The rain is unending. Which like, hashtag Seattle, I get it, it rains here a lot. But now it’s February and it’s been raining fairly frequently for five months straight. Looking down while waiting for the bus yesterday I realized I couldn’t recall wearing not-boots. Occasionally I stare longingly at my sandals or this tiny little summer dresses that are dutifully protected in clear plastic storage. “One day we’ll be together again,” I whisper. Or, “we’ll always have Greece.” I wish Noah’s ark magnitude precipitation felt like a warm cascade of twinkle lights.
‘Feminist’ Super Bowl commercial’s unanswered questions. Neighborhoods, class and Metrocards. Vintage travel posters for newly discovered planets. Maternity leave is not a handout for whiny bitches. (And while we’re at it, my friend Lauren is an incredible writer and you should read her blog, I’m Better in Real Life, all the time.) This piece on maternity policy in the New Republic. A friendly reminder that the US is alone in the industrialized world for not providing paid parental leave. Speaking of pregnancy, when Evie knew (in her trademark gorgeous prose). Serena and Indian Wells.
Leon Bridges – Coming Home (get your new wave soul fix via NPR)
Valerie June – Pushin’ Against A Stone (Spotify suggested this album to be this week and it was the perfect antidote to a Tuesday afternoon)