Yes, I am watching the DNC tonight because I want to relish this moment. Women have had the vote nationally for fewer than a hundred years. My grandmother was an adult woman when the battle for women’s suffrage was finally won.
And in these next few nights, for the first time in this republic’s long history, a woman has been nominated by a major political party for President.
A woman.
My grandmother would not have thought it possible and my mother didn’t either, and I have doubted it more than once.
A woman.
And I don’t give a fig what you think of her–this is life-changing in ways we can’t even guess yet. Now–record your ire and snark. Commence your whining and chest-beating. I care not.
A woman, after so long.
I suspect many of you have no idea what this means to some of us. We have waited and worked and never dreamed this could actually happen.
And I expect in the next few months, I am likely to make good use of one of my favorite invitations–why don’t you kiss my wide white Appalachian Irish Pagan arse?
I kind of look forward to it.