Watching Kamala D. Harris, Vice President of The United States of America, stand head-high in front of an entire nation sure in the knowledge that she, a whole-ass woman, deserved to be there cemented in me the determination to never again accept my personality or identity as justification for being taken less than seriously.
. . . this doesn’t have to be the year that I “begin the rest of my life”. But the feeling persists, so I’ve decided to start small — When I grow up I want to be a morning person. And that’s something I can start working towards now.
… I know that middle-school-grace could never comprehend the subtlety of the awkwardness that I experience as a baby-adult. Honestly, realizing that made me start to actually feel like the adult in that room.
These days I’m dressing for one event and one event only: The Crosswalk Catwalk. Imagine, if you will, rush hour traffic being brought to a standstill. And me strutting the fuck out of that six lane runway.
Well, I moved! To San Francisco! But I’m back now, and I have lots of thoughts about the direction I want to take this project.
I don’t have the right words for this moment. So instead, I’m offering you soothing plant photos, and a short discussion of tragedy.
I have tried to write this article so many times… I have sung the National Anthem for years, and I always get asked about people kneeling… Please, kneel for the anthem. Protest is necessary.
