Choices, Hillary Clinton, Vote

Bite Me.

Tuesday, September 27 was my birthday. The day after more than 80 million people tuned in for the first presidential debate of 2016, a night that changed the decorum of politics forever. You can go on Facebook, Twitter, TV or NPR and listen to the debrief. Or not pay attention. Your choice.

I am going to talk about cookies.

At my daughter’s engagement party Saturday night we were served some amazing cookies.  Cut, styled and frosted imaginatively and deliciously. When was the last time you grabbed three cookies? I could not refrain or restrain. I ate a silver-leafed champagne bottle, a blushing bride and a handsome groom. Every bite divine.

Restraint is overrated at my age.

I wore a bubblegum pink dress with bell sleeves and a swingy hem. I had on flats and danced until two in the morning. I stuck to Bud Light. I didn’t care what I looked like or that I didn’t drink the Tequila punch. But when I walked in and saw those platters of cookies?

“Bite me,” they called. And I ate as many as I could.

And this election year I feel strongly about my candidate. I am making a choice to vote for Hillary Clinton and I don’t care if it is the same as your vote. America, we can either choose or snooze every four years. Which will you do this November?

Because this matters. 

I’m choosing. I’m voting. I’m talking. I’m biting into this, people.

Do it. This is not the time for restraint.


She doesn’t bake, thank goodness. She needs to run the country instead.

Besides, I know where to get the best ones in town.