Dear Asshole at Work
I’d say “You know who you are,” but you probably don’t. Your head is so far up your own ass that I am quite certain you are unable to see what an insufferable douche you are. That being said, back the fuck off. We. Do not. Like you. You aren’t clever. Or funny. Or cool. You’re a tool. A dick. A douche. So get over yourself and stop giving my sister shit....
“I will be damned if I’m going to eat salad with dressing on the side for every meal for the rest of my life just so that I can squeeze into a dress that some magazine says is the right size for my height. How do THEY know what the right size for my height is? They don’t. They don’t know me. They don’t know that my fiance happens to LIKE the way I look, that he says...
jephjacques: Inspired by a tweet from @granulac POISON.
I am overwhelmed with a desire to do something reckless. Something stupid. Something I will regret. I need a self-destructive habit to turn to in times of stress. As a reminder that life is impermanent. I want to immerse myself in anything, so I feel less adrift.
I want to go lay out and try to get an even tan (instead of the awful one I get at work.) I want to play my video games and catch up on old TV shows. I want to call someone and go out to breakfast. I want to write. I want to do nearly anything productive. But instead, I’m sitting on my floor, looking at tumblr and facebook as they don’t update because it’s 9:30am in the...
kellyoxford: Best photo from last night’s riot in Vancouver. Photo by Rich Lam/Getty Images Possibly going to write a story about this (or something similar) later.
megan rosalarian gedris: Dressed to Kill →
rosalarian: Whenever I complain about how females are portrayed in mainstream superhero comics, inevitably half a dozen people pop up to tell me this: “Men are idealized in comics, too.” Yes. Yes they are. I am aware of this. While I think the idealism is harmful, that isn’t actually what I have a problem…
There's something beautiful
In the way you wrap your words around a rhythm only you can hear, although I feel its echoes if I listen hard enough. There’s something aggressive about the bare intimacy you offer up when you choose to share, with nothing but meter to hide behind. There’s something wonderful about knowing that, in the midst of everything else you are to me, I also found a poet. (I don’t write...
Gabi’s 21st birthday: Check! Gabi’s graduation: Check! (Yay two birds with one stone.) Dad’s birthday: Know what I’m getting, still have to actually go get it. Father’s day: Uhhh…. Myself (for not strangling children 2 weeks in a row): Undecided, but definitely happening.
Gravity rules my life
Up up up becomes down down down.
Leap up and RA at TiP East? Or spend the summer at home, making money and hanging out with my friends like I intended (since I am going to spend an entire semester not seeing anyone)? This is a nearly impossible decision.