With great hope for the future, I’m weeping tonight.
“In this election, we cannot sit back and hope that everything works out for the best, we cannot afford to be tired or frustrated or cynical. Hear me: Between now and November, we need to do what we did eight years ago and four years ago. We need to knock on every door, we need to get out every vote, we need to pour every last ounce of passion into electing Hillary Clinton as president of the United States of America. Let’s get to work.
Read the full transcript here
The GOP Convention has thoroughly drained me, and I’m ready for a drink. Here’s to a more hopeful weekend!
Twist by Alice Tippet
“I’m glad this whole success thing is happening now. I can’t even imagine a twenty-three-year-old Leslie in this position. They would have kicked me off the set after two days. I would have fucked half the dudes in the crew. I was a less confident person back then. And damn sure not as funny.”
– Leslie Jones starring in Ghostbusters, who worked for 25 years as a stand-up comic before “becoming” famous.
Lately, one of my favorite recipes in rotation is Baba Ganoush. I grill an eggplant until it’s fully soft and charred (making sure to first poke it with a fork in several places). I then scoop out the flesh and put it in a food processor with lemon, tahini, garlic and salt and pepper. It’s so easy and delicious. It’s on the menu at my house tonight. What’s your favorite food on the grill?
Photo from the New York Times Summer Cooking Tool Kit
by Ron Koertge
I miss my stepmother. What a thing to say,
but it’s true. The prince is so boring: four
hours to dress and then the cheering throngs.
Again. The page who holds the door is cute
enough to eat. Where is he once Mr. Charming
kisses my forehead goodnight?
Every morning I gaze out a casement window
at the hunters, dark men with blood on their
boots who joke and mount, their black trousers
straining, rough beards, calloused hands, selfish,
Oh, dear diary—I am lost in ever after:
those insufferable birds, someone in every
room with a lute, the queen calling me to look
at another painting of her son, this time
holding the transparent slipper I wish
I’d never seen.
I’m in need of an intervention. Although I didn’t watch Day 1 of the GOP convention on TV, I did follow it filtered through Twitter. Even one step removed, it feels like we’re careening towards the apocalypse. Deep breath in. I can’t wait to catch up with FLOTUS for this entire episode on Wednesday night.