Getting back in touch with my country roots tonight! Can’t wait to see some good ol’ boys. :)
Happy Saturday, Tumblr! ♥
Men who want to flirt with women have to realize: Women live in a state of continual vigilance about sexual safety. It’s like having a mild case of hay fever that never goes away. It’s not debilitating. You’re not weak. You’re not afraid. You just suck it up and get on with your life. It’s nothing that’s going to stop you from making discoveries, or climbing mountains, or falling in love. Sometimes you can almost forget about it. It doesn’t mean it’s not there, subtly sucking your energy. You learn to avoid situations that make it worse and seek out conditions that make it better.
If a female stranger is wary around you, it is not because she suspects you are a rapist, or that all men are rapists. It’s because a general level of circumspection is what vigilance requires. Don’t take it personally.
If this frustrates you, try to remember that women are blamed for lapsed vigilance. If a woman does get raped, everyone rushes to see where she let her guard down. Was she drinking? Was she alone? Was she wearing a short skirt? Did she go to a strange man’s room for coffee at 4am?
A woman must be seen to be vigilant as well as be vigilant. If she is deemed insufficiently vigilant, she will be at least partly blamed for any sexual violence that befalls her. If she’s regarded as downright reckless, that “evidence” can be used to completely exonerate her rapist. If it comes down to a he said/she said dispute over whether sex was consensual, as so many rape cases do, the dispute becomes a referendum on whether the woman seems like the sort of reckless person who would have sex with a stranger.
If a woman does go back to a strange man’s hotel room at 4am, even if she only wants a coffee and conversation, she’s more or less given him the power to rape her. No jury is going to believe she went up there for anything but sex. So, don’t be surprised if a stranger reacts badly to that suggestion.
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Attention, Space Cadets: Do Not Proposition Women in the Elevator I wish I didn’t need to reblog stuff like this. I wish people *got it*. But judging from the ridiculous response to these posts, stuff like this clearly still needs to be repeated. (via lavender-labia) This actually made me cry. Ugh. (via m0nikered) This is for every guy who’s ever looked at me sideways when I (try to) nonchalantly exit an elevator if I’m the only female present. |
WRITE ME A LETTER (anonymous or not)
Dear ______,
I ____ you. You have a nice ______. You make me _______. You
should _______. Someday I will ______. You + me = ________.
If I saw you now I’d __________. I want to ________ you. I
would build a _______ just
for you. If I could sing you any song it would be _________.
We could __________ under the stars.
Love,
_______________
(P.S. ______________.)
Dear Caroline,
I’m glad I know you. You have a nice way of helping me laugh off Murphys’s Law. You make me not feel so bad about how sad my life is. You should tell “Dr.” Castellano to kindly STFU next time she defends the psychiatrist without knowing the diagnostic criteria for whatever disorder she is arguing against. Someday I will tell all of those bitches in the office exactly what think about them. You + me = RULE!
If I saw you now I’d laugh because this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve written in a long time. I want to out-drink you. I would build a bonfire just for you. If I could sing you any song it would be whatever song it is I have stuck in my head because I’m going to be singing it anyway.
We could pass out under the stars.
Love,
Sarah
(P.S. We need to start documenting all of the daily bullshit we put up with so I’ll have plenty of material to work with when I write my book about those random events that make our lives more difficult on a regular basis.)
(Source: rachelbakeher)
A dear friend of mine is getting ready to leave for Basic Training today.
I hate that he feels like the only thing worthwhile he can do with his life is something so dangerous, but I’m proud of him for following through with his plans!
I can’t wait to see what amazing things await him!!
I’m heading to the airport to pick up my mom! :D
It’s going to be so great to spend the next couple of days with her. I’m incredibly lucky that she’s able to drop everything and fly down here when I feel like my life is crumbling down around me.
![From Brew at the Zoo [Parking Lot], but really though, it wasn’t inside the zoo.
❤](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3frhe5Bj61qzaem0o1_1280.jpg)
Every now and then - especially when I come to a milestone - I go through these phases wherein I just so depressed. Completing yet another semester is one of those times.
I’m so lucky to have been given the opportunity to follow my dreams, but sometimes it’s incredibly difficult because I don’t understand why I’m still here and my best friend isn’t. I did just as many stupid, reckless things as she did - hell, I talked her into most of the craziest things she got into. It’s all so unfair that Jessica’s life was cut short. I know that car accident changed me forever. I’d experienced many deaths of friends (there used to be a saying that if you were from St. Albans you didn’t get to live to be 25), but hers was different. It all just seemed impossible. She was the kind of person who had fire in her veins. I had resigned myself to living out the rest of my days in the same small town where I was born, but she wouldn’t have it. She didn’t care what the cost, she was bound and determined to do whatever it took to get out of WV and live near the beach. It almost happened for her, too. We were 22 and she met these people who lived in Tampa, FL. They all got along, so she decided to move down there with them until she was able to get established. She was over-the-moon about the move - to have a fresh start away from the mountains that she found so oppressive and the abusive boyfriend she could just never seem to break away from completely. While she was getting everything set up with her new friends in Tampa, they decided to spend the day at the beach since she was coming home the next day to pick up the last of her things. I spoke to her to congratulate her again on the new, amazing journey she was going to be starting, and an hour later her friend caused a 7-car-pile-up and she was dead.
This song always reminds me of her because I think about her often. I wonder what she’d be like if she would’ve come back to WV the next day as planned. There’s a rumor that her ex-boyfriend was going to surprise her at the airport and propose - would she have said yes or continued her life in FL? Would she have finally found the satisfaction that always seemed to elude her? What would I be like if she was still around? Would I have slowed down and decided to get serious about my life or kept up the same reckless behavior that killed her?
I hate that someone who had such a passion for life is gone. I hate that her life was taken just as she was finally getting all she’d worked for for so many years. I hate that she’s missing out on everything.
Sunny days seem to hurt the most.
I wear the pain like a heavy coat.
The only thing that gives me hope,
Is I know I’ll see you again some day.
Finding myself living in S. FL, 10 minutes away from the ocean is it’s own special form of cruel irony. I never wanted to live here. This was her dream, so I’m trying to make the most of it. God knows she’d be pissed if she had any idea the amount of time I spend inside instead of out, experiencing all living down here has to offer. I should probably do something about that.
Bear with me, these next couple of may be rough.
I’m baccccccckkk!!(To my hyper-driver, super-motivated self again.)
I’ve been in an active costo flare since the last week of February, which was horrible enough. To top it off, I contracted food poisoning last week that left me so dehydrated that I needed an IV. This time last week I was seriously reconsidering my decision to come to NSU for this degree: I was completely (and still kind of am) overwhelmed, lonely, dejected, tired, and kind of over most of the people in my program because of the backbiting and paranoia that’s becoming increasingly more common. More than anything, though, I lost my spark (for lack of a better word). I’ve always loved and been fascinated by most things psychology related, but I found myself utterly disinterested in everything - just going through the motions to try to survive this semester so I could get the hell out of there for a bit. Upperclassmen have told me that second year is the roughest at CPS, but I’d never experienced anything like this.
This week, I’ve taken on 4 new projects. It’s actually pretty out of control if I stop to think about it, but they’re all such awesome opportunities that there’s no way I could turn them down. It feels so good to be excited about things again! One of my professors approached me about doing some research with him after I gave a presentation about the topic (which is pretty unheard of, so I definitely can’t say no to that opportunity), then I came up with this amazing idea for a long-term research endeavor that my advisor and I are both stoked about. I also decided to spear-head a positive psychology project for training teachers in ways to implement more strengths-based material into their curriculum. Oh, and I’m supposed to start co-facilitating substance abuse groups for homeless teens in a couple of weeks.
AH. That sounds insane.
It doesn’t even matter. I love all of those projects and can’t wait for this semester to end next week so I can get started on them!
Last night I was studying with a friend and she gave me one of the best compliments I’ve ever received. I’m horrible at accepting compliments because I don’t see myself as being even as good as most people in my program, much less as being someone that is perceived as being on top of her game. Anyway, last night she got really serious and told me that she thinks that out of everyone in our program, she thinks that I’m the one who will do the most good. I’m really not trying to make myself competitive or anything. I’m just really passionate about people. All I’ve ever wanted to do is to help make the world a better place - for anyone. I don’t care how many people I affect, as long as it’s one.
The moments that have made me feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be have been very few and far between in this program. It definitely seems like it’s as much a test of endurance as it is of skill and intellect, so burn out happens fast - especially when you feel like a dunce so much of the time. Hearing the sincerity with which she gave me that compliment meant means more to me than almost any other compliment I’ve ever received.
It feels so good to be back! :D
Josh and I have been talking about getting tattoos that match or go together or something along those lines for a few weeks now. I’d never get his name on me - I think it’s super cliche and is asking for the universe to destroy your relationship - but I’d love something that’s symbolic of our relationship since he’s such an integral part of my existence.
Anyway, I think we’ve decided to get anchors! The one thing we’ve always had in common with each other is that we both keep each other from going off the rails. He’s rescued me from self destruction a few times throughout our 12 years together and I’ve done the same for him.
I’m pretty excited about getting these, but I have no idea when it’s gonna happen. Hopefully, we’ll get around to it soon!
People can be so amazing some times.
My friend’s parents are incredible.
They’ve been one of the greatest sources of support I’ve had throughout the past 10 years or so. I’ve known them since I was about 8 years old, but I didn’t get close to them until I started waiting tables in my hometown’s diner.They would come into the restaurant a couple times a week and always sat in my section. I guess having “regulars” is one of the best things about living in a small town.
Anyway, I’ve undergone a ton of remodeling over the years and they have been there to encourage me almost every step of the way: when I dropped out of college, got married, went back to college, had to move back in with my parents because Josh was laid off. They were proud of me when I graduated with my degrees and some of my loudest cheerleaders when I decided to give this whole graduate school thing a try. I’m not sure all programs require this, but Nova requires students to pay a down-payment to hold your spot when you decide to commit to their program. I can’t remember how much the deposit was right now, but it was more than I had laying around at the time, so they offered to pay it for me because they didn’t want money to be the barrier that kept me from following my dreams.
Most importantly, they have been there almost as much as my own family throughout every one of my costo flares. Here’s the part where they renew my faith in humanity: Her dad is a pharmacologist, so when he heard about my latest bout with costo he had some of his research assistants perform a literature review based on me. ❤
Seriously. How sweet is that?
I’m not sure whether or not the articles will be helpful for me, but I really don’t care. Don’t get me wrong, it’d be awesome if they help — but the most important thing to me is that they cared enough to do proper research on my behalf.
I feel so lucky to have such wonderful people in my life.
[Sorry if this is one big rambling mess - my meds kicked in while I was writing it.]
I don’t even know how to describe how humiliated I feel.
Josh just came home from work to find me crying, in the fetal position, on our kitchen floor.
I’m not sure what caused it, but I was walking into the kitchen to grab my meds when all of a sudden a huge wave of pain pierced through my chest. I haven’t felt that kind of pain in years. It literally made me drop to the floor to hold my chest, then I couldn’t get up. I don’t know how long I was there…10, maybe 15 minutes.
I don’t know what’s worse the physical pain or the way I feel so broken.
Fuck my life. No, fuck you, Costo, I want my life back. Now.
