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motherbychoice

Care to debate abortion?

Nah

reproductivejusticeandliberty

Mood. -V

kiwianaroha

This reminds me of a party I went to last year. I was standing with some friends, chatting, and someone said something that indirectly implied that sexism exists. Some trivial recounting of the basic facts of daily life for most women. Something so mild, so uncontroversial, so mundane that I don’t even remember what it was.

Suddenly, this man standing on the outskirts of our conversational circle piped up with “actually, I think men are more discriminated against than women these days.”

All conversation died.

I turned to look at him and he had this smug, insufferable grin on his face, relishing this moment, expecting us to waste our time and energy refuting this ridiculous thing he had just said.

The Devil’s Advocate was among us.

And, in my mind, I saw the next 15+ minutes playing out. The parade of facts and statistics in a vain attempt to defend ourselves, our gender, and to prove that misogyny is real. The glib, snide denials from some shithead who is getting off on our pain and frustration. The Gish Gallop of bullshit that would take a whole evening to properly dismantle. It was depressing and overwhelming. I hated it. I had to kill it before it began.

So I looked him dead in the eye and I said “OK,“ shrugged, and just walked away.

Nothing I have ever said to another human being has ever been so crushing. As I walked away, I watched the smug grin vanish and confusion and anxiety set in. The rest of the group turned their backs to him and carried on as if he had never spoken - as if he was invisible. He was still staring at me when I walked over to another friend and told her what he had said. I pointed him out for her and made direct eye contact with him while we both laughed.

tl;dr: Don’t feed the troll. Let it perish, cold and hungry, in the wasteland of your indifference. It is weak and you are strong. Live your best life.

stay-the-knight

This has been fucking with me all week because my coworker has a friend from California who said that if you have a basement it means you're rich??? So

Is it bougie to have a basement

Yes, I'm from California

Yes, I'm not from California

No, I'm from California

No, I'm not from California

I abstain/show results

Voting ended onMay 9, 2023

grison-in-space

In Texas the only people with basements were bougie as hell because in the city I was in, you had four inches of solid clay, then you were into the limestone. AND the frequent microquakes would slowly start to undo the structural integrity of your house if you blasted one out of the bedrock anyway.

Now in Minnesota everyone has basements and frankly I love that for us. I'm standing in my nice cool basement right now.

doomspaniels

In Florida, the only homes with basements are carefully preserved historic homes. They were built by people who didn't yet know the water table was too high for basements, or with too much money to care. They're fragile and need continuous pumping, occasional expensive repair, and you can't even just fill them with concrete or something because it would eventually eat your foundation; you have to keep them dry once they're there, or tear down the house.

Bougie? Oh yes.

little-miss-rasputin-pageant

i live in california and i've never once been to a house that has a basement

miniar

I live in Iceland. Basements are practically standard. If you can afford to own or rent a house, you are very likely to have a basement. I do not have a basement, but I used to have storage in the basement of the old house where my apartment I was renting was up on the second floor, though to be fair, that basement wasn't fully below the ground level. I grew up in a house with two flats and a Massive basement. Even if you live in an apartment building there's usually basement storage and possibly even a parking basement. You're more bougie over here if you have a garage.

spacelazarwolf

i live in the midwest and it’s pretty normal to have a basement, especially if there are frequent tornadoes in your area. even if you live in an apartment building, there’s most likely going to be a basement in the building.

fauxsmilesforall

I’m in CA and here it is Weird to have a basement, due to seismic activity. But our rental house is from the 60’s, so its old by CA terms. The basement has 2 sump pumps to keep the water table from invading. And even this year our basement flooded 3” due to incessant rains and busted pumps.

I do not like the basement.

o-kurwa

assiraphales

anyways (I say this as someone who is deeply critical of the united states government, military, unchecked capitalism, police, etc) I am SICK of people treating america as if it has no cultural value or positives so….. I love u 85 million acres (bigger than italy) of national parks. I love u harlem renaissance. I love u groundhogs day. I love u sweet tea and fried chicken and jambalaya. I love u apple cider donuts and maizes on crisp autumn days. I love u 95k miles of coastlines and new england fisherman and hand knitted sweaters. I love u halloween where millions of people dress up and give candy to strangers and carve jack o’lanterns. I love u small talk and small towns and potlucks and bringing over casseroles to your struggling neighbors. I love u cowboys and ranch hands and arizonian cactus. I love u appalachian trail and dirtbikes and divebars. I love u sparklers and fireflies. I love u mark twain and toni morrison and emily dickinson and henry david thoreau. I love u rock n roll i love u bluegrass and hippies i love u jimi hendrix and nirvana and CCR and janis joplin. I love u victorian houses and jonny appleseed and john henry and mothman and bigfoot. I love u foggy days in the pacific northwest and neon signs and roadside attractions. I love u baseball and 1950s diners and soft serve. I love u native american art and pop art and poptarts. I love u blue jeans and barbecues and jazz musicians

min0uze

Xenk tries his best to answer Ed’s question 😌🪱💕

#ohh thats nice

thefugitivesaint

Happy May Day all. Solidarity and all that jazz. For your brain, some history on May Day and how it came to be: 1. The Zinn Education Project: May 4, 1886: Haymarket Tragedy

2. IWW Historical Archives: The Brief Origins of May Day

3. NPR : What is May Day? For the most part, the opposite of capitalism

itznarcotic

thyrell

i went to Mad At You Island and um. theres some british kids doing really scary shit to a pig head

inkskinned

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#god damn #that constant struggle between who my brain is and who i am to everyone else #how am i supposed to function whem y happiest days are with dirt under my fingernails 5 miles up a dirt road #and monday morning i gotta get up brfore the sun #shower in scaling water to loosen my joints #and no scream into my coffee

sackboys-moved

When someone says something reminded them of you. You know

homunculus-argument

Imagine if people only worked six months out of the year. Half the people would be winter workers who choose to grind through the dark months and then chill and play during the summer, and half of the people would be ones who would rather work through the warm season and then rest and hibernate in peace over the winter, more or less free to choose whichever you like.

There would be families with a strong identity about which season they work in, and people who say that someone "has only ever worked one season" as a way to imply that someone isn't adventurous by nature. There would be parents who agree to take turns working opposite seasons, so one of them can always be at home with the kids, and old folks who lament that their adult children and niblings were Forced By Circumstance to work opposite seasons from them, while the youths in question welcome the work as an excuse to avoid these inconvenient relatives.

You never know if the construction worker up at 6 am in the summer spends their winters writing murder mysteries, or if the winter shift librarian spends their summer cultivating a rare breed of heirloom apples. Or simply meditating, observing nature, living quietly and baking bread. Asking someone "what do you do in your free season?" tells as much, if not more, about the person than "what do you do for a living?" And nobody answers "nothing". Everyone can think of something that they want to do, perhaps not productive, but still enlightening, constructive and cultivating.

Nobody who is in full health and well rested can stand spending half of the year simply doing absolutely nothing.

#this sounds so nice #can we split seasons?#so i work in winter and summer?#then i can sow and harvest #only work 3 months at a time

fast-and-fit-sam

Hey runners (and walkers)! Thought this might be helpful :)

motivationforfitness

Shoelace Voodoo

coconuts-and-crunches-deactivat

The heel slipping one is awesome if you have to wear orthotics because it stops them from slipping round inside your shoe

thededfa

Oh! I’ll have to try this

feanor-the-dragon

oh my god. oh, oh my god. the wide forefoot one… oh my god bless you you beautiful hero

white-throated-packrat

Ian’s Shoelace Site – https://www.fieggen.com/shoelace/ – is the page for all these lacing patterns and more.

ms-demeanor

He’s got specific lacing advice for skates and tall boots and there are decorative patterns and I recently relaced my skate shoes for both a wide forefoot and less friction on the laces so it’s easier to tighten and loosen them but he also has lace-locking patterns so that shoes stay exactly as tight as you laced them the first time and it is just a VERY GOOD website.

Like. I’ve been buying shoes the wrong size because it’s often hard to find wide shoes but the lacing pattern for a wide forefoot means that my big hobbit feet actually fit into the previously too-tight running shoes and sneakers I had.

#i’ll have to try the wide forefoot on my hiking boots #$100 for boots i literally despise because they’re not wide enough #if this helps i’ll be amped