“It doesn’t much matter what line of argument you take as a woman. If you venture into traditional male territory, the abuse comes anyway. It’s not what you say that prompts it—it’s the fact that you are saying it.”—
Mary Beard, speaking at the British Museum in February. Rebecca Meadprofiles the Cambridge academic and “troll slayer” in this week’s issue. (via newyorker)
I’m posty tonight, but the last couple of days have been very “This is why we need feminism, you fuckwits” so you get some more.
what time and date is it there: 11:13 pm on Sunday, August 31st
average hours of sleep i get each night: 6
otps: Dr. Forrester and TV’s Frank
the last thing i googled was: otps
my most used phrase(s): That’s my purse! I don’t know you!
first word that comes to mind: Uh what
what i last said to a family member: "Jim says ‘I think they call it a mumble of Jims.’"
one place that makes me happy & why: Our home, because it’s our home
how many blankets i sleep under: one, but my arms and feet have to be uncovered.
favourite beverage: Any super bitey ginger ale.
the last movie i watched in the cinema: I honestly can’t remember. Probably the last Harry Potter movie.
three things i can’t live without: Quiet, comedy, cats
something i plan on learning: as much as I can
a piece of advice for all my followers: Think of the person you love most. The next time you’re beating yourself up for something you did or didn’t do, imagine that they were in the situation instead. Imagine what you would say to them and how you would treat them. Then treat yourself the same way.
you all have to listen to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtJIihnHjAg (she laughs when I pretend to fall)
Say five things you like about yourself, publicly, then send this to ten of your favorite followers
heckascootie sent a message asking me to do this thing. I’m going to do it and not worry about sounding conceited or something which is how I usually feel when I talk about something I like about myself. Here goes!
I’m pretty fucking funny. I’ve made people cry off their makeup and do spit-takes. It’s awesome.
I make stuff that’s pretty neat, like cross stitch samplers and cupcakes and felt eyeballs and paper robots.
I try new stuff even when it’s scary, because some of the best things that have ever happened to me happened when I started doing scary stuff.
I tell people exactly what’s on my mind. I don’t hide how I’m feeling or what I want, like, or dislike because I’m afraid of hurting someone or getting in trouble. It took me years of therapy and heartache to get to this point. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself and the people in my life.
I read several dozen stories a year from miserable, lonely guys who insist that women won’t come near them despite the fact that they are just the nicest guys in the world.
..I’m asking what do you offer? Are you smart? Funny? Interesting? Talented? Ambitious? Creative? OK, now what do you do to demonstrate those attributes to the world? Don’t say that you’re a nice guy — that’s the bare minimum.
“Well, I’m not sexist or racist or greedy or shallow or abusive! Not like those other douchebags!”
I’m sorry, I know that this is hard to hear, but if all you can do is list a bunch of faults you don’t have, then back the fuck away..
..Don’t complain about how girls fall for jerks; they fall for those jerks because those jerks have other things they can offer. “But I’m a great listener!” Are you? Because you’re willing to sit quietly in exchange for the chance to be in the proximity of a pretty girl (and spend every second imagining how soft her skin must be)? Well guess what, there’s another guy in her life who also knows how to do that, and he can play the guitar. Saying that you’re a nice guy is like a restaurant whose only selling point is that the food doesn’t make you sick. You’re like a new movie whose title is This Movie Is in English, and its tagline is “The actors are clearly visible”.
“Being fat carries with it a lot of cultural baggage. At the same time, fat people, especially fat women, are supposed to pretend we don’t exist or that we’re not fat. I can’t count the number of times thin people have made reference to fat people or fatness in a negative or joking way in front of me, from the petite woman sitting next to me at the coffee shop complaining about fat people on airplanes, to my friends who routinely make jokes about their “inner fat kids” coming out when they eat a lot, to the women in my family who compete to see who can look the thinnest in family photos. Sometimes it feels like I’m not even there, or that I’m not supposed to be. - Lisa C. Knisely”—http://bitchmagazine.org/article/its-not-me-its-you-dating-while-fat-louie (via fresafresca)
“Look, I haven’t just SAID more offensive things than you ever will, I’ve also stitched them into beautiful samplers and hung them on the wall.”—Work Wife’s brother made it his goal to offend me at the wedding last Friday night. He did not succeed.
I had 2 wisdom teeth taken out a couple days ago. I've only been able to eat soft foods. My diet the last few days has been yogurt, jello, pudding, apple sauce, and milk shakes. I feel like an old man. The end.