Midterms are this week. I am not kidding.
We were at an 80s-themed party at a nightclub in the next town over (located behind the supermarket, obvs). My friend, who was a big streaker in college and tends to remove clothing from time to time, pulled his pants down on the dancefloor, revealing white cotton briefs. No one else noticed for several minutes (and I probably only did because he had asked me to hold his drink while he undid his belt). Finally, our friends started noticing, and a few minutes later one of the bar employees came over. I was thinking, “Oh, shit, he’s going to tell _____ that he has to put his pants back on, or kick him out of the bar or something.” Instead, the guy gestured toward _____’s drink and said, “You can’t have a drink on the dance floor.” He didn’t even notice the lack of pants. _____ handed over the cup and went back to dancing.
Dude is 6’5 so he’s pretty conspicuous to begin with. I have no idea how that even happened. But I laughed so hard I can probably lay off my ab regimen for another month.
and take the opportunity to shit on your roommate’s bed. Again.
I don’t want to talk about it, nor do I have the time to do so. I have to do my Stats homework by 2 p.m.
What does that mean? You drive like a sparkly vampire? How does a sparkly vampire drive?
Overheard at my bus stop.
Her: Why? Why did you do that? I don’t know why would do this to me?
Him: What? What? It’s not that big a deal! Gurl, you gotta chill.
Her: Don’t tell me what to do! That was my last can of Pringles! You fuck, what am I gonna do now?
Him: Buy another?
Her: That is not the point. I hate you. You do this all the motherfucking time. I’m done with you.
Him: Why you gotta say that? That ain’t right. Baby, I’ll get you some more.
Her: Damn straight. I need a cigarette.
I need a cigarette, too.
It is so fast. Also Windows 7 is the jam. The commercials make sense now.
There is no logical place for him to be. I am freaking out.
I had a dream the other night where I was in a heated argument with another woman (a fictional dream person) and I slipped up and called her a gendered epithet (OK, two). I then paused the argument and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean that; I shouldn’t have called you [X] when what I really meant is that you’re a terrible person.” Even in dreams, I manage to remember that language matters and words have meanings, and that there are certain words I don’t use and why. Pretty funny.
They should give this guy a medal:
A flight attendant ran out of patience on a plane that just landed at JFK on Monday afternoon, so he allegedly cursed a blue streak over the P.A. system, grabbed some beers, pulled the emergency chute, slid down and ran from the plane, sources said.
How can the story get any better than that?
Slater was later arrested at his home in Belle Harbor by Port Authority officials. Police sources said that when authorities found Slater he seemed to be in the midst of having sexual relations.
I should try this tomorrow. Although with the advance notice, it might not have the same impact.
I think abuse and policing women’s sexuality are two sides of the same coin, that coin being attempted male ownership of female sexuality.
ETA: And yet of course it’s not always men doing the policing/abusing.
I am going to turn that URL into something that would be OK to have pop up for recruiters on Google.
He has to get a soft one because otherwise he bashes his head into it and gives himself a nosebleed. He is a small kitty but I don’t want him to feel claustrophobic in it, and I don’t want to spend more than $50 (would prefer to spend ~$30ish). Any suggestions?
Wonder if it’s safe to roll up to tomorrow’s haircut assuming my hairdresser watches Pretty Little Liars.
I can’t wait to wear them all weekend, especially indoors.
Brilliant, and something I never would have thought of.
I don’t think I’ve talked a whole lot about why I took (back) up yoga last fall, besides the fact that I enjoyed it in college.
I joined yoga to regain control of my body. I broke my collarbone in a really bad car accident, 6 years ago, next month. Given that I had much worse injuries (like a busted right femur: hello titanium rod down the inside of my bone, and bruised lungs) the doctors “didn’t bother fixing the shoulder because as far as we’re concerned a scar on your shoulder is no worse than a bump. WRONG. ANSWER.
Despite physical therapy and general physical fitness, I had been in near constant pain for 5 years. Every time I started to really get back into shape, and feel good about myself, physically (because how I feel about my body affects my whole mental state, I have a shitty self image) I’d get hurt again. My hips and the tendons in my lower back would rebel, and I’d end up nearly crippled in pain for days.
So I joined yoga again, at a fancy, but very highly regarded studio with extremely attentive, well trained teachers, paying a membership fee that makes my budget tight, hoping that it would help me build strength and flexibility, and that it would help me get control of my body back. And it’s doing that, better than I could have even imagined. I’ve been almost entirely pain free for months now. Chronic pain is emotionally and physically debilitating. A lot of people don’t realize what a toll it takes on your mental state. Being free from that is incredible.
Today I noticed that the improved posture and openness in my shoulders has also pulled back my collarbone. And that’s a small victory that means much more to me than everything but the pain relief. This is something that, to me, is very important: the protruding lump from my broken collarbone has become only barely noticeable, even for me. And I see it every time I look in the mirror. Most other people never even notice it, but it has always bothered me.
That broken collarbone has been a daily reminder of my accident and (since 2006) ex-Boy. (We have the same break, but his was from Jr. High football. He noticed the break when he touched my shoulder our first night together) The seven inch scar on my thigh and the two inch one on my knee from the surgery have never bothered me. I don’t see them, day to day. I do kind of hate the traction scars on my shin, but I don’t notice those either, unless I’m shaving my legs.
So having that small, superficial victory actually means a lot to me.
Reblogging to reiterate that my best friend is super brave, strong, and awesome.
between the Canon PowerShot SD1300IS 12.1 MP Digital Camera with 4x Wide Angle Optical Image Stabilized Zoom and 2.7-Inch LCD and the Canon PowerShot SD780IS 12.1 MP Digital Camera with 3x Optical Image Stabilized Zoom and 2.5-inch LCD?
Obviously I know what the LCD size means, but which is the better choice? They are about the same price on Amazon, but the latter’s suggested retail is about $40 higher.
I have a pretty cool Sony point-and-shoot. One day I want to take really cool Travel Pictures.
Should I get something fancier?
Reblogging because I need to get a new camera before school (and a new suit, and a bag I can take to interviews, and other unfun stuff). A while back, I asked Alexis what she uses, because she always takes such great photos — it’s a Canon Rebel XTi with a 50mm 1.4 lens. I think I probably want something a little cheaper/more compact for school, so I can easily throw it in a clutch before heading out for the evening (and not cry when someone spills a Keystone Light on it), so if anyone has suggestions, let me know!
Now I just need to clean my entire office before my replacement starts on Monday.
because I am sort of overcome by the futility of it all. A lot of (most?) people are set in their ways and don’t seem interested in trying to understand where other people are coming from or expanding their views on the world, and these people are probably raising their kids to be the same way. Humanity, as a whole, is suffering from a major empathy deficit. The world would run a whole lot smoother if people were less myopic and self-serving, but I don’t see anything changing drastically within my lifetime. Here’s hoping I’m wrong.
and I can’t respond to it because I don’t know the person whose wall it’s on, but this one jerk is making all of these terrible arguments and then accusing other people of not being able to argue intelligently. Why do people with a total dearth of critical thinking skills always think they’re so much smarter than everyone else? Also, why do people with no lived experience of oppression think they’re the ones best equipped to identify it?
Here’s my theory on question number one: people with no critical thinking skills assume they’re the smartest smarties because it never occurs to them that every question has multiple answers. They live in a perpetual round of 3rd grade Around The World. Remember that game, when you were paired with a classmate and the teacher held up a multiplication flash card, and the person who shouted out the answer first got a new opponent? Well there ya go. If your entire planet has one answer per flash card, you’re going to assume the kid taking several guesses for 5x7=35 is a little slow on the uptake.
This is also why they get all “haters gonna hate” when confronted with opposition. As far as they are concerned, that round was done with they screamed 35.
I am always looking for the less-obvious answer and trying to see things from as many sides as possible, so this approach makes no sense to me. Even from a personal benefit standpoint, it stunts your intellectual and emotional growth. But I think you’re right.