What my Twitter feed would look like if I had one lately.

On Robin Williams:

If he can’t make it, what hope do the rest of us have?

On assuming the ‘free market’ will solve bigotry in all its forms:

It must be nice, to have no understanding of the civil rights movement and what it fought for and continues to fight for, to have no understanding of the need for people to have legal recourse when they have been discriminated against. It must be nice, because it means you do not need legal recourse, because you have not been discriminated against.

On cake:

Well this was the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.

On Orange is the New Black:

It’s hard to explain just how refreshing it is to see women’s stories on TV. And not just the usual women we see on TV (mostly white/skinny/young/rich/straight/educated), but the poor ones, the black/Hispanic/migrant ones, the old ones, the trans ones, the gay ones, the ones for whom you feel equal amounts of sympathy and revulsion. Real, three dimensional women. There are men but they are peripheral to most of the story, barely constructed bit parts as opposed to actual characters. Is this what most TV is like for men?

On Suits:

After OITNB this felt so impossibly white and privileged and male that I just couldn’t stand it. There is a new benchmark for my TV viewing, and it involves actual women.

On the universe’s insistence that we not book a holiday to the UK:

I am trying not to be superstitious that we have received so many signs this trip should not happen. Reminds me of the joke about the guy drowning and a boat comes past and offers to rescue him. No no, God will save me, he assures the boat. A sea plane comes past and offers him a ride. No no, God will save me, he insists. A submarine surfaces and suggests he get in. No no, he laughs them off. God will save me. Of course he drowns and when he meets God he asks why God did not rescue him. I sent a boat, a sea plane and a submarine, God says. What else did you want? Likewise we have received every sign imaginable that this trip was not to be, and yet we stubbornly cling to it. (Signs include leave not being approved, dogsitter being out of the country, job opportunities, and the Qantas website being out of action for 2 days. If I ask God why he let us die in a horrible plane/train/car crash or from dodgy haggis on this trip, I know what He is going to say.)

On being the mother of a nearly two year old:

Two going on twelve, amiright?! The mood swings, the defiance, the uncontrollable giggles, the desperate need for independence, the impromptu dance parties in the kitchen, the insistence on sparkly shoes and LIP GLOSS of all things. I think evolution every day for making them so cute and therefore reducing the chances of abandonment in the woods.


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