Women, Let's Get Paid Like Hillary Clinton

As soon as I heard the report on 880 AM this morning about Colin Powell's email account getting hacked I was bothered. I felt uncomfortable and I also sucked my teeth. I was reacting to his comments about Hillary Clinton. He shared in emails that he lost a speaking gig because of Hillary Clinton--her speaking fee was too high. He said she screws things up with hubris and blasts Clinton for having 'unbridled ambition' (and to think she's not as 'loud' as she could be!).


Again, I was overcome with an instant feeling of discomfort and annoyance.


I don't know Clinton's speaking fee. That's not the point. What I thought about was how Powell was implying that she was charging more than she is worth.


Here's a man who's upset that a woman 'cost him money'. I wonder what's the going rate for politicians to speak at universities. How much are men getting paid?


Clinton was the Secretary of State--you gotta pay for that. She's a former senator--you gotta pay for that. She has a postgraduate law degree--you gotta pay for that and she's had a professional career (experience) before getting into politics--you gotta pay for that.

"I am not an imposter. I am a professional. I am worthy of praise... and higher rates." To my fellow female entrepreneurs #impostersyndrome

— Abigail Ekue (@abigailwrites) September 2, 2016

Don't Break His Face in Case of Emergency

Photo: Ruth Fremson/The New York Times

If you were in New York City last night, Saturday, February 13 and tried to catch a downtown A or C train between 9:30 and 11 PM, you were assed out. The train I was on was the cause of the delay. The train car I was in on the A Train - 6129 - was the cause of the delay. The white man I gave that "don't sit near me" look to was the cause of the delay. He pulled the emergency brake.

I didn't know that when I first looked at him. He merely looked slightly left of center and I didn't want to be bothered. He was coherent and lucid enough to know what my look meant and kept it moving to the next set of seats.

Then I heard chatter from the center of the car - "he did it" "yeah, that white dude right there" "emergency brake" "that nigga right there"

I looked towards the people talking, "What? This dude pulled the emergency brake?" I asked motioning at him with my thumb.

"Yeah!" I saw the red cord pulled at the other end of the car and then shot a death glare at the man. Another woman sitting at the opposite end of the car, on the other side of him, asked what was going on.

"This man right here," I pointed wishing the power of anger behind my menacing point would pierce his eyeball, "pulled the fucking emergency brake."

She went off too.

And we sat there.

Somewhere between 125th and 59th street. In the tunnel.

He Said, She Said

I'm sharing this quick exchange. Part of scene from a story or screenplay? Dialogue with tension and conflict help move a story along, establish dynamic relationships, set up characters' likability and relatability. A "getting to know you" text exchange gone awry? 21st century relationships barely live but do die due to misread messages and, for some, the emoticons they deem necessary.

UFC 157: Rousey vs. Carmouche - Ultimate Fighting Women

Rousey vs. Carmouche at UFC 157

Rousey: "...Damn, those girls did deserve to be in the main event."


On Saturday, February 23, 2013, in Anaheim, California, "Rowdy" Ronda Rousey successfully defended her Bantamweight Championship against "Girl Rilla" Liz Carmouche in UFC's first women's bout. The night was history making. And inspiring.

Subjectified: Nine Young Women Talk about Sex -- Giveaway

Subjectified: Nine Young Women Talk about Sex Trailer May 2012 from Melissa Tapper Goldman on Vimeo.

Women have sex. But, why? How? Why do they choose the partners they choose?

Subjectified is a documentary that asks the question that is often answered by everyone else but the women in question. Women are often sexually objectified for men or by their standards. As a result other women develop their own views on the sex and sexuality of their sisters. Real expressions of female sexuality are few and far between -- now here's Subjectified.

"While our culture is saturated with images of female sexuality, the real voices of women themselves are frequently missing.  Through in-depth interviews, Subjectified lets women do the talking, trading easy answers and stereotypes for brutal honesty.  The stories may sound familiar: young moms, abstinent Christians, lesbians, survivors of assaults and STD’s.  But outside the world of reality TV and sound bites, women approach their lives in complex and unexpected ways: sometimes hilarious, sometimes sobering, and always heartfelt.  Subjectified will change the way you think about female sexuality. "

Open Your Legs, Ladies

Madonna is always opening her legs.



During a conversation in which a friend gave me the play-by-play of the Grammy's (I didn't watch), it segued to Glen Campbell being one of the best performances of the night. I chalk that up to him being from an era where you had to perform and entertain the crowd with talent. This led us to Madonna. I said my last memory of an awards show is Madonna performing "Vogue" and the moment she lifted the bottom of her Victorian gown to "bump and grind it".


I grew excited talking about her "Don't Tell Me" video (male dancers and crotch-watching opportunities) and of course, "Human Nature". That scene where she sits with her legs open and slowly slides her thighs together and snaps them shut. Love it (not to mention the entire video and the message of the song).


Express yourself, don't repress yourself

That's when I made the statement, "Madonna is always opening her legs."



I do too. It's such a comfortable posture. It provides stability. It can be sensual and sexual, depending on context.


And it's frowned upon.

The Time I Felt I Couldn't Hollaback

Bumper Sticker by Holly Kearl

On my way home after a wonderful night, two men took it upon themselves to ruin my mood. Friday evening, I had a great time at Word Up pop-up bookshop. I read that evening, listened to other authors, poets and musicians, and after the event, spent time with a new acquaintance.


The train ride home was uneventful. Not one drunk or vagabond to speak of. The train made all stops. It was a little after 4am on Saturday morning before I got back to my neighborhood. I've done this a million times before. About a block away from the train station a car pulled up along side the parked cars, slowing to about 5 miles an hour to keep pace with me. The passenger called out to me something to the effect that I shouldn't be alone and asked if he could walk with me. I knew the tone. He wasn't trying to be a gentleman. I kept pace and looked sidelong at him. He continued to speak but rage was drowning out whatever he was saying.

World Cup Of Women's Love

Last year, I was on South Africa time for a month during the World Cup. This year, it's Germany. My Nigerian ladies were eliminated during the Group phase. Sigh. I just finished watching the Germany v Japan quaterfinal match of the FIFA Women's World Cup 2011. Japan pulled the upset and eliminated Germany (1-0), the defending champions and the host country. It was a great game! Japan was the underdog coming in and they played hard. This was after France and England played to penalty kicks (and England's squad was peppered with hobbled players)! France missed their first PK and I didn't know how it was going to play out. I stood the entire time. But then England missed a PK and,well, France didn't. This sets up a pretty interesting semi-finals.

The Verdict On Courting

“Seeing you feels like flowers growing in my heart.”

Those were the first words this old(er) gentleman; we’ll call Mr. Ray, said to me as I walked down Spring Street in SoHo. The comment did make me slow down and smile. He asked my name and we shook hands. Then he said that seeing me made him feel like…this is where he started singing “Shining Star” to me. I really like that song. Have I ever had a stranger serenade me on the street before? No. Did I want the attention? Eh…it’s New York. The folks at the table in the restaurant right behind us looked for a few seconds then went back to their conversation. Mr. Ray wants to be my friend. He said he’d court me if I let him. He loves to go out. He invited me back to the restaurant where he’ll be performing Doo Wop (he totally dated himself) and also said he’d buy me dinner.