This is a distillation of experience.
So my day is set,
I’ll smoke something
and walk around.

— Joshua Beckman

On the way to work this past week.  Have always liked the way these signs stagger, so I finally took a picture.  (I wish the last one was more clear, however.  It’s the sign for King Noodle, about the best place to go for brothy soup in the cold months.)

On the way to work this past week.  Have always liked the way these signs stagger, so I finally took a picture.  (I wish the last one was more clear, however.  It’s the sign for King Noodle, about the best place to go for brothy soup in the cold months.)

Grey Sky/ Neighbor House ‘14

Grey Sky/ Neighbor House ‘14

Dream Woman, Victoria Legrand
(I’ll do anything for you.)

Dream Woman, Victoria Legrand

(I’ll do anything for you.)

Beach House, “Gila”

Perfect music for the rainy day we’re having in the PNW.

I love Victoria Legrand, with her forlorn voice/ witchy hair/ black magic church ritual keyboard fingers.

The Englishman was feeling very amorously toward me last night, and he paid for me to get a cab ride home, which no one has ever done for me before.  He asked me to articulate the difference between radical feminism and feminism, which is one of my favorite things to explain.  He wanted me to come back to his place with him, an invitation I declined twice, not because I didn’t want to have sex with him, but because I’m bleeding from between my legs.  (The first time I have sex with a person is not going to be the time I let them inhale the most intimate smell of my body.)  I also informed him that I prefer having freshly shaved legs when I have intercourse with a veritable stranger, and I didn’t have time to perform that act pre-date.  He said, “Well, I shaved,” and then gave me a look that suggested he wasn’t referring to his face. 

(Source: dddreamy)

I’ve been under so much stress at work this week, and all I could think was, I better not get a big fucking zit because of this.  Of course that thought only worked to increase my level of anxiety. I have a date tomorrow night, which I have been very much looking forward to, with a 48-year-old Englishman.  Canceling because of acne would’ve meant a really depressing night at home.  That’s what I would have done, though: canceled if the mark became too much to b(e)ar/e.  My insecurity is such that it cannot take any additional hits in the days preceding a date with a man. 

It’s a terrible burden, this insecurity. 

modestdemidov:

lacigreen:

thephotogfeminist:

burningbells:

imageIf you need Plan B, here’s a printable $10 off coupon. 

It doesn’t expire either! It’s a continual offer

HELPFUL THING

reblogging this again because this shit is 50$

I’m grateful for Plan B.  It has saved me from having to get, like, 6 abortions.

(via highfemmelowbrow)

I think it’d be really cool to have a lot more confidence in myself.