(Source: awwww-cute, via roasy-deactivated20181221)
I came into work today, late, because I tried to go to a doctors appt. I was 10 minutes late and the doctor couldn’t see me for the physical. Instead, she saw me for an “acute” visit- meaning she basically just tended to the issues I’ve been having with my ears. I felt frustrated about going back to work and on the subway i sat next to a woman whose breath smelled like cough drops and who breathed loudly in my ear. i ended up getting here, doing work for 30 minutes, and then sitting and chatting with my coworkers about our families, our career paths, and how we maybe should’ve been working.
Pat and I ate lunch together outside. It’s so nice to work in the same area as him, and see him in the middle of the day. I’m so grateful for what we share. Sometimes I stop and think about how we’ve become “serious” and how a year ago I was compulsively “swiping” on apps, putting makeup on at 5 pm, and meeting a few different men/women every week. And now I have this wonderful person with whom I get to eat dinner, share my emotions, laugh at the same dumb inside jokes over and over again, etc. It’s great. It’s also, at times, stressful, because I’ve experienced love and the lack-thereof before, and now that I’m experiencing love again, I fear the lack-thereof. I try, as hard as I can, to just be mindful and present and grateful for what we currently have. Therapy has been so helpful in abating my anxiety, and I feel grateful to finally have some consistency with that.
This weekend I studied and wrote and made gaspacho and bought brie and ate them both with azul, on the picnic table outside my house with andrew bird playing in the background and an assortment of candles lit. we talked about introversion, our relationships, our favorite foods and work. The last few months, having time for exist in an introverted space has felt so extremely important, and I’ve cherished the moments when I’m in bed studying, running on the trail, writing, reading, walking around the city alone and buying ingredients to later cook, alone, with. I also loved hiking in Oregon with just my brother, and few other people on the trail. Feeling comfortable alone in your head takes practice, and you can’t really practice if you’re alway surrounded y others. I love being social and am frequently surrounded by others, so it’s important that i’m mindful of this.
For some reason I feel like im in a major “funk” today and can’t concentrate on the work I know i must do, so i thought i’d sign onto this little corner of the internet and do something here instead.
third wheeling two girls who are best friends is so much worse than third wheeling a couple
(via bubblywubblydubbly)
“
A List of “Men’s Rights” Issues That Feminism Is Already Working On
Feminists do not want you to lose custody of your children. The assumption that women are naturally better caregivers is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not like commercials in which bumbling dads mess up the laundry and competent wives have to bustle in and fix it. The assumption that women are naturally better housekeepers is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to have to make alimony payments. Alimony is set up to combat the fact that women have been historically expected to prioritize domestic duties over professional goals, thus minimizing their earning potential if their “traditional” marriages end. The assumption that wives should make babies instead of money is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want anyone to get raped in prison. Permissiveness and jokes about prison rape are part of rape culture, which is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want anyone to be falsely accused of rape. False rape accusations discredit rape victims, which reinforces rape culture, which is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be lonely and we do not hate “nice guys.” The idea that certain people are inherently more valuable than other people because of superficial physical attributes is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to have to pay for dinner. We want the opportunity to achieve financial success on par with men in any field we choose (and are qualified for), and the fact that we currently don’t is part of patriarchy. The idea that men should coddle and provide for women, and/or purchase their affections in romantic contexts, is condescending and damaging and part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be maimed or killed in industrial accidents, or toil in coal mines while we do cushy secretarial work and various yarn-themed activities. The fact that women have long been shut out of dangerous industrial jobs (by men, by the way) is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to commit suicide. Any pressures and expectations that lower the quality of life of any gender are part of patriarchy. The fact that depression is characterized as an effeminate weakness, making men less likely to seek treatment, is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be viewed with suspicion when you take your child to the park (men frequently insist that this is a serious issue, so I will take them at their word). The assumption that men are insatiable sexual animals, combined with the idea that it’s unnatural for men to care for children, is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be drafted and then die in a war while we stay home and iron stuff. The idea that women are too weak to fight or too delicate to function in a military setting is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want women to escape prosecution on legitimate domestic violence charges, nor do we want men to be ridiculed for being raped or abused. The idea that women are naturally gentle and compliant and that victimhood is inherently feminine is part of patriarchy.
Feminists hate patriarchy. We do not hate you.
If you really care about those issues as passionately as you say you do, you should be thanking feminists, because feminism is a social movement actively dedicated to dismantling every single one of them. The fact that you blame feminists—your allies—for problems against which they have been struggling for decades suggests that supporting men isn’t nearly as important to you as resenting women. We care about your problems a lot. Could you try caring about ours?
”— Excerpt from If I Admit That Hating Men is a Thing, Will You Stop Turning it Into a Self-fulfilling Prophecy?, by Lindy West (via runningmermaids)
(Source: angerr, via growingfromforeignsoil)
How to be in your 20s:
you will be extremely depressed. you live in the city you grow up in, around people who make you comfortable. you will think for many days and many months about how life is long and you should prioritise extricating yourself from your comfort zone. you peruse photos of western Canada, Peru, Senegal, Mozambique, Vermont. You think you should take the summer off and WOOF. You haven’t planted a seed since earth day in 5th grade, but that’s okay.
then, there are the days that, despite your familiar geography, you feel so lost in yourself you are certain it is necessary to hold onto the comforts that come with the city you grew up in. the world is dying and the world is terrifying, so cling tight to that which doesn’t scare you. so you stay in that city, you work at the same hospital people you love are rushed to when they are sick. You go to concerts at the same venues you went to in high school, this time you’re allowed to drink beer.
You date 14 boys and 1 girl from Tinder and with the 13th you feel you could talk forever. You sleep over at his house located in the most gentrified neighborhood in the city- you tell him your grandmother lived here nearly 100 years ago, when her family owned a fruit stand and were so poor they were nearly evicted from their home. That same boy- #13- makes you feel alarmingly at home in your brain but not in your body- so you end things and end up falling for the 14th boy on the list.
together you and #14 go to sports games, cook dinner, meet each other’s families. when you’re together you have so much fun that you forget to be anxious, but then it all comes rushing back to you and you get so angry when you find out he can’t help you the way you [unfairly] need- want- to be helped.
it only takes you two minutes to pee, but you’ll sit on the toilet at work for eight minutes contemplating what you’re doing there. you send e-mails half the day and talk to women about their periods the other half. you mention composting to your coworker who subsequently tells you youre “too crunchy for her” and rolls her eyes so you feel sad about not being liked- it replaces the sadness you felt a minute ago about the environment.
most of your friendships are long distance. You have Paige and Azul, but the people who make you feel most loved in your neurotic wacko crazy mind are not near you. you schedule times to talk on the phone with these friends- each in different places around the country and world- and your face hurts from smiling so much afterward.
you still feel you need to leave this city- a city you admittedly love- and be somewhere greener. you love cities but they don’t cure your ills as much as nature does. you remember the time in college you were so depressed so you took walks in the arboretum and sat on the swings on a hill when the sun was setting. you felt better. in france when you and alexis ran in the forest just outside of paris you felt high on your own positive emotion.
you really wonder if you’re meant to live in vermont or maine or somewhere less urban. you also wonder if youre glorifying the past.
you write about your 20s and see the consistent theme of indecision. you cry in your bed and you wake up and go to work and repeat and all of the inconsistency is brewing in the back of your brain and in you shoulders and your toes and you sometimes are so happy too and you don’t understand how emotion can change so quickly and so strongly, and maybe thats what being in your 20s means so you just go with it and hope to figure it all out sometime soon.
Oh damn.
omg that is so fucking accurate
nailed it tbh
(Source: desperatelyseekingsanity1, via herlazyship)
Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
me @ myself: you dumb bitch you really thought you were over it
(via artidote)