This is a distillation of experience.

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.

just be your selfie, an art installation by Dylan Neuwirth
Occidental Park, Seattle

just be your selfie, an art installation by Dylan Neuwirth

Occidental Park, Seattle

The trick to drinking less is buying beer I don’t like that much. Session Lager, for example. I can barely stomach a whole bottle.

siq1:

“I do not see the relation between art and politics in terms of two separately constituted fields, art on one side and politics on the other, between which a relation would need to be established. There is an aesthetic dimension in the political and there is a political dimension in art. This is why I consider that it is not useful to make a distinction between political and non-political art… The real issue concerns the possible forms of critical art, the different ways in which artistic practices can contribute to questioning the dominant hegemony.”

— Chantal Mouffe   (via toxicwinner)

(Source: 1109-83)

This building used to be the drabbest gray.  I pass by it five days a week, to and from work.  Before it was repainted I would think that building is so ugly every time I walked past it.  Then, one morning about a month ago, I rounded the corner by the Buddhist temple, and - lo and behold!  A person had made it beautiful. 
I can just tell the building feels better.  It was kind of slumping before, but now it stands straighter, with neater corners.  It has a name now, Eternal Spring, which I like very much. 

This building used to be the drabbest gray.  I pass by it five days a week, to and from work.  Before it was repainted I would think that building is so ugly every time I walked past it.  Then, one morning about a month ago, I rounded the corner by the Buddhist temple, and - lo and behold!  A person had made it beautiful. 

I can just tell the building feels better.  It was kind of slumping before, but now it stands straighter, with neater corners.  It has a name now, Eternal Spring, which I like very much. 

I guess you could say that I like to drink my money.

My spirit animal is a tuna salad sandwich.

"When did ‘feminism’ become a word that spoke not just to you, but spoke you, that spoke of your existence or even spoke you into (italics mine) existence?  The sound of it, your sound?  How do we gather by gathering around this word, sticking to each other by sticking to it?  What did it mean, what does it mean, to hold onto ‘feminism,’ to fight under its name; to feel in its ups and downs, in its coming and goings, one’s own ups and downs, one’s own comings and goings?”

-Sara Ahmed, “Feminist Killjoys (And Other Willful Subjects)”