After work Friday we made the trek south, fueling up at Melissa & Blane's before Friday night's ride to MD with my Women's March crew. I wanted to make sure I went with Mimi since we went to the March for Women's Lives in 2004 together so me, Melissa, Debbie, and MFD drove down to Grasonville, MD, to spend the night before the march. We got there around 10 and I was reading until 12:30. Not smart!
Saturday began at 6:30. It was empowering, exhilarating, exceptional, and absolutely none of the negative things backlash against the marches would have you believe. Full post on this tomorrow. I made it through the day with no coffee but used this Coke message for fuel. I was proud to march with this awesome crew and the hundreds of thousands of others on the streets of DC. Mimi was our awesome organizer and we got right on the Metro both coming and going in a duel stroke of preparedness on the way there (we bought metro cards in advance) and pure luck on the way home (not long after we were on the platform they closed the gate to the stop). My mom baked us cookies to take and those along with a hot dog that I wolfed down at 4 pm were the only things I ate. Melissa and I stood in line for nearly two hours for the bathroom though because there was only one where we were standing and we couldn't make it through the crowd to the others. But it was great people watching, we met a lot of awesome people in line, and honestly we were just standing at the rally at that point anyway. I loved seeing women of all ages there and I think MFD is finally a full on feminist. We still have some things to work on, like how women can choose to pose for whatever photos they want and have the world not use it against them and the whole mansplaining thing pops up every once in a while, but I legitimately saw him cry in the street over a sign depicting a woman dying from an illegal abortion, so I think we're mostly there. Plus he wore this intersectional feminism sign on his back all day. All kidding aside, I am grateful to have been surrounded by fierce females at all stages and ages in my life to teach me how to be and remind me that my backbone is the strongest bone in my body; as well as supportive, empowering men who have never asked me to be less than what I am, from my husband to my Dad and brothers and relatives and friends. Not everyone has that.
While tomorrow I'll be talking about what it was like at the March, I first wanted to address the backlash against the Marches I've been seeing on social media from people demanding explanations as to why people went and we're already equal and blah blah blah out of the way now. In case you don't want to read this whole thing, the main gist is I don't care why you did what you did on Saturday, why do you care why I did what I did?
I find it very curious that so many people who did not attend a women's march Saturday want explanations from the people who did attend, as if they are owed an explanation. ps - they're not. Why did you go? What was it for? I have a lot of friends I differ from politically, and if they have commented to me at all on my attendance it was with respect. That is why they are still my friends, because I am not friends with people who are assholes. Regardless, I've seen it elsewhere and the questions were not asked out of curiosity or respect, but rather with derision and an almost predatory anticipation of a complete dressing down when the answers come. Me? I answer to myself and a higher power and no one else, fuck you very much, and that is well known, which is probably why people don't play this game with me. But if they did, my reply would be to tell them my reasons and then ask what they did on Saturday and why, and full out judge the shit out of them for it like it was my right to do so. I might even be unsatisfied with their initial answer and ask why a zillion more times, needling and interrogating further. That sounds crazy, right, drilling people on how they chose to spend their Saturday that way? Like back off Steph I went to the party because I wanted some someone else to make food and eat as much as I wanted and not clean up after myself. What is my punishment? That's how crazy it sounds when you interrogate people about why they went to a Women's March. That's how arbitrary and arrogant it is to think you have the right to judge someone for attending a Women’s March. Let me tell you, no one is EVER as interested and invested in what someone does on an average Saturday. But this Saturday? Lots of questions and insinuations and declarations and lines drawn. You know what? When we don't like what others choose to do with their time, we're probably best served by adopting a "good for you, not for me" attitude and going on with our own lives. First, if you were at a March, you don’t need tell anyone why you went. We have work to do and our time is not best spent explaining ourselves to people we don’t owe an answer to about how we spend our spare time. Lions don't lose sleep over the opinions of sheep. Second, no one cares why people did NOT go, so why does anyone care why people did? Weird. Stop. Third, in regards to anything in this life: if something is important to you, I hope you don't give one small damn about what other people think. If it matters to you, it matters. Fourth, sweet sweet adult freedom is cutting those who consistently attempt to infuse your energy with poison out of your life and not giving a fuck about how they feel about being cut out. No one gets a free pass to be an insulting assface to you regardless of who they are or how long you've known them, even if it's since birth. Fifth, are you seriously listening to and arguing with facebook and twitter warriors who probably don't actually take action on many things in real life? Maybe instead try telling them to take several seats. It will be less angst-ridden and time consuming and more satisfying to you, I promise. Sixth, because I like to say it, good day. I SAID GOOD DAY.
Now then, where were we?
We got home around 9:30 Saturday night and I was beat...a day at a March feels much different at quarter to 40 than it does at just a month past 26, which was hold old I was for the March for Women's Lives in 2004. Sunday I slept in, went over to read some books with the best niece ever Lola Jean, ran errands to Target/Produce Junction/grocery store (and that is why I get my groceries delivered, too freaking time consuming and a PITA), and did the typical Sunday hausfrauing (changed sheets, did five loads of laundry, blah blah) and weekly food prep. Bottom pics are some of my $6 flowers this week + MFD picked up my chair at Pier 1 + our Christmas gift Echo arrived. Hollerrrr. I have yet to set it up.
Weekly food prep: breakfast burritos from the freezer for breakfast; korean beef over rice for lunches, bell peppers and oranges for snacks; a jumble of smoked sausage and veggies for dinners; as well as cheesey chicken and wild rice casserole for us to eat this week, to freeze, and two pans for friends who just had a baby.
Full on Women's March stuff tomorrow, and honestly I have no idea what I'll blog about for the rest of the week, so I'll be just as surprised as you are. Toodleoo mofos.
Linking up with Biana at B Loved Boston for Weekending