we built this city, yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city (Built this city)”

9/11, Remembered

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Remembering 9/11

Remembering 9/11

 

By John Curran

My first time ever in New York, I’d been there 13 days, n I’m already hooked up with Social Services. On this beautiful early Fall morning I was on Lafeyette Street at the food stamp offices, ostensibly to pick up my ID card. I signed in at 8:45. One minute later the first plane hit the North Tower. At that moment nobody, not even witnesses knew what was really going down. It wasn’t until the second plane….so, I’m just sitting there waiting to be called back to the window to get my card n then head back to the park and another day when this woman comes rushing in. She’s distraught, she says to me n the other guy sitting there, that a second plane had just hit the South Tower. I’ll never forget her words “It’s a disaster” Well, something now is up. I’m hearing the sirens starting up outside as by this time every fire house in Manhattan has been alerted and the units are rolling a mad rush down Second Avenue to the towers. And me, I still don’t know nothing only that this is taking too long. I go up to the window and the nice lady says,  “well you can wait or you can come back later.” She don’t know anything either of what’s happening but that is all fixing to change, real fast and I did not get my card that day. So, I leave, walk outside, and that’s when it was starting to register. Myself, I still did not know anything else, but to walk back over to Thompson Park the hangout. But as I’m walking I’m catching snatches of talk now, everybody come out now, n I hear someone talking about the damn hit and that you can see the building actually on fire from over on Third Street ‘n Second Avenue, the main one way going south, where all the fire trucks were now streaming full tilt and sirens blasting. And as this was not far from where I was, I figured I might as well have a look, what could it be? Well, what it was was that famous Time magazine cover photo live right before my eyes. Both buildings on fire and the city in the process of shutting down, for the most unforeseen damn thing that anybody had seen, maybe ever. And nobody that I know, had any idea that they weren’t yet seeing the half of this, that these buildings were actually going to completely collapse from the weight of all this;  maybe some structural planner somewhere might coulda figured it out, maybe. We were bewildered, New York would never be the same. I saw it for the first time in it’s saddest time, Lord have mercy, I love New York. That’s all I can say, right now.

Day Fires and the Power of Prayer

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The Day Fires and The Power of Prayer

The Day Fires and The Power of Prayer

 

By Karen Tate

 

Forest Dream

My entire life I dreamed of being able to have a home in a beautiful wooded area.  I admired the homes in the Big Bear area and the many rustic-looking homes on many of our vacation trips among the forests and mountains, but I never imagined I’d have one of my own.  I believed I was probably going to be an apartment dweller my entire life, but I secretly held on to the dream.

Believe in Roy

Then circumstances changed, as if by magic.  We were driving home from a vacation in the Grand Canyon, taking Route 66 back toward California, all the while mesmerized by these signs of land for sale.  Or I should say, my husband, Roy, was getting hooked on these carrots being dangled before the drivers on this lonely highway going through Arizona.  By the time we had reached Kingman, he convinced me to “just look”  at what was for sale.  Well, you’ve probably guessed the next twist of this tale.  Within a few hours we were the proud owners of 40 acres of land covered with juniper trees.  Roy was sure this property was going to turn into a good investment.  I was not so sure, but I tried to have a little faith in his intuition.

Continue reading

Worker’s Over Billionaires Protest

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Worker’s Over Billionaires Protest

Worker’s Over Billionaires Protest

“All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent.”                                                                                                                                                  

By David L. Shadrick

This was our fourth protest in a season of protests. As usual Darlene, Vajra, John, and myself parked ourselves on our favorite bench under our favorite shade tree on 6th Street, Grants Pass, Oregon, kitty corner from the county courthouse. The turnout for the Worker’s over Billionaires rally was good, but not great.

I can also report that the opposition turnout, in deep red southern Oregon, was close to microscopic. I counted two rabid Trumpers in the crowd; one flipped me off and the other one, a jogger, stopped in front of my wheelchair and called me a “horrible person” and then accelerated his pace and headed to the safety of 7th street. Other than than those two events things were cool. We got lots of positive comments on our signs, in fact several folks stopped to take a selfie with me.

INDIVISIBLE came through with a new stereo system for our rally. It was cool being able to actually hear the speakers and some great music.  John and Vajra wandered through the crowd checking things out; they told us about a group way up on the other side of the street out of our field of vision that were causing a ruckus. It seems they wanted to protest FOR pedophilia. Holy smokes, I can see why that might cause a fight or two. I suspect they were just a bunch of Trump supporters being A-holes, trying to stir up some shit.

Despite the smaller size of the Labor Day protest in our little town, I will admit that in Grants Pass it was very hot and there were a lot of folks out of town for the last week-end get-away before school started.  With that said, we need to increase the pressure on Trump and his allies. We need to tell ‘ol Donnie Boy we are not going to stand for his masked thugs disappearing people from American streets, putting billionaires on the government dole when poor Americans are having health care and even food benefits snatched away. This isn’t ‘effin Russia, yet.

If these protests are going to have the intended impact they need to be getting bigger and bigger not smaller.  In my mind, turnout is imperative to keeping Trump’s attention. We can’t weaken or tire now; we have another 3 and a 1/2 years of  the Trump despot show. We can’t give in, give up or surrender to this lawless president and his corrupt allies; our freedom is literally at stake.

**Quote by Edmund Burke

Shredding Documents

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Shredding Documents

Does It Really Matter?

Does It Really Matter? 

D. S. Mitchell

 

I was sitting in the doctor’s office reading an old Reader’s Digest article that offered advice on when and what to shred.  According to the 6 year old article our greatest danger is through ‘mass hackings’ of our credit information. No matter how cautious we are our greatest danger is as victims of other people’s carelessness, or bad intent.  Despite that, supposedly we should still take every precaution when dealing with the disposal of sensitive documents in an effort to keep our private information private.

Does any of this really make a difference? I don’t know. I feel like my entire life has already been reduced to 0’s and 1’s; especially since DOGE scoured the federal computers for every snippet of my life story. I think I’m like a lot of Americans. Not only am I feeling vulnerable, but I feel totally betrayed by Elon Musk, Donald Trump, the Supreme Court, in other words, by own government. Will the results of such personal intrusions just mean my spam increases or will it be more serious, leading to fraudulent bank loans and other nefarious activities.

With those opposing thoughts in mind here are the suggestions from the Reader’s Digest article:

Receipts: If you aren’t saving the receipt for taxes or other purposes and you made your purchase with a credit or debit card shred it. The receipt shows the last 4 digits of the card number and possibly your signature. Those clever crooks can use receipts for fraudulent returns and benefit from your store credit.

Prescription Labels: Sometimes they are stapled to the prescription bag or on the bottle. Labels frequently list your name, date of dispensing, name and strength of the drug and dispensing pharmacy.  Crooks can use the information to refill prescriptions or steal your identity.

Pet Medical Documents: Keep records of major events for the pets health history, but shred the rest.  The paperwork will show your name, address, phone and the pet’s name, which according to many studies to be the most common computer password choices.

Airline Boarding Passes: Shred after landing. The boarding pass will show your name, your itinerary, and a bar code that in some cases will show your frequent flier number, which would allow thieves to “log in to airline accounts to view upcoming travel plans, check in to flights, and even cancel trips.”

Return Labels: Shred free return labels that come in the mail and any envelopes showing your name and address. When writing a return address on an envelope omit your name. Identity thieves will use that information to collect more information from social media and piece together your identity.

 

Should I Get a Dog?

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I Want a Dog, But Should I Get a Dog?

 I Want a Dog, But Should I Get a Dog?

 

By D. S. Mitchell

 

That Damn Lily

My last dog was named Lily, she was a rescued dog. She came to my home when she was about two years old and full of personality.  She had a habit of arguing with me when I would give commands,  “Sit, Lily” would be followed by a straight on eye ball to eye ball period of audible grumbling before following the order. “To your house, Lily,” garnered the same stare me down look and grumbling response, before heading to her bed.   But she was the first to notice when I was sad or depressed, and would hurry to comfort me.  She was the first to notice when something was amiss and would quickly draw my attention to her concern. She never got on the furniture, she apparently was smarter than that; I don’t even sit on the furniture. She was always ready for a walk or any kind of activity, especially a car ride. Yippee!

Memorable Events

Her most memorable nonsense was the day she wrapped her leash around both my legs and brought me down hard on a sand dune at Sunset Beach, Oregon, just out front of my house. Turns out that little stunt fractured my pelvis, causing me to spend the next 2 months hobbling around like a 90 year old with a borrowed walker; you know the kind with the tennis balls on the two back struts.

Her second most memorable stunt was when she ( we were living in Astoria, Oregon at the time) jumped out the second story window of my three story Victorian house on Flavel Street, and took off. WTF. I mean this dog jumped from the second floor window; why? because the damn window was open?  Holy moly. I was at a total loss. Screaming and literally pulling at my hair. Why would she pull such a bull shit stunt. After she bailed out the window, landing quite athletically on the street below,  I watched her head up the hill as if she had a destination in mind. So, I of course, called the Astoria Police Department and told them my dog was missing. I gave the nice lady taking the report Lily’s description. The woman told me she would call me if Lily turned up. Well….less than five minutes later that nice police lady called back and said she thought she had found my dog.

Thank God

‘Thank God,” my response.

The sweet lady laughed and said, “You better get over to Astoria High School. Apparently, your brindle boxer just broke up the first band concert of the year.”

“Broke up the first band concert of the year?” I painfully repeated.

“According to the report, your pooch interrupted the concert, sending both audience and band members scurrying.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned.

Loving Kids

I grabbed my side kick, Dave, who was hanging out at the house, and we headed over the hill to Astoria High School. The rig had barely come to a stop when the two of us hit the ground running.  Dave was about 20  feet out front of me when we found the center of chaos and Lily was right in the middle of it. Several of the students were joyfully pursuing Lily, but she was quick and was darting in and out from behind one obstacle after another.  It was obvious she was having a hell of a good time with the kids. She loved kids.

I shouted, “Halt!” and to everyone’s surprise she did just that. She of course, grumbled and disputed my dominance, but she stopped and held her position.

I pulled out a  piece of chicken I had stashed in my pocket, for just such a situation, and promised Lily it was all hers if she’d just let me attach the leash to her ‘effin collar.  Once the agreement was struck, I hooked up the leash to the collar and Lily and I headed down the hall to the main entrance with Lily munching on last night’s chicken breast and me leading the crazy bitch to the SUV. Dave, followed close behind and hopped in the car and the three of us headed home. The next day there was a front page story in the Daily Astorian, with pictures of  Lily’s night of disruption at Astoria High School.  In the end, it was a good laugh for all.

So Why Do I Want a Dog?

Sometimes we, are not in the right place, time-wise, geographically, or emotionally to bring a new friend laden with responsibilities into our lives. It broke my heart when I had to euthanize Lily at around 12 years of age. She had thyroid cancer and was miserable with pain and I couldn’t watch her suffering any longer. It’s been five years since her death and I’m feeling the pain of being dog-less. I definitely do not want a puppy. I’m thinking elder dog for elder owner.

The time commitment required for a new puppy is more than I can take on. Before I start looking for my new companion I know I need to make sure that I have the time and the energy required to make the daily commitment to my new best buddy. Puppies will need to go out every hour until they are house trained. That means a commitment of no less than two hours daily for play, exercise, socialization and stimulation. Additionally, puppies because they are rapidly growing, need to be fed and watered three times a day. I know I can’t do that. Continue reading

I Can Hear Her Breathing

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I Can Hear Her Breathing

I Can Hear Her Breathing

By Karen Tate

 

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way.  On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” – Arundhati Roy

 

When I read that quote for the first time, the breath caught in my throat and the hair stood up on the back of my neck as I remembered….

I had been invited to Wisconsin to present at a weekend workshop which turned out to be a more than wonderful experience.  I went thinking I was just going up there to teach women the workshop material, but the sharing and activities I participated in were a beautifully reciprocal dance.  Besides the bonding and the fun, issues I had never quite been able to banish from my psyche had dispersed in the safety of the ritual the night before and I was feeling light and open and gloriously happy and fulfilled.

As the weekend came to a close and the time to drive back to the airport was drawing near, I grabbed a few moments of solitary time behind the dormitory where we were staying located about 100 yards off serene and shining Lake Michigan.  Between the lake and the dorm, trees had been planted in a circle, with barely two to three feet of space between their trunks, and inside the circle was a bench.  I was drawn within the circle desiring a few moments of quiet contemplation in what felt like Nature’s embrace.

As I sat there, enjoying a cool breeze on my cheeks, glimpsing the reflection of the sun on the lake between the tree trunks before me, I suddenly realized I heard a rhythmic breathing.  In and out.  In and out.  Where was it coming from?  In my mind, I began a process of elimination.  I held my own breath for a few moments thinking perhaps here in this small space among this odd configuration of trees I was hearing the echo of my own breath, but no, it wasn’t me.  I looked around to make sure there was no one else there, perhaps just beyond my initial line of light.  No.

I wasn’t hearing the incoming tide of the lake.  I sat there mesmerized as I listened.   No, this sound was coming from this very spot where I sat.  Dare I even utter the next thoughts that crossed my mind?  In this circle of trees, it was as if  I were sitting within the body of Goddess and I was hearing Her breathing  This was incredulous, but I was going to go with it and  just listen, feel, and  receive. I soaked in the magic of this sacred place.  The hair stood up on back my neck and arms.  I felt that familiar cold chill up my spine and my tears turned into sobs of joy.  What an emotional experience!

In hindsight, many of us might speak in metaphor, as perhaps the novelist and activist Arundhati Roy is speaking above, about Gaia or the coming new paradigm of the Sacred Feminine, but this was different.  This experience went beyond metaphor or even feeling inspired in some natural landscape.  This wasn’t merely equating the ebb and flow of the ocean tides with Her breath as we attempt to personify Her and embrace Her mysteries.  This felt as if it were another phenomena of a dimension I had yet to experience.  Was I crazy to even contemplate hearing the inhaling and exhaling…..of our Mother?  Well, sometimes we just have to shut off that left-brain and just feel Her incredible gifts!  Those few minutes sitting in that sacred grove near that beautiful lake will no doubt be some of the most profound and magical minutes of my life.   Thank you, Mother.  Thank you for that precious gift… I can hear you breathing!

How to be a Feminine Feminist

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How to be a Feminine Feminist

How to be a Feminine Feminist

Editor: I love it.

 

By Cate Rees-Hessel

 

I have always been both a girly girl and staunch feminist – a true Elle Woods, from Legally Blonde fame. Below are a few ways to embrace your inner princess without sacrificing your feminist being:

  1. Wear something pearl everyday for Kamala, the woman who should be President.
  2. Read anything written by Gloria Steinem while getting a pedicure.
  3. Suggest a showing of “Legally Blonde” at your local library (next year is the 25th anniversary…).
  4. Invite friends over to watch the “Barbie” movie and everybody wear pink.
  5. Show your Ken some affection and I don’t mean the doll.
  6. Run for office wearing pretty dresses and, if you can walk in them, a pair of Prada pumps.
  7. Always look your best – when you feel confident you are taken seriously.
  8. Remain well groomed at all times.
  9. Encourage other ladies – call each other beautiful, sexy, and sisters.
  10. Know beauty comes from within.
  11. Recognize beauty comes in all shapes, colors, sizes, ages, and ethnicities.
  12. Don’t go after someone else’s significant other – if you can’t keep a love interest, ask yourself why.
  13. A blush and quiet giggle are okay if followed by an intelligent wisecrack.
  14. Never belch or pass gas in public – you don’t have to be rude to sit at the boys table.
  15. Turn the boys table into the women’s table with your intelligence and wit.
  16. If the guys don’t give you a seat at the table, follow the wisdom of the immortal Shirley Chisolm and bring a folding chair (mine is pink).
  17. Nail biters most often don’t win – keep them groomed.
  18. Take a bubble bath while reading law journals.
  19. Remember Adam and Eve both disobeyed God, not just Eve. As a favorite comic of mine would say, “Where’s the dude?”
  20. Channel Geraldine Ferraro.
  21. Watch “Clueless” in celebration of its 30th anniversary – “as if” Trump actually won the election. “My bad” NOT, because I didn’t vote for “The Donald” – I proudly voted Harris-Walz.
  22. Volunteer for a female candidate’s campaign, as long as they’re not a Trump supporter.
  23. Host a tea for a feminist organization, serving cucumber cream cheese sandwiches and lemon scones on floral china.
  24. Never let them see you sweat – hide your tears from those that mean you harm.
  25. Watch a WNBA game.
  26. Join NOW and campaign for girls and women in sports – go to bat for them.
  27. Be a Ms. even if you’re a Miss or a Mrs.
  28. Stand up for yourself and other women – it’s all about internal sisterhood.
  29. God gave us emotions – they are normal. Don’t be afraid to show them, but don’t let anyone use them against you.
  30. Buy some bad ass lipstick and earrings.
  31. Accessorize and put your pretty game face on.
  32. Dance like everyone is watching.
  33. Drink a mocha latte.
  34. Get a facial or do one at home.
  35. Go to a thrift store for some retail therapy and look for some vintage issues of MS magazine, Vogue, Elle, and Glamour, then do a reading swap with friends.
  36. Read “Whiskey in a Teacup” by Reese Witherspoon.
  37. Have a Reese Witherspoon movie marathon and include both “Legally Blonde’s.
  38. Watch reruns of “That Girl” because Marlo Thomas is an empowered feminist.
  39. Watch reruns of “Murder She Wrote” because J.B. Fletcher was a well-dressed, well-mannered bad ass.
  40. Campaign for Kamala Harris to take her rightful place in the Oval Office in 2028.