being undead has its benefits

My name is Pickles and I am a zombie. This is where I profess my love for everything. Things I love include but are not limited to: feminism, crossfit, doctor who, art, ponies, zombies, zombie ponies, tattoos, cats, and beer.

[noivern]

self care is valid and good, but at some point you gotta step back and check that you’re actually truly caring for yourself, which sometimes means bullying yourself into getting up and getting air and light, and eating healthy, and doing the things you dont really want to do but you know are good for you. sometimes taking naps and letting yourself off are the best options to be good to yourself, but sometimes theyre not, and you should be careful about it.

[ibelieveyouitsnotyourfault]

It Was Easier to Give in Than Keep Running

By Anonymous

In first grade, a boy named John— a notorious troublemaker—systematically chased every girl in our class during recess trying to kiss her on the lips. Most gave in eventually. It was easier to give in than keep running. When it was my turn, I turned and faced him, grabbed his glasses off his weasel face, and stomped on them on the hard blacktop. He ran to the principal’s office and cried.

In fifth grade, I was asked to be a boy’s girlfriend over email. It was the first email I ever received. He actually told me he wanted to send me an email, so I went home and made an AOL account. We went to a carnival and he won me a Garfield stuffed animal, and then he gave me a 3 Doors Down CD. A few days later, he broke up with me, and asked for Garfield and the CD back. I said no.

In sixth grade, a girl in my year gave head to an eighth grader in the back of the school bus while playing Truth or Dare.

In the summer after sixth grade, I kissed a boy for the first time at sleep away camp. He was my summer love. During the end-of-the-summer dining hall announcements, where kids usually announced lost sweatshirts and Walkmen, an older girl stepped up to the microphone, tossed her hair behind her shoulders, and proudly stated, “I lost something very precious to me last night. My virginity. If anyone finds it, please let me know.” The dining hall erupted into laughter and cheers. She was barred from ever coming back to the camp again, and wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to anyone.

In seventh grade, I told my brother I decided when I was older wanted a Hummer. What I really meant was I wanted a Jeep, but I didn’t know a lot about cars. My mother overheard and screamed at me for “wanting a Hummer.”

In the summer after freshman year of high school, I went to sleepaway field hockey camp with many of my close friends. One of them, named Megan, I had been friends with since kindergarten. One night when I was showering, she ripped open the curtain and snapped a photo of me on her disposable camera. I screamed. She laughed. We both laughed when I got out of the shower a few minutes later. After camp was over, her father took the camera to the convenience store to get it developed. When he gave the finished photos back to her, he said, “Your friend [Anonymous] has grown up.”

Sophomore year of high school, one of my best friends Hilary had a party in her basement while her mom was away. We invited some of the guys in our grade and someone’s older brother bought us a handle of vodka. One of the boys who came sat next to me in Spanish class. His name was Thomas. I remember playing a simple game, where we passed the bottle of vodka around in a circle and drank. I remember being happily tipsy and having fun, to suddenly being very drunk. Thomas and I started chanting numbers in Spanish, and he leaned towards me and kissed me. We kissed in the middle of the party, with all of our friends cheering. Then we went into Hilary’s bedroom.

Hilary’s bedroom was in the basement, on the ground floor, with a large window next to her bed. When someone went outside to smoke a cigarette, they realized it was a front row seat to what was happening in the bedroom. It was dark outside, and the light on was in the bedroom. They called everyone outside to watch. I don’t remember getting undressed, but apparently we were both completely naked in Hilary’s bed. A friend of mine told me later she tried to open the door and stop what was happening, but Thomas must have locked it. They said they pounded on the door. I don’t remember hearing them pounding. I don’t remember seeing everyone’s faces outside the window.  I remember Thomas holding my head down, and shoving his penis into my mouth. I remember trying to resist, pulling back, but he held his hands firmly on my head, pushing my face up and down. That’s all that I remember.

The next day, my friends and I went out to dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. I couldn’t eat anything, and it wasn’t because I was hung over. Every time I tried to put food in my mouth, I felt like I was choking. Anytime a flash of the night before appeared in my mind, I felt like vomiting. My friends sat with me in silence. Then they told me a girl named Lindsey, who had briefly dated Thomas freshman year, had stood outside and watched the entire time. Even after everyone else stopped watching. My friends said they didn’t watch.

On Monday, Thomas and I sat next to each other in Spanish. We didn’t speak. We didn’t make eye contact. I went to the girls bathroom and threw up. I hear Lindsey and Thomas live together, now, ten years later.

Junior year of high school, my teacher for Honors Spanish was named Señor Gonzales. Señor Gonzales had all of the girls sit in the front row. Señor Gonzales called on any girl who was wearing a skirt to write on the chalkboard. Señor Gonzales asked a friend of mine, who had broken her finger playing an after school sport, if she broke her finger because “she liked it rough.” Señor Gonzales was a tenured teacher.

Senior year of high school, I got my first real boyfriend. His name was Colin. He was on the lacrosse team with Thomas. He told me that sophomore year, Thomas told everyone on the team what happened that night at Hilary’s. Everyone cheered. Colin said that, even then, he had a crush on me. Even then, he wanted to punch Thomas.

Colin and I lost our virginities to each other. Colin said if I got pregnant, he would make me have the baby. He didn’t believe in abortion. Colin said if I got pregnant, he would make me have a C-section. Colin said that if I didn’t have a C-section, my vagina would be too loose for him to ever enjoy having sex with me again. Colin said that he wouldn’t let our child breastfeed. He said his mother gave him formula, and that he turned out just fine. I didn’t get pregnant.

Junior year of college, I lived in Denmark for the spring semester and studied at the University of Copenhagen. Copenhagen is one of the safest cities in the world. Guns are illegal there. Pepper spray is illegal there. One night, my friends and I went to a concert at a crowded club in a part of the city I didn’t know very well. I brought a tiny purse with money, my apartment key, and my international cell phone. For some reason it made sense at the time to put my purse inside my friend’s purse. Maybe I didn’t feel like carrying it. We were both drinking. My friend left the concert to go home with her boyfriend. One by one, everyone I was there with left the concert, until I was suddenly alone and I realized I didn’t have my purse, or any money for a cab ride home.

I started walking in the direction that felt right. I walked for a long time. I had no idea where I was, and didn’t recognize the area. It was almost 4 am. I was on a residential street when a cab pulled up next to me. I asked the driver if he could drive me to an intersection down the street from my apartment.

I don’t have any money, I said.

I really need your help, I said.

I will do it for free, he said.

Sit in the front, he said.

I sat in the front. We drove in silence for some time, until he pulled over on the side of a dark street.

I don’t want to do it for free anymore, he said.

He locked the car doors and reached across the center console and slipped his hand up my skirt. He grabbed my vagina. Hard. I pushed his hand away and unlocked the door. I ran down the street and realized he had taken me a block away from the intersection I wanted. I walked to my apartment and threw rocks at my roommate’s window until she let me inside. She yelled at me for waking her up. I escaped. Nothing happened. I was fine.

The summer after I graduated college I helped Hilary find an internship. She was an art major and wanted something for her resume besides waitressing. We found a posting on Craigslist to be a studio assistant for a painter in the Bronx. It was listed as an unpaid internship. The toll for the George Washington Bridge was twelve dollars, plus gas, but she got the internship anyway. She wanted the experience.

The artist was a 38-year-old Canadian painter named Bradley. Hilary was 22.There was another intern there, an art student from Manhattan named Stella.  Bradley needed assistants to help him make bubble wrap paintings. Stella and Hilary would take a syringe and fill the tiny bubbles with different color paints until it formed a mosaic. Bradley always had Hilary stay after Stella left to clean the paintbrushes and syringes. He told Hilary she was beautiful. More beautiful than his wife, who he only married for citizenship. He told Hilary they had a loveless marriage. He told Hilary he wanted to have her beautiful children. They began an affair. He told Hilary has wife knew and didn’t care. He told Hilary he was going to leave his wife soon.

Everyday Hilary drove to the Bronx, cleaned Bradley’s paintbrushes, and had sex on the studio floor. Everyday she went home with no money, and everyday she paid the toll at the George Washington Bridge. She needed the internship for her resume, she said. It was too late to find a new job, she said.

I could go on. I could tell you a lot more. About the whistles on the sidewalk, the kids who sat at the bottom of the stairs in high school to look up our skirts, my friend who was a prostitute in South Carolina, the men who’ve cornered me in parking lots and bars calling me a tease, the unwanted grabbing on the subway, the many times my father has called me fat, the time I traveled to the Philippines and discovered Western men pay preteen locals to spend the week in their hotel, the messages on OKCupid asking to “fart in my mouth.” About how I wasn’t sure if I had been raped because I was drunk and kissed Thomas back. How he raped my mouth and not my vagina, so that must not be rape. How easy it was for me to escape the dark street in Copenhagen, and how that made it not matter since “it could’ve been worse.”

Men have no idea what it takes to be a woman. To grin and bear it and persevere. The constant state of war, navigating the relentless obstacle course of testosterone and misogyny, where they think we are property to be owned and plowed. But we’re not. We are people, just like them. Equals, in fact, or at least that’s the core of what feminism is still trying to achieve. The job is not over. We’ve made great progress. There are female CEOs, though not very many. There are females writing for the New York Times and winning Pulitzer prizes, though not very many.  There are female politicians, though not very many. But these advances are only on paper. The job won’t be over until equality permeates the air we breathe, the streets we walk and the homes we live in.

I think back to how easy it was for me, in first grade, to feel fearless and strong in my conviction to stomp on John’s glasses. I felt right in reacting how I did, because John’s behavior was wrong. But his was an elementary learning of the wide boundaries his gender would go on to afford him. For me, it would never again be so easy.

- Anonymous, age 25

[justjessjeans-deactivated201810]

HOLY FUCK.

Read this.

[my-saladdaze-deactivated2021011]

This is very very very important.

[strmyweather]

Nutrition & Macros, as practiced by a 30-something Average Jane

I thought I’d post a little something about my personal nutritional plan these days, just because it’s been on my mind and there’s been a lot of chatter at the gym recently.

Like most of us, I’ve gone through phases with my diet. I’ve never been obese, but I’ve certainly cycled up and down through the same 20-25 pound range throughout the course of my adult life, as low as 145 lb (by running marathons, counting calories, and skipping breakfast) and as high as 170 lb (during my freshman year of college, when I became a Ben & Jerry’s cliche). As a 31-year-old CrossFitter, I’ve figured out that my ‘happy place’ in terms of scale weight is somewhere around 150-155 lb – that’s a weight where I can squat heavy AND do unbroken kipping pull-ups, snatch over 100 lb AND run a decent half marathon, eat cheat meals once in a while AND be satisfied with how I look in a bathing suit. More importantly, CrossFit has reinforced the perspective that what matters most is what my body can DO, not what it looks like; that truth has given me a solid sense of peace with my physical self on most days. (The flip side doesn’t hurt either, which is that if you can DO ten pull-ups and a 200-pound squat, you will LOOK like a person who can do those things. Form follows function – and function is way more fun to worry about than form!)

Anyhow, for a lot of reasons, I’m not quite at my ‘fighting weight’ right now, so I’ve been counting macros again for about 2-3 months. I’ve done this before, but I think this is the longest stretch for which I’ve ever been consistent. I had a big work trip that messed me up for a couple of weeks, but I’m back on track, and finally got brave enough to get on the scale the other day – where I was pleasantly surprised to discovered that I’ve dropped 7 pounds in just under 3 months. That’s exactly what I want to do – trend downward, but SLOWLY. I can tell that it’s working in other small ways, too – I did several sets of five unbroken kipping pull-ups yesterday, which I haven’t been able to do in a long time (and it didn’t even feel that hard! Going to shoot for the moon and try for 10 today…!).

At any rate, since there’s been a lot of conversation at the gym lately about macros, and I’ve fielded a lot of questions, I thought I’d share a little bit about what’s been working for me personally. Everybody’s macros are going to work out differently, because bodyweight varies and body composition goals vary even more. However, here’s the basic formula: 1. The starting point is always protein. I tend to use one gram of protein per pound of (DESIRED) bodyweight (which for me is about 150), because it makes the math easier. Some people will use slightly less, like 0.8g; other people (usually guys who are trying to gain muscle mass) might use a little more, like 1.2g. 2. After protein comes fat, which needs to be AT LEAST 25% of one’s daily intake, but can absolutely be more. Some people go as high as 40%, maybe even higher if they aren’t athletes and/or are trying to work on reducing their blood sugar. Our bodies need fat to absorb vitamins (A, D, E, and K specifically) as well as for a lot of other metabolic processes. 3. Carbs are the third and final piece of the puzzle, and basically constitute whatever’s left over of the daily allotment after figuring out the protein and fat.

Since IIFYM.com appears to have ‘sold out’ and no longer has a free macro calculator available, I’m going to do this from the ground up by relating it back to calories, which is something we’re all a little more familiar with. Basically, a gram of protein is equivalent to 4 calories, a gram of carbohydrates is also 4 calories, and a gram of fat is 9 calories. If I’m using 150g protein as my target, that equals 600 calories of pure protein. The remainder of my daily caloric allotment is for carbs and fat, and those two things can be adjusted up or down to complement one another in whatever ratio I choose, as long as fat is at least 25% of the daily intake.

Personally, I’m using a daily target of about 1800 calories… which is enough of a deficit for me to see some slow progress, but high enough to not make me want to Kill All The Things on the way there. :-) 25% of that number is 450 calories, which we divide by 9 to get a daily goal of 50g fat.

The third and final piece is carbs. 150g or 600cal protein + 50g or 450cal fat = 1050 calories so far… so I have 750 calories left over to use for carbohydrates – which, divided by 4, works out to ~188 grams.

…which, side note, continues to seem RIDICULOUS to me. If left to my own devices, I would happily eat chicken and beef and avocado and almond butter and shrimp and fish and vegetables and nuts all day long; apart from the odd sweet potato or serving of French fries, I rarely miss starchy carbs. The problem with this is that somebody who does CrossFit NEEDS carbs in order to function; I’ll confess that since switching to a higher carb intake, I experience a whole lot less muscle soreness. Which makes total sense physiologically, because insulin – the hormone that’s released when we eat carbs – serves as the metabolic ‘key’ that opens up our body’s cells and allows nutrients (LIKE PROTEIN) to enter. In short, our bodies require carbs in order to be able to ‘use’ the protein we’re giving them. I know all of this cerebrally, and yet it just doesn’t come naturally to me on a day-to-day level. Keep your chips and your bread basket; just give me the guacamole!

Anyway, all of the above means that my goals right this minute are, roughly, 190g carbs, 150g protein, and 50g fat. I tend to write the macros in that order when I track them – as in, 190-150-50 – but people can obviously do it in whatever order works for them.

So, on this plan, a typical day for me right now looks like this. (Fair warning, I am terribly lazy – or busy, depending on your point of view – and so I’ve figured out a lot of ‘shortcuts’ in terms of my food. Take it for what it’s worth.)

5:15am: wake up, 1-2 cups of black coffee. Sometimes I eat a Quest bar (25-20-5) and/or a banana (27-0-0), other times I don’t eat anything.

6:00am: CrossFit. I drink 10g of BCAAs (branched-chain amino acids) in my water throughout the session… these don’t count toward macros. They serve to spike levels of protein synthesis, meaning they help prevent muscle breakdown and promote recovery.

7:15am: home from workout. Now that my shaker bottle is empty, I dump in 8oz orange juice (26-2-0) and a heaping scoop of protein powder (5-25-1), fill it the rest of the way with water, shake, and drink. (This is one of the biggest changes I’ve made recently; I wasn’t in the habit of eating ANY carbs immediately after a workout before – bad Stormy.) This holds me over until about…

10:00am: when I’m deep into my morning seeing patients, and starting to get STARVING with zero time to stop for a leisurely meal. Confession: I rely heavily on Trader Joe’s pre-cooked chicken sausages (which have about 16g protein per piece – 3-16-6) and their pre-cooked (and peeled!) hard-boiled eggs (0-12-8 for two eggs). The sausage is pretty ‘clean’ and there are even a couple varieties that are Whole30 compliant; I like the Apple Chicken Chardonnay. One of the things I do at the beginning of each week is toss one sausage and two eggs into individual Ziploc bags – boom; breakfast. Their pre-cooked chicken breasts are another of my favorite things; macro breakdown is 0-27-5 per piece, and they’re so easy to toss on top of a salad or rice or whatever.

12:00pm: lunchtime. One of my staples is ‘crockpot chicken’, which was a favorite among my Philadelphia gym crew. It couldn’t be easier: you put 2 lb raw chicken into the crockpot (frozen is OK), dump in a whole bottle of Frank’s Red Hot and half a block of grassfed unsalted butter (like Kerrygold), or 6-8tbsp of coconut oil, and cook on low for about 4 hours. Use a couple of forks to pull it all apart around the 3-hour mark, and continue cooking for another hour or so. You end up with spicy shredded chicken that works great on salads or in lettuce wraps, and has just enough of a ‘kick’ to make it feel fancy. (I usually use chicken breast nowadays because I’m trying to keep my overall fat intake on the lower end, but chicken thighs will shred more easily and taste even better.) So another part of my weekend food preparation is to make this (or something similar), divide the pot of chicken into 6-7 Tupperware containers, and then put some frozen rice and frozen kale on top of each one. Stick ‘em in the fridge, and the frozen stuff thaws while the chicken cools. I take several containers to work at the beginning of each week and leave them in the fridge there; all I have to do is pop it in the microwave for two minutes and there’s lunch.

I calculate the macros by figuring out what’s in the whole pot and dividing by the number of servings I make. If I add rice, that’s a ‘bolus’ of 30-50g carbs to add to that meal. (I don’t generally add in the kale; veggies tend to not be ‘worth much’ in terms of numbers, so it’s easier to just leave them out.)

…confession: I still ALWAYS want a little something sweet after lunch and dinner. Ways that I get around this are: dates, figs, Trader Joe’s fruit bars (two ingredients: apple+banana or apple+strawberry are my favorites) and sometimes Quest bars (bad habit!). Dates are about 5g carbs apiece and it’s easy to just buy a giant bag at Costco and toss 4-5 of them into a few Ziploc bags to keep in my desk drawer.

The afternoon always feels LONG for me and I’m usually really hungry at some point. Sometimes I just power through, other times I give in and have a snack depending on what I’m planning for that night in terms of food or activities. Other times I can just slam a bottle of water and forget about it for a little while… it’s amazing how often I think I’m hungry when I’m actually THIRSTY.

6:30pm: dinner, which for me is usually another crockpot meal. Trader Joe’s sells bags of frozen fire-roasted peppers and onions, and it’s easy to make a delicious sausage-and-pepper stew with that plus some stewed tomatoes, rosemary, thyme, and 2-3 lb pork sausage from the deli counter. Frozen shrimp is another go-to for me, since it has a really high protein content with almost no fat. Other times I’ll dice up a couple of those Trader Joe’s pre-cooked chicken breasts and toss them on top of a green salad or a sweet potato. I LOVE all varieties of Tessemae’s dressing (very ‘clean’ and Whole30-compliant; they have an olive oil base), so I’ll have a little of that if I have enough room left in my fat allotment for the day.

I end up fighting the sugar monkey again after dinner and usually will have a few dates, sometimes a Quest bar (I swear I try to limit these, but I usually end up eating at least two in a day – I hereby warn you to do as I say, not as I do!). Sometimes I can forget about the sugar craving by having a cup of spice tea or decaf coffee. When I’m being less careful about my fat intake, a cup of spice tea with 1-2 squares of 100% Ghirardelli baking chocolate (broken up into tiny pieces) is my usual evening indulgence… the chocolate satisfies the craving while simultaneously being super bitter so that I don’t WANT to eat more than a little bit, and the spicy tea provides a nice contrast.

Anyway, to reiterate, this post is slanted toward ME and MY macros. I’m personally focusing on fat loss right now, AND I’m choosing to do that by upping my carbs and decreasing my fat intake. Someone else might do exactly the opposite and still see great results. I just know that, for me, it’s very easy to ‘crack out’ on high-fat foods, so I’m limiting myself to the lower end of the recommended fat range and making up the rest via extra carbs (which requires a lot of intentional effort!). Once I’m closer to my goal weight, I plan to alter this ratio; I’ll keep the 150g protein, but will probably eat something closer to 80g fat (=720cal, or 40% of my intake) and 120g carbs (=480cal). This still works out to 1800 calories, and would probably work just as well for fat loss for some other people, just not for me and my particular proclivities. (…Cannot wait for the GUACAMOLE! :-))

Common question: no, you don’t have to adjust the overall macros for workout vs non-workout days. That’s just way too complicated. However, you CAN adjust the carb-to-fat ratio for workout vs non-workout days (only if you want to). For me personally, I’ve learned that I have major ‘hangry’ issues when I’m relying on carbs for fuel, and am much more even-keeled emotionally when I have a protein+fat basis for my nutrition. On days when I’m not working out, I might skip the rice with my lunch and instead let myself eat a little hummus or guacamole, or add some Tessemae’s to my salad that night. (I don’t track this on paper down to the gram; I do it more on a gut level.)

Oh yeah, and supplements – a LOT of people have been asking me about these. Here’s what I take:

Every day: – BCAAs and protein powder (as above, on workout days only) – krill oil. It’s an omega-3 supplement, but tastes better than fish oil (and is a smaller pill). I’ve heard some people argue that krill oil is actually better for you than fish oil, because it comes from lower down on the food chain. – ZMAs. This is a combination of zinc, magnesium, and B6 that I take at bedtime. Magnesium is one of those minerals that most of us are deficient in no matter how well we eat, just because the American soil is so depleted nowadays; furthermore, it helps a lot with muscle relaxation and recovery. It doesn’t make you drowsy per se, just sort of makes you ‘ready’ to go to bed when it’s time to sleep. (And makes you remember your dreams. Crazy…)

Intermittently / as needed: – a good probiotic. Jarrow is one really good brand. If I’m feeling extra stressed / like my immune system is under fire, I’ll take one for a few days. Something like 80% of the immune system is in the gut, and I absolutely believe that these make a HUGE difference in terms of keeping me healthy. I’m probably jinxing myself by saying this, but I work around sick people all day every day, and yet I very rarely get sick myself. I can’t even remember the last time I had a cold. – rhodiola rosea. Helps enhance the body’s response to stress. (I notice it most during the darkest part of a really intense metcon – if I’m taking this, I don’t reach that ‘breaking point’ where it seems like I’m failing at life and the whole world is falling apart.) This is an adaptogen, so it shouldn’t be taken continuously or it will lose its effect (take it til the bottle’s gone, then take a couple weeks off, then start a new bottle). – digestive enzymes. If I know I’m going to eat something that probably isn’t going to agree with me (or if I HAVE just eaten something less than great and I’m feeling the effects), then I’ll take some supplemental enzymes. More recent schools of thought are saying that, rather than an ANTacid, what we really need is MORE stomach acid when we feel uncomfortable after eating, because the discomfort we feel is a sign that we’ve consumed something that our stomach is having trouble breaking down. I tend to believe this. I don’t eat much gluten anymore, but, for example, I traveled to Seattle last month and met up with a friend on a beautiful sunny afternoon to have lunch at Salumi, which is the restaurant owned by ‘Iron Chef’ Mario Batali’s family. They bake their own ciabatta bread in-house, slather it with olive oil, garlic, and pesto, then pile on the heaps of cured Italian meat and housemade cheese. So my friend and I both popped our digestive enzymes right beforehand… and then you better believe I ate the shit out of the most incredible Italian sandwich I’ve ever tasted, with no ill effects. (And did not count one single effing macro.) Carpe that diem, people.

Seasonally: – vitamin D (in the darker months) – SAM-e (during the darker months / non-daylight-savings time of year. This one is pretty expensive, but I have some whopping seasonal affective disorder if I don’t take it.) I’ve obviously left out a ton of stuff, but this serves as a pretty good summary of my day-to-day nutritional life right now. Please feel free to message me with any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, and so forth! There’s a ton of trial and error involved here for everyone, myself included, so I’m always happy to discuss! :-)

[11111110911111110931111777]

being praised for my resilience is nice but what’s not nice is that I never had a choice

[weskrongden]

Hey real talk now.

It is so easy to lift weights and get strong when it goes well. Like there is nothing easier. It’s fun and exciting and you literally get watch yourself adapt and become stronger.

It’s also not forever. You’re going to go through periods where you feel bad about your training. You won’t make progress or you’ll feel that you are actually regressing. You’ll be frustrated and probably feel like quitting at times.

It’s also not forever. Trust in your training and keep pushing and you will eventually find yourself in better days. As you learn more and become a better lifter you can make better choices that let you keep the net balance of good:bad training in the positive.

Keep grinding. There is no glory without struggle.

[louisianastrong]

I needed this today.

[pancakeabomination]

Wondergirl and Queen of the Underworld theunadventureous shewasalesbian

[nellachronism]

This is fucking AMAZING.

[picklesthezombie-blog]

So this one time, it was 90 million degrees out and we decided to go lift at the art museum and I PR’d all the things.

[furioas]

[picklesthezombie-blog]

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that you just need 90 minutes. 90 minutes once a day just for you. Go to happy hour. Take a nap. Workout. Draw. Journal. Cook. Watch your favourite tv show. Whatever feeds you. But do it by yourself. Do it for yourself. No work. No friends. No partners. Take 90 minutes a day to just spend time with yourself. Take yourself on a date every day and see how much better you feel.

[queerethereal]

I looked so good yesterday. I can’t wait to get more makeup though They/them

[picklesthezombie-blog]

Cutie!

[theroning]

Scarlett Johansson by Mary Ellen Matthews for SNL, May 2015.

[picklesthezombie-blog]

Unf.

[wnq-writers]

I’m secretly looking forward to someone whom I’m no longer ashamed to explain myself to, whom I can peel off all my metaphors and codes and reveal what the hell has happened all these years.

writemarmalade  (via wordsnquotes)

[picklesthezombie-blog]

I look cute as fuck today. #modcloth #businesscasualpunkrocker

[mrsstravitz]

When you botch a lift, and then look at your coach

[inkskinned]

1. Who you are now is not who you will be in 10 years. It is okay to be somebody new 10 minutes from now. We are always learning. We are always growing. If you realized 10 seconds ago that you don’t like who you are, shed your skin, retry, replant yourself in good soil. 2. Cleaning is instant therapy. When your brain is muddy, take a shower, wash your hands, change your clothes. Spend 15 minutes straightening your living room. When you are angry, scrub things. I know it’s crazy but it works instantly. 3. Forgive someone’s debt if it’s under 50 dollars, forgive the small things, give a little time to yourself and forgive the big things too. Forgiveness isn’t about the other person, it’s about you. That being said - if someone ever hurts you in a way that would make me cry to know, you get out of there, my love. You just get up and go. 4. Gum karma is real and if you spit out a piece in public expect to find some on your shoe in the future. Same goes for insults and harsh judgement, too. 5. Do what you love and the money will follow. 6. Live your life with an open palm and give as much as you can and as often. At some point in your life, someone will lend you 50 bucks when you’re down on your luck. Remember how that feels. Remember to give that back. 7. Always wear clean underwear. You’ll thank me later. 8. There is a difference between being kind and being passive and there are those who cannot see that difference. They will try to walk all over you. Never bend your knees for those who do. 9. Have faith. Have faith in god or people or yourself or science or in luck or in all of the above. Faith is what keeps us going, faith is what keeps us strong. 10. Pay your bills on time whenever you can, although money is nothing. Remind yourself that. 11. Do not forget you were once ignorant of all you know now. Be patient of anyone who hasn’t had the education you have. Speak at the level of the person you are with - it’s not playing dumb, it’s being considerate. There’s no reason to make them feel uncomfortable. Plus then when someone starts going off about their superior IQ, you can cut them to pieces and watch their face when you do. 12. You are the best person in the room for one particular thing, and that’s confidence. You are the worst person in the room for another thing, and that’s humility. Use both carefully. 13. Never make fun of someone’s beliefs or superstitions, let your kid keep their imaginary friend and let your best buddy believe in knocking on wood. We all have security blankets. Don’t take away someone else’s. 14. Try to learn something new every day. 15. The worse you look, the more likely you are to run into someone you know so instead of feeling awkward, learn to be confident in sweats while talking to your friends. 16. Never go to bed angry, it will ruin your sleep and make tomorrow even harder. Find a way to relax. Don’t let today get to your head. 17. Think before you speak. When someone says something, mull over their words before answering. This is called listening, it is different than hearing. 18. What keeps love beautiful is that there’s risk involved. If he breaks your heart and it doesn’t hurt, it wasn’t love in the first place. 19. Never let someone else determine who you are or how happy. You are too strong to be torn apart. 20. I love you, even when we are fighting, even when I am fast asleep. Don’t doubt it for an instant. You are my everything.

(via milespierre)

[breastforce]

“Particularly prone to serious procrastination problems are children who grew up with unusually high expectations placed on them…or else they exhibited exceptional talents early on, and thereafter “average” performances were met with concern and suspicion from parents and teachers.”

Holy SHIT

[t-ycho]

WELL THEN

[appropriately-inappropriate]

Yep.

They actually tested me for a learning disability in high school because I was consistently failing math.

They discovered that I actually scored in the 80th percentile in that sort of learning.

Problem was, in every other subject, I was in the 99.8th percentile.

I had never learned how to study because I never needed to—and then, when something proved to be even the slightest bit challenging, my brain went

“LOL nope this is impossible abort”

Meanwhile, this entire time I’m scraping by in subjects like English. The assignments I did turn in, I’d score top marks—but I’d avoid turning in projects I didn’t think were “good” enough.

Essentially, my brain had two settings: “100%” or “0%”.

This sort of Baby Genius shit makes kids and adolescents neurotic and self-destructive.

[backto-thebar]

Joining #reclaimthebindi with some pictures from December 2013 when I was studying in Mysore. Growing up, I was always so nervous to wear my Indian clothing, bindis, or even my bangles.  With only one parent who is Indian, I felt other-ed on both sides, either like I was not Indian enough to claim my heritage, including clothing, or that it was weird when I did. “Dot or feather?” Was a common question when I told people I was Indian.

Yet, some of the times I have felt most comfortable in myself has been when I am able to dress in this clothing, and rock my Desi identity.

So, here’s to all the amazing, beautiful and strong women I’ve seen on this tag. Our culture is not something to be ridiculed when we embrace it and idolized when it is appropriated.