March 2012
foxinthesnow23:
sometimes I feel like people think of me as consent girl.
I don’t mean that in a self-righteous way, but sometimes I feel like people are afraid to touch me without explicit permission. I’ve had a lot of interactions where a friend has seemed super hesitant to touch me, or has apologized…
i like this. this is true.
next time i see you i will cuddle you also i am like you and wish to be cuddled so y’all should just all cuddle me and we should all cuddle each other all the tiiiiiiime
i’ve been hella productive this week (big linguistic project, a ton of reading, applying for two internships (which involved asking four people to be recs for me, a big deal!), went to every humplay rehearsal (even if i didn’t stay the whole time for one of them), had three dress rehearsals for the vagina monologues, and took care of all of my financial aid things!)
SO
i’m gonna go and watch a movie and then go out to dinner and then watch a play and then go to a friend’s birthday party because today is my day of rest, goddammit
Lost Grrrls: Dear Nice Guy Syndrome,
Please go fuck yourself. Get fucked. Go away forever and never come back. This shit drives me into such terrible and ridiculous fits of rage. Anytime I see a “nice guy” complain about the trifflin’ girl that “friend zone’d” him, that girls are only into jerks, that she’s just a…
lottery cohort 15 and i was hoping to get an rca or birchwood
woof
isn’t there anyone who wants to live with me in a house/apartment next year?
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you can do it gibbles ! just think about how i am filming a documentary of people reading texts my brother sends me and how you get to watch it and cry laughing in the near future
wait seriously THAT IS THE BEST THING I HAVE HEARD ALL DAY I AM SO EXCITED
- Courtney Martin (via creatingaquietmind)
I love this.
(via hamncheezr)
this kind of tears me apart a little bit inside
(via foxinthesnow23)
TOO TRUE
(via harmlessinsanity)
the patriarchy has no sons, only daughters
So, Reed acceptance letters/emails/calls went out yesterday and it seems like an unusual number of people got waitlisted. I figured that this was probably due to an increase in applications because of recent Reed publicity (Steve Jobs, Blue Like Jazz), but I had no idea how significant the increase in numbers actually was. According to unofficial numbers from the Reed Admissions office the number of applications increased from 3,000 to 10,000 this year! I’m not exactly sure how yield calculations are made, but I’ll assume that the same number of people were accepted this year as last year, and a ton of people were put on the waitlist just in case yield was funky. Following this assumption Admission rate will have decreased from 39% last year to 12% this year! WHAT?! Could this be true?! What does this mean?!?! are we famous?
h
holy
whaaaaaaaaat
the internship i thought i had waited too long to apply for is still hiring
everything is okaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy
-________________-
MAYBE I’M JUST CRAZY BECAUSE I’VE BEEN IN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS; MAYBE I’M JUST TOOOO SENSITIVE AND NOT RATIONAL ENOUGH, but those people fucking suck and deserve to be hurt 10x more than they’ve been hurt. Fuck them/fuck everything/love everyone else.Cool.
INTENT VERSUS IMPACT
I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOUR INTENT WAS, YOUR IMPACT WAS SHITTY AND THAT’S WHAT I’M UPSET ABOUT
signing an e-mail with “gabbie”
professor responds with “gabby,”
you’ve known me for a year and a half now, come on.
but i guess it’s better than the time i signed with “gabbie” and the professor responded with, “hi heather,”
Old Boys
by Cristin O’Keefe AptowiczI would’ve never believed that I’d forget you:
the sound of your laugh, the size of your hands,
that one day I’d have to rub my forehead
like a genie’s lamp to pull out your last name.
I would have slit my tender paten to pulp
to shake bloody and swear that one day
we would share a last name, or at least
a flamboyantly oversized prom picture.
But now, I could form a terrible band
with all the boys I thought would pant
their presence forever on my heart, but
instead evaporated almost completely,
leaving only the tease of our nicknames,
the soft ghost of their favorite tee-shirt,
and the dusty ordinary ellipse of what
could have been.