“Can a Woman Be Elected President?” How is this Even a Question?

At the moment, everyone I happen to know is discussing the democratic candidates, in person and all over social media. This is the first time we’ve had multiple women running in the primaries,  which is exciting to many of us, but it boggles the mind if we are calling ourselves a modern country. How have women been kept out of that job for so long? “The Patriarchy” is the usual response to that question. That enemy.. “The patriarchy’” is familiar. We know we have to struggle against male power to have our voices heard, or to maintain our rights. But what about the women who join the men to oppress other women? Why do they do that, and how do we make them understand that they have the power to help us change things to benefit all of us, including them? 

From what I understand,  47% of white women voted for Donald Trump. This was after he made fun of handicapped people, talked about ‘grabbing pussies ‘and was accused of sexual assault. Not to mention all the times he was hateful, racist or downright stupid on twitter or in a comment he made about something.  Yet, multiple times this week, I have seen women saying they agree with Democratic candidate Elizabeth Warren’s policies, but they won’t vote for her because she is too ‘aggressive’ or ‘brash’. I’ve heard similar statements about Kamala Harris.  

Wait.. isn’t being assertive and strong kind of a requirement for leading a country?  All of the assertive and confident men who have been president were chosen partly because they possess those qualities, but  when the same tone is coming from a woman, it is ‘brash’. Would they seem like good leaders if they came across soft spoken and submissive?  I feel like they would simply be dismissed, as we have seen happen to others before them. This discussion is not limited to my social media pages. A New York Times article just last was focused on the question, “Do you really think a woman could be elected president?” 

How is this still a question in this country? Why are we not ready for this when all across Europe, women have been leaders for decades? Even countries like India, Pakistan, Indonesia and many other parts of the world reached this milestone long ago. What is our problem with this, and why do even women join in keeping this progress from happening? 

 I don’t think the negative responses to female candidates is always a conscious one.  I think this is deeply imbedded, learned thinking, trained into us since childhood to keep women in their place as second class citizens. 

When I was seven, a boy pushed me down on the playground because I wouldn’t let him kiss me.  I got up and pushed him back and a female teacher saw the exchange and instead of asking what happened, she scolded me for fighting, because girls are not supposed to fight. I then got a number of disapproving looks from other girls, who seemed to already know this rule. I don’t remember if the teacher said anything to the boy, but I do remember feeling very ashamed and betrayed,  and learning at that moment that I had to control myself more than a boy did. This was often reinforced in my own house when it came to myself and my brother, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that it applied elsewhere, as well. 

In fifth grade, two kids in my class both acted up in the same week. One was a boy named Moses, who was always acting up, and the other was a girl named Loretta. Time and time again, the female teacher mildly scolded Moses for his constant antics, but when Loretta acted up one time, she was spanked with a paddle in front of the class. We all learned that acting out was not tolerated when a girl did it the same as when a boy did. By age 11, other women had firmly taught me that girls were held to a different standard than boys. 

There are all kinds of ways society’s expectations divide women from other women. Recently, I decided to chime in on a conversation about a Netflix show that people were talking about called ‘Insatiable’, in which an overweight girl’s life changes when an accident forces her on a liquid diet, and she ends up a skinny beauty queen. The discussion was mostly about whether it was politically correct to make it clear that the girl’s life is better after she loses weight, instead of just accepting herself as she is. I didn’t chime in until the quality of the work was being discussed, and then I said ‘I watched it, and I thought the writing was over the top and a little ridiculous.” I was immediately shut down by a woman acquaintance who said ‘your opinion isn’t really relevant.  You’ve never had a weight problem.” She was supported almost immediately by another woman.  

There were men involved in that conversation, and nobody shut them down.  They were allowed to have all kinds of opinions on women and their body acceptance, as well as on the quality of the show, but I was the enemy when I spoke, because I was perceived as a woman who didn’t understand being in that particular group of marginalized women, and therefore, I had to be shut down.  This kind of micro-aggression from women to other women happens all the time in everyday life. It is just one more division we’ve created ourselves by our society’s expectations of us. 

As I pondered of these women who shut down other women, I was reminded of Jocelyn,  who briefly dated a friend of mine when I was in my 20’s. She was new to our area and didn’t know anyone, and came into our group of friends because she was dating one of the guys that hung out with us. She wore a lot of makeup and sexy clothes all the time, even when we went for picnics in the park. She obviously spent a lot of time and money on her looks. She would literally ignore the other girls when we all hung out together. I actually saw her turn her head away and pretend she didn’t hear when another young woman asked her a question in an attempt to include her in a conversation. She only talked to the men, and hung on their every word.  We all figured out quickly what she was about, and we just stopped trying. We didn’t invite her to ‘ladies only’ events, but bashed her whenever we got together. When the guy broke up with her, she had nobody. I felt a little bad for her, because that is a time when you rely on your girlfriends for emotional support, and none of us wanted anything to do with her. One of the other men might have slept with her once, but the rest of them forgot about her the minute their friend tossed her aside, and I don’t even know what happened to her. At the next girl’s night, we all collectively decided she got what she deserved . I do wonder if she learned from it, or if she spent her life feeling like she was only valued for what men saw in her. I hope she learned. 

 Now, I see her kind everywhere I look, and I think I understand that deep down, they are just afraid of not being on the winning side. Aligning themselves with men is safe. Fighting against the patriarchy by supporting other women is risky. Dismissing them and writing them off like my friends and I did to that sexpot years ago is not going to fix anything. We have to show them how to empower and value themselves first, and then they will have the confidence to empower other women. 

We have been divided by our patriarchal society. In the NY Times article, people were worried mostly about whether a woman ‘could win’ and they didn’t want to waste their votes.  The people I see on social media seem to be afraid of voting for a woman who doesn’t follow the rules of how a woman should come across personally. That insecurity is further dividing us. Nobody is asking you to invite Elizabeth Warren or Kamala Harris to dinner at your house or to your girls’ night happy hour, although I totally would invite them myself. We have to think about whether those ‘aggressive’ and ‘outspoken’ qualities that we might shy away from in a friend are strong qualities for a leader. If you really disagree with their politics, then don’t vote for them. All I’m saying is, judge them as leaders with the same gauge as you would judge a man, and maybe one of them can have a chance to answer that question, ‘“Do you really think a woman could be elected president?” 

— Jennifer Decker



I recently found a picture of myself and my step-sister from when we were about 6. She’s dark and taller with long, stick straight hair. I’m fair and small with honey-brown curls. The photo is innocent; two smiling girls dressed up for church, holding dolls we’d gotten for Christmas that were meant to look like us, except the boxes apparently got switched and she holds one with light brown curls, and mine sports a dark, silky mane. I was happy with that doll. I liked her hair better.

When I came across the photo 40 years later, I had a sharp moment of surprise. Is that what we looked like? Surely I was plainer, more awkward… and my hair was wild,  like the head of Medusa; out of control and  horrible. According to my mental database, she should  certainly be more beautiful; poised and airbrushed like a film star. Neither is true. We both look like cute, ordinary little girls. Why is my memory so different from this photo?

My mother married this girl’s father shortly before this photo was taken. My own parents had divorced when I was two, and I really have no memory of living with both of them. When this new ‘Dad’ arrived on the scene, I remember being curious and a little excited to have a dad that actually lived with us.  He was nice to me at the beginning. I always thought it was because he just didn’t know me yet, and after he got to know me, he realized what a bad child I was and changed his mind. Years later, I realized he was nice because he was still trying to seduce my mother, and once he had her, he didn’t have to pretend anymore. Years of self-therapy, and analyzing  him as a human person instead of the God of all that was correct has made me understand intellectually that none of his fury towards me was really about me. He was just a product of his own abusive childhood, but knowing that intellectually doesn’t completely eliminate the dark little cloud he left on my soul after living for 10 years with him.  For the most part, I’ve gotten over the most obvious damage he left in his wake, but my feelings when I look at this photo make me realize there is one thing about myself that is embedded in my psyche as a representation of all that is bad about me: my hair.

My entire life with this ‘father’  was a harsh lesson in survival. He was moody and often violent, and the threat of a swinging belt was enough to make everyone in the house walk on eggshells. For a child who was naturally creative, and had spent 5 years of her life being mostly adored by female relatives,  it was a sharp change in situation to realize that my existence seemed to be a problem. Anything I did or said was usually wrong. Any comment I contributed to a conversation might be called out as ‘stupid’. I was always too loud or in the way. Eventually, I became a bit reclusive at home, preferring to spend my time in my room alone with my records and books, but then I was often criticized for not participating.  I learned early on to adjust my behavior at the drop of a hat to avoid conflict. However, one thing I couldn’t change was my hair. It was a constant source of  conflict. My hair is fine and curly and easily windblown. My stepfather’s daughter, who would visit on holidays and in the summer, had straight, glossy hair that grew out of her head naturally that way and fell back into place after the wind had its way with it. In spite of constantly being pitted against each other with this comparison (and others that didn’t stick in my mind quite so sharply),  we were friends when left to our own devices. We would play outside in the wind together, running and jumping and climbing trees with the happy, carefree joy that comes with youth and companionship. However, when we came inside after a summer’s day of sweaty play, I was always shocked back into the reality of my life by the nasty comments I got for looking like a ‘mess’, a ‘wild animal’, an ungroomed ‘heathen’-   the very definition of what a girl should not be. She had not done anything differently than I had. It was just a fundamental flaw in my genetic makeup that made me so  terrible, and he would  pick at me about it, berate my mother for not making me be more feminine and threaten to chop it off so I could look like the boy I obviously wanted to be. A couple of times he even snatched up a brush and roughly yanked it through my tangled hair, practically pulling it out in his fury at my disobedience in letting my hair get into such a state.

In my research to adjust my thoughts about myself, I’ve read that a male role model in a girl’s life is essential. Unconditional love from a man is connected to self esteem, and the relationship is supposed to teach us what we are looking for in a partner later in life.  The entire time this messed up push and pull was going on, all I wanted was to be able to do anything to make this man approve of me, even if I couldn’t inspire actual love. I concluded that the fact that it never happened was because I was just basically unloveable, and this conclusion has colored every relationship with a man I’ve ever had.  I go in feeling optimistic and healthy, and run away the minute that messy haired little girl is resurrected by a comment or a behavior from the other person that pulls her back to the surface.  After all, I’ve spent my whole life keeping my hair under control so I can deserve being loved. I have spent countless hours flat ironing it, squandered my money on smoothing products, straightening serums and hairspray. I’ve avoided pool parties, picnics on humid days and swimming in the ocean. I can’t have that little girl ruining everything by sticking her crazy Medusa head in and showing everyone what I mess I really am.

I look back at the photo and I realize that even though my step-sister also got the wrong doll, she was perfectly happy to keep the one with the curly hair, just as I was happy to have the sleek one. Though we’ve lost touch, mostly because of my own bitter feelings about that time in my life, I wonder if she had her own unhappiness that I didn’t see because I was so wrapped up in mine. To me, it looked like she was perfect, but I’m sure the whole situation affected her too. I think she loved me, and she shouldn’t feel bad for having the right hair. I’m ok now, and it’s all under control most of the time. Sometimes it rains, and I lose my grip on it temporarily, but now I just pull it back in a ponytail, put on a hat and move on.

by Jennifer Decker, 2017.


Elizabeth A.M. Keel, The Fabulous!

For the November 2019 installment of the ‘Fabulous people I have the privilege of knowing’ series, I would like to tell you about Elizabeth A. M. Keel! 


Courtesy of Elizabeth A.M. Keel

Elizabeth is one of the most multi-talented people I’ve ever met. I knew her first as a playwright who had studied with Edward Albee and Lanford Wilson at University of Houston. In 2010, the theatre I founded, Mildred’s Umbrella, produced her play ‘Notions of Right and Wrong’. She was involved in the process of it, so we got to know each other in that capacity a bit.

A couple of years later, we acted together in ‘Five Women Wearing the Same Dress.’ So, yeah.. She can do that, too, and afterwards, she offered to write a play specifically for Mildred’s Umbrella, which you can catch in the spring at the DeLuxe theatre (details at mildredsumbrella.com ).  Her work has also been produced by several other theatres in Houston and beyond.

Since our original meeting, I discovered that she is not only a playwright and an actor, but also an accomplished dramaturg, a fabulous teacher, a director and even a novelist!

Recently, she has become the literary manager  and resident playwright for our company, and I’ve discovered that not only is she artistically talented, but also organized, reliable and someone I can trust to get a job done if she says she’s going to do it. Do you even know how rare that is? She’s like a freakin’ unicorn. 

Stages Repertory Theatre – Young Actors Conservatory 2019

All of this…. and the cherry on the top of her wonderfulness is that she is one of the most photogenic people I’ve ever seen. There is never a bad photo of this woman. 


If you want to know more about her, you can read all the stuff here. Her accomplishments are endless: elizabethamkeel.com.

I just wanted to tell everyone about her! 


On being inclusive

We all know what it feels like to be left out. It happens to me all the time, especially since social media was invented. In the old days, you might find out about things you weren’t invited to, but it was usually after the fact, and though it might sting just a bit, you didn’t have it rubbed in your face by people posting photos online, sometimes in real time, of whatever you were excluded from. I guess I’m not really left out any more than I used to be, but it feels like more when I can see everyone posting about everything they are doing constantly. 

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It feels good to be included

 Recently, I read this article, and I was forced to remember that  I’m not alone to feel like this. Almost everyone probably feels this way from time to time. 

HERE IS THE ARTICLE: https://faithit.com/build-u-instead-circle-amy-weatherly/?fbclid=IwAR2C_jX4Xis0CpetGoWmwCR5N-jv0LTd4xFuFYI1Q3lmzA3KiJivOMOsmbA

 It’s hard not to take it personally when everyone you know is invited to a wedding, and you weren’t. Or when you see close friends posting pictures of their group outings and you weren’t included. Or when you see some industry related event happening that you weren’t invited to. It hurts, and it makes you feel very isolated if you dwell on it. When I’ve reflected on those moments after the hurt wore off, I had to realize that I’ve probably made someone feel that way too without even knowing it, and that makes me feel even worse than being left out myself. It also teaches me to forgive the people who didn’t think of me.  

It is important to remember that sometimes you are one of the people in those photos.

My nature is to try to include everyone, and this has sometimes caused me trouble, to be honest. 

One issue I’ve had is that many people think that if you are a leader who is open to sharing the glory, treating people as equals and giving others a chance to shine, it means you are not confident or strong, and therefore not deserving of respect. If you don’t hold self promotion above collaboration, you must be a hack. 

People who are good at self promotion are able to put themselves on a pedestal and therefore require others to see them that way. I am in awe of this, and have always wanted to be that way, but never have the ability to pull it off.  Recently, a friend of mine who is very good at self promotion and maintaining respect as a leader told me that she thinks people don’t like her, and that I should be happy that so many people like me and that I’m popular. I was like.. “What?? I  thought YOU were popular! Everyone respects you!” I guess the grass is always greener on the other side of the meadow, but neither of us is going to be able to be a different person than who we are. I guess all we can do is to try to do better in areas where we are not so proficient, but also to nurture our own gifts and stop being frustrated that we are not like someone else. 

Being inclusive has left me open to other trouble from time to time. For example, when I have  let an enthusiastic artist have too much of a voice in my theatre, only to find out the person is unstable and can’t work with others, stirring up trouble every time they are involved in something. On those occasions,  others in my circle have told me not to be so open, and I didn’t heed the warnings because it isn’t in my nature to be exclusive, but my lack of boundaries with people like that ends up negatively affecting others, so after a few times of that happening, I have been forced to become a bit more hesitant to include people too quickly.  This sometimes also happens in friendships, where I have let someone in too fast only to be tossed aside when I’m no longer useful. These experiences have forced me to learn to go against my nature, and to try harder to require people to prove that they deserve entry into my world. 

On the other hand, my tendency to include people has helped me to nurture many grateful artists, as well as led me to some of the most important friendships in my life. I also have a lot of connections with interesting people who enrich my life in a number of ways because I’ve given them a chance.  I think there’s a fine line I haven’t quite found, but that I really can’t have the good parts of a generous nature without occasionally encountering the bad. 

It is a goal of mine to continue to be the kind of person who tries to make room for everyone, without compromising herself in the process. Sometimes, I’m just muddled or too full of things to do and I lose my path a bit, but I am trying to do better not to ever make anyone feel left out without losing my grip on myself in the process. 


“If you wanna be one of the non-conformists, all you have to do is dress just like us and listen to the same music we do.” – Southpark

Who decides what is ‘weird’ anyway? 


Quite a few years ago, my friend John and I went to see a play in the upstairs room of a bar in Montrose. This is when Montrose was still weird and wonderful and we were just starting an experimental theater together. We were scouting out the bar for a play we were going to create.  It was a black comedy that had incest, cannibalism, bondage and murder in it. Basically it was him emptying his head of all kinds of demons, and me relating to it enough to want to direct/produce it (and I added plenty of weirdness to it, too). The play we had just seen was also very weird, and we loved it. We felt like we’d found the perfect weird place to do it. 

As we were leaving, we had to walk past a row of people in green, red or blue mohawks, facial piercings and tattoos. They were all dressed up for some concert that was happening in the space after the play. As we passed, one of them said  loudly, looking down his nose at us with total disdain,  “look at the cookie cutter people!” Obviously, he said that because we both had natural hair, no visible tattoos (I don’t think he has any. I don’t), no facial piercings, and we both were wearing pretty mainstream, gender-specific clothes.  However, we didn’t look as much like each other as all those people looked alike, so I just laughed at the guy who said it. Inside, I was a little offended, though. To be honest, I thought.. “you would be shaking in your fake combat boots if you knew how scary we are.” I didn’t say it, because there were a lot of them and only 2 of us. 

But as I always do after I’ve gotten mad at someone for hurting my feelings, I went back and thought about what it was about me would make someone react that way, and what about that other person would make them want to be mean like that towards me.  I knew that John and I were quite possibly among the strangest people I knew. We had both been odd our whole lives. We both had difficult, traumatic childhoods and had become the kind of people who made art as a necessity because it was the only thing that kept us tethered to the world.  We didn’t need costumes to prove to anyone we were bizarro freaks.  In fact, you could say we had spent our whole lives trying to disguise ourselves as ‘normal people’ in a desperate attempt to blend in.

John and Me acting together in a show by Dos Chicas Theater Commune (a Sadomasochistic XMas)

I wondered if the people in those goth/punk costumes felt ordinary on the inside, so they had to be as expressive as possible on the outside so they could feel unique? Or was this just another way of blending in, but just blending in with specific people?  Or were they all just really so bold that they didn’t mind showing an outward expression of their weirdness to the world, like they were flipping the bird to everyone else? I don’t know for sure what is in someone else’s heart, but I wondered why someone who seemed to want to embrace the right to be who they wanted to be would judge anyone else so harshly for the way they dressed.  I only know that if I had tried to do that goth thing, I most definitely would have gotten it wrong. It was too specific for me in its rules to ever be able to pull it off. I also would have gotten really freaked out if people had stared at me because of the way I looked. I would worry they could see the inside of my head. 

Also.. if they were trying to be ‘unique’, they totally failed, because they were the true cookie cutter people that day.  They were just like the ‘cool kids’ in high school who taunt the weirdos. We were the weirdos, like we always are.

It’s like that SOUTHPARK episode, when Stan is depressed and makes friends with the goth kids, and one of them tells him: “If you wanna be one of the non-conformists, all you have to do is dress just like us and listen to the same music we do.” 

Anyway, just a story of an epiphany I had one time.  Everyone’s just trying to find a way to be special. Maybe we’re all weird inside and nobody is weird, and we all just do different things about it.

Here’s some pictures of the art John and I made together, with other weirdos helping us, of course. We all find each other eventually.  Photos courtesy of Mildred’s Umbrella Theater Company (www.mildredsumbrella.com)

‘Night of The Giant’, by John Harvey.. with me and Amy Warren.
Dan Laden, Me and Josh Gray in ‘Eros: A Circus” , by John Harvey
‘Rome’ , by John Harvey, directed by me (Christie Guidry and HR Bradford)
Us pretending to be normal


Olivia (aka Poopy Lungstuffing)

Sometimes I am so busy, and I don’t have head space to write my own ideas.. So I decided that every now and then, I should use my blog to celebrate someone I know who is amazing so other people will know how amazing she is. 

Today, I will honor my friend, Olivia Dvorak, AKA Poopy Lungstuffing. I got permission to blog about her, but I didn’t want to invade her privacy by using an unauthorized picture of her, so here’s a picture of her doll collection at Super Happy Funland, a music venue that she co-founded. 


She is one of the cleverest musicians/songwriters I’ve ever known.  She downplays it herself, but she’s even had musicians cover her songs internationally. She played the ukulele before it was cool. She’s an original, one of a kind, amazing artist. She’s also incredibly cute, smart and funny.  Don’t crowd her space if you ever meet her, though. She gets overwhelmed by that (so do I, actually, so I get it). She explains in some of her songs why this is a thing. She’s open and self-aware about her issues, and also recognizes pain in others, which is why I love her songs so much.  

Here is her singing one of my favorite songs in the world (an original by her) “Dolly Got a Haircut” : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jb3bli6I1R0

Below are some more songs of hers. Some of them are funny, some are sad.. My favorite one is ‘The Thing That Eats Only Food’. I pretty much love all of them, because the lyrics are amazing. That one always gets me, though. 

Here’s an album she made: https://poopylungstuffing.bandcamp.com/

She was featured in this article about Houston’s most eccentric musicians (number 1, in fact) https://www.houstonpress.com/music/houstons-10-most-eccentric-musicians-6524546

Here’s a cover of  her song, ‘Dolly Got a Haircut’  by a musician in Finland: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQtxuUVPFvQ

Anyway, do check out her songs. She’s incredible. I’ve always been a huge fan. 


Fragrant Jewels

I haven’t had anything important to blog about this week, so I’m going to do a product review.  I had seen a Facebook ad for something called ‘Fragrant Jewels’ , which are these bath bombs that have a little surprise jewelry piece inside. A friend got me one for my birthday back in May, but I am not really a bath person, I have only taken showers for years, so I didn’t use it right away. Today, I decided to be a bath person and give it a shot.

Here it is at the beginning. It’s almost as big as a baseball.


So, I got a book and started running a bath. I was going to try to do it right and sit in the bath relaxing, with a candle and a drink. I’m not drinking alcohol at the moment, so it was just a diet Cherry 7up, but it’s kind of like champagne if you put it in the right glass.

So I dropped the thing in the tub, and it started rolling around, spewing out yellow and green foam into the water.


I think if I bought one myself, I would probably choose a different color, because it looked a little weird and swampy when it was done. Also, I was really disappointed that it barely had any fragrance at all, since that was part of it’s name.

Anyway, I decided to think of it as mermaidy, instead of swampy, so I lit my candle (which did have a nice fragrance)  and got in.


I quickly realized that, not being a bath person, I really didn’t know how people took relaxing baths. First of all, my hands were wet, and my book got wet, and that wasn’t relaxing. Then I couldn’t really see it with just candle light, so I gave that up, and I didn’t have one of those bath pillows (I think I have one somewhere, but I don’t know that I’ve ever used it, so… ) so I was just kind of sitting up. If I tried to lean back, I slipped around and bumped my head on the back tiles, so that wasn’t relaxing either. Eventually, I got bored and just got out, and I was expecting residue from that swamp monster to be all over me, but it didn’t seem to be. It didn’t leave any residue in the tub either.

What it did leave was THIS: IMG_0750

When I opened this little plastic ball, I got this! Now I know why the green one was chosen, instead of a purple one. Emerald is my birthstone. Not that this is a real emerald. It is costume jewelry, but it was fun to find in the bath bomb.


So.. that was my Fragrant Jewel experience, in case anyone is thinking of trying it. I also found out from their website that they have candles, also. That sounds like it would take a long time to get the prize out of, and I’m not that patient, so I don’t know if that would be for me either. Also, when I went to their site, I had to put in my email, and I’ve gotten 3 emails from them just today, so be aware of that. They send a lot of emails.

Anyway, it was fun!



Inspiring Women

Happy Sunday,

I haven’t blogged in a bit. I’ve been busy-busy and a little bogged down mentally lately, and also feeling like I’m always struggling against impossible obstacles. Today, I read some inspiring stories about 5 women in the world’s largest refugee camps in Kenya. Apparently, the ‘average length of displacement’ in these camps has risen to an estimated 26 years. These 5 women have seemingly insurmountable challenges thrown at them by their situation, and still, they have managed to flourish, and instead of just waiting around for a better future, they have created their own present. There’s a self-made filmmaker, a mechanic, a stove maker, a dress maker and an aspiring software engineer.

I’m sharing the link here in case anyone else (my 5 followers :)) wants to read about it in Danai Gurira’s newsletter. I love her, so I get her newsletter. She is an amazing human.

Read it here   Learn about some bad-ass women.

This picture/logo is from the newsletter on the site. I hope I’m allowed to use it. If you like the story, you can sign up to get emails from them.







I GOT A HANDMAID’S TALE JACKET!#BlessedBeTheFight #HandmaidsTale

So.. less than a week ago, I got this email from Hulu, saying:

“We know you’re a big fan of The Handmaid’s Tale, so we wanted to thank you for being with the show since the beginning. We partnered with Levi’s® to create an exclusive, limited-edition Handmaid’s Tale jacket to give to a select number of dedicated fans, including you.

This jacket is free (seriously!). To get yours, just use the link and code below. You’ll be able to select your size and tell us where to send it – but please hurry because we only made 2,020 of these jackets and are gifting on a first-come-first-served basis (and sizes are getting limited).”

Then there was a claim code to put in.

I almost deleted it because I thought it was spam, but it came from Hulu, and I do watch Handmaid’s Tale, so I thought ‘what the heck’ and I replied with my size and my claim code. Five days later.. I got the cutest denim jacket delivered to me with patches to put on it if I wanted. For free! Come to find out, many people covet this, and I was very lucky to be chosen!

Y’all, this never happens to me. I literally never win anything. I won a couple of medals for playing the flute in high school, and an essay contest when I was 10, but that’s about it. Chance drawings.. forget it. I do not have luck. So I feel super chosen right now.

There was a note in the box asking recipients to post selfies ‘styling the jacket’. Sounds like a small thing to do for a free jacket.

So here’s me styling the jacket! I haven’t put the patches on yet because they wouldn’t iron on like the instructions said, so I’ll sew them when I have time.


Photos by Steven Wolfe (my husband).

And here are the patches. Handmaid’s Tale watchers will get what they mean..


So… that was me having luck for once! Have a nice rest of the week!