Thursday, April 17, 2014

Sometimes when I go to write “why this” I write “why thus” by accident and almost like it better

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

I was offered an internship! It’s doing photography for a wedding florist, so that’s pretty cool.

strongpursuits:

thinsquids:

awwww-cute:

Tatiana, a resident in the village of Szack, Ukraine, and her horse

I’m not sure why I like this picture so much

love.

strongpursuits:

thinsquids:

awwww-cute:

Tatiana, a resident in the village of Szack, Ukraine, and her horse

I’m not sure why I like this picture so much

love.

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse.
At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride.
Like a girl.

Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed,
and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it,
because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices.
But then he laughed again and all I saw
was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek
before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist.
(my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.)

When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later
him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles,
I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet
that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously
just because I’m a girl.

Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big.
Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary.
Be small and smooth with soft edges
and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts:
the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having,
the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission.

Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small
when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car,
because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway.
We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street
who see us as convenient bodies instead of people.

Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft,
so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling,
pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are.
We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths,
because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions
blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get
condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls.

Once, I got told I punched like a girl.
I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle. (via lovepmmimi)

(Source: theappleppielifestyle)

fangpants:

Why do dudes always wanna know your bra size tho, what are they gonna do, buy you bras?? Cause that would be very helpful bras cost a lot of money i would save a fortune

Velociraptor sign in the CWG basement at school #100happydays #day21

Velociraptor sign in the CWG basement at school #100happydays #day21

Tuesday, April 15, 2014
I appreciate Sammi a LOT

I appreciate Sammi a LOT

IT WAS LITERALLY 70 THIS MORNING