Just listened to the Radiolab show on a very premature birth and sobbed through my whole car ride home and then curled up in bed and kept listening to it and kept silently sobbing while also cry-eating CheezIts and thinking, “I want a baaaaaby I could have a baby I’m probably ovulating over Labor Day why don’t I have a baby with someone from Anime Boston THIS IS NOT A CRAZY THOUGHT.”
What I am saying is that going off the pill last year has made the week leading up to my period a beautiful carnival of crazy hormone feelings, despondency, and anticipatory cramps; the way our bodies constantly find new awful ways to surprise us is an eternal joy.
Also that that show was beautiful and sad and terrifying and hopeful and made me even more in awe that people continue to get pregnant even when it can be so scary and heartbreaking. I want my mom to come home so we can start early Mother’s Day cuddling.
I am deeply saddened by this. Despite Oberlin’s progressive politics and its history of involvement in the abolitionist and civil rights movements, there has always been racism on campus — when I was there, it was mostly hipster racism and privileged white kids saying stupid things — but this level of ugliness there is unimaginable to me. My heart is with the school community right now, and I wish I could have been there today to stand in solidarity with them.
Haaaalp, I’ve fallen into a TV Tropes pit!
This trope pretty accurately encapsulates my entire teen life though and explains why I’m probably a fair bit more foul-mouthed in the U.K. than here.
Of course, all my friends are graduate students or sassy gay…other graduate students…and so they love it.
I already spent my entire January book budget + $3 on one book last week.
And then I spent it one and a half times over on three books tonight.
But YOU KNOW WHAT, I read that one stupid expensive book voraciously all weekend and I think it’s going to SHAPE MY ENTIRE THINKING ABOUT MY CAREER, and the three books (all of which I read tonight) were all super true, emotional, wonderful, stories about middle schoolers, AND I HAVE NO REGRETS.
I WILL KEEP BUYING YOUNG JUSTICE GRAPHIC NOVELS AND YA FOREVER.
I REJECT THE TYRANNY OF A BUDGET.
MY CHILDREN’S LIBRARIANNESS CANNOT BE CONTAINED.
Oh, Benjamin, I feel what you feel.
Both because a sultry temptress named Mrs. Robinson seduces me into her every morning (hey, baby) and because of the second guessing my readings of clear borderline-to-actually inappropriate social cues.
(Is this the right time to bring up that my inability to not get hopeless flustered, awkward, and uncomfortable when a dude compliments me — because of this how-should-i-read-that-ugh-WHAT-DO-YOU-WANT ambiguity — has ONCE AGAIN got me in the soup? “Nice shirt, what a great color!” says older dude faculty member. “UM THANK YOU I GUESS IT IS A NICE COLOR? IT’S MY CURRENT FAVORITE COLOR BECAUSE BRIGHT COLORS LOOK GOOD WITH MY. HAIR. COLOR?” Suddenly it’s a five minute chat about my hair, and now everytime we interact it is about my clothing choices? “Orange and black” he observes when he comes in the library. “The colors of Halloween,” I do not observe back, “AND YOU — ON THE — NAUGHTY LIST!”)
(You’d have thought I’d learn my lesson after that time in college my ex was all, “My word, Emma, but you look fetching in that gown!” and I was all, “When I’m tired I like to dress up in bright colors in the hopes it will give me energy” — because apparently my default ramble is to TALK ABOUT PRETTY COLORS, SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE — and he was all, “Then today you must be a ROCKET” and I wanted to die in the cafeteria.)
(via jommyteelones)
did i just…accidentally open an IRA?
i just wanted a high-yield cd to start saving for when i want to have kids
and now i have both
and am having to research the most responsible way to manage my surprise retirement plan
why is me+banks always such a toxic combination
The further adventures of Hades and Hercules.
My sister and me as Disney’s Hercules and Hades.
(Trust — her sandals were amazing. I just couldn’t fit them in a picture.)
tafadhali submitted:
My little sister, whom I’ve recently introduced to Escher Girls, was modeling some of the props we picked up yesterday for her Halloween costume (Disney’s Hercules). I asked her to give me her most powerful fighting stance.
She delivered with her most practical swordplay, most empowered waist swivel, and most Greg Landalicious power cry.
I surrender.
My sister is an Escher Girl.
So proud. So proud of her fighting skills.
A dialog with a cat.
| Cat: | MEOW, let me in, MEOW, let me in, MEOW, let me iiiiiiin. |
| Me: | Okay, but you're not going to like it. I'm in the bath. |
| Cat: | WHY ARE YOU IN WATER. MEOW. I WANT TO CUDDLE. MEOW. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO YOURSELF ON PURPOSE. MEOW. I'm just going to circle the edge of the tub like a tightrope walker yowling pitifully. |
| Me: | Wow. I definitely thought you were going to comically slip off the edge into the water. I'm a little disappointed but mostly relieved. |
| Cat: | What if I just use your body as an isla-- |
| Both: | THAT IS NOT GOING TO WORK. |
| Cat: | Back to the pitiful yowling and doleful staring. |
Just snuck into my dad’s bedroom in the middle of the night to secret agent my dog into his usual sleeping area.
Dad, this dog has been sleeping in your room for seven years.
How do you never remember this fact.
You’ve had like thirty pets in your life idek.
Today we find out how many mimosas it takes to make packing up everything I own bearable.
Cheese-eating surrender monkey(UK, USA) a Frenchman, from the defeat of the French against the German in 1940, and the huge variety of cheeses originating from France.
When my French students asked me what Americans thought of the the French that is all I could ever think of in my head.
(Out loud, of course, I said things like, “They usually think of Paris and its fashion and art and food, like you think of New York and Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Most people don’t think about Catalonia,” but the inside of my head was all, “CHEESE EATING SURRENDER MONKEYS CHEESE EATING SURRENDER MONKEYS.”)
fursasaida replied to your post: Oh, life. Why you gotta be this way.
Seriously though. 2012 is the fucking apocalypse. I’m in a similar place right now, and I just, boooo. Hugs all round.
Thanks. 2012 IS THE WORST, and I am sorry it is sucking for you, too. I think moving home early will be what’s best for me, though — here, my entire life is (a) eating and sleeping, (b) grief, (c) guilt, and (d) Tumblr. A rich and fulfilling life.
I only have a month left in the program, though, so coming back next spring or summer to finish up should hopefully be really doable. Once I’ve had a change of pace and time to get my head back on straight and a few disaster free months under my belt.
Told my parents I’m going to take a leave of absence (barring any unlikely eventualities), which I guess makes it official.
I’m disappointed-relieved-tired-nervous-excited-depressed. But since I’ve been disappointed-tired-nervous-depressed for a month (well, four months) (well, eight months) now, that’s really an overall improvement.
I just have to commit very firmly to coming back. I’ve…never done anything like this before and I never wanted to. *sigh*
