yikes @southover - Tumblr Blog

I will forever love simple, domestic things let’s bake together, go grocery shopping, drive around, just spend time together

iggykoopa666

duendealexis

Wasn’t iCarly that guy with the wax wings that flew into the sun and fucking got rest because same

duendealexis

I just realized my phone corrected Icarus to iCarly because I type iCarly more than Icarus okay thanks

phillylesty-deactivated20180912

I thought this was just a god tier shitpost

bitchycode

‪What part of “i don’t wanna spend anymore money” don’t I understand

singsongstardust

Literally

emotionalgf-deactivated20190226

nylaporp

Sounds like something I would do

thefatladysang

thebootydiaries

mountainmoonvolcano

meladoodle

[reads ur palm] hey… this line here means you think people who read your palms are really hot…….

tipsymaple-blog

I may not be a perfect person but at least I have never yelled at an employee in a store

can0n-fodder

I have a long story about controlling your consumer frustration. When I was 19, back in 2004, I was in the navy, stationed at the naval airbase in Rota, Spain. I got leave to go home for the first time since bootcamp. I was going home for the first time in almost two years. I had a flight on Iberian airlines to Heathrow, and from there on Virgin to the US. Well… the Iberian flight landed late. Me and three other people ran to our connecting flight, which was leaving in 32 minutes, but it was never going to happen. If you know anything about Heathrow, you know that a connection break that narrow is impossible. So, I had to get another flight home. Here’s where it gets rough. Iberian said it wasn’t their responsibility. They had no affiliation with Virgin airlines and wasn’t responsible for my connections. I missed my flight because of them and they didn’t care (or, rather, the company didn’t care and the employee had no means with which to help me). Virgin told me that missing my flight was also not their fault and I would simply have to buy another ticket on a later flight. So there I am, 19 years old, stranded in a foreign airport with $120 to my name, being told I need to buy a day-of ticket across the Atlantic (which cost more than I made in a month). I cried in the bathroom, guys. I wandered around an airport that was the most sprawling, nonsensical spaghetti mess of old, new, clean, dirty, I had ever seen (there were whole terminals that looked like they had been just been abandoned in 1972. Like someone just said, “fuck it, we’re not going use this whole wing anymore”). At one point, I was looking at my ticket from the first Iberian flight and on the back I saw the various symbols of all the airlines who were together in some business cooperation, like they all dealt with one another. One of them was British Airways. Okay. Iberian said “get stuffed, you live in this airport now”, but maybe one of their business “partners” could help me. I was young and scared and stupid and my American brain said “I’ll try the British. I’ve seen British TV shows. We’re cousins, right? Oh, please, dear God!” I was told that to talk to the British Airways people I had to “land”, as they call it, getting my passport stamped and go to the main front entrance where all the airlines desks are. My Iberian ticket didn’t give me permission to do this, but luckily the British security guy seemed to be about 146% done with life’s bullshit too that day and just waved me in. I saw the British airlines desk, I saw the guys sitting there doing some kind of paperwork, and I decided I was going to play it cool. I was going to be confident. They WERE going to help me get home because that was what they had to do (they didn’t have to), but I wasn’t going to bomb this guy with my crisis. I wasn’t going to make my terrible problem HIS problem. So I rolled up, smiling, and told him that my Iberian flight landed late and my connection was “a whole 35 minutes, but I guess that’s not enough?” and I let HIM tell me how that was way too short and oh my God you were never going to make that connection, ma’am, no way at all…and I’m sorry there’s no flight to Ronald Reagan, but we have one leaving for Dulles in 3 hours. Will that do? Will that do? WILL THAT DO?! I wanted to marry that scruffy flush-cheeked dude and his accent. I laughed about the connection, and laughed harder when HE started bitching about Iberian and how they never helped anyone ever, and so on, until I found myself with a business class ticket to the US for no extra money after 9 hours–9 HOURS!!–wandering around an airport trying to figure out how I was going to get out of there without getting into massive trouble with my squadron. Now, I can’t be 100% sure, but I’m very confident in saying that if I had come up to that guy yelling and freaking out and saying how he HAD to do this and that, and I DEMAND this and that, I probably would have gotten nothing. He would have shut down, rambled off whatever rejections he could to get rid of me as fast as he could, and I would have had no choice but to contact the US embassy and beg a place on a military flight or whatever else…which would have definitely gotten back to my CO and gotten me in massive trouble. Be calm. Be kind. No one wants to help an asshole.

aeliad

This. 99% of the time the person customers choose to yell at has nothing to do with their issue and everything to do with the solution. Just don’t be an asshole.

dare-i-say-asexual

i just walked past the apartment beneath mine and through an open window i could hear my downstairs neighbor crying faintly while the song jolene played in the background and im just like… bitch are you okay…?

dare-i-say-asexual

I actually ended up going back downstairs to check on her and brought some leftover cookies I baked this afternoon. she’s very sweet and going through a Breakup Mood™️ after being cheated on. she’s coming over to my gf and I’s annual bad movie night on Friday and she even let me pet her cat named Clarence

dare-i-say-asexual

my gf thinks it’s funny but very fitting that our downstairs neighbor was able to summon a concerned lesbian just by playing jolene while crying about being done dirty by a man

claryfairhild

i’m so done with the way girls in twenties are treated. i’m so done with people who literally create timetable for us. 20- 24 find a guy, 24-26 make him propose to you, 27-29 get married. i’m so done. i’m do not want to get 2 a.m texts from my best friend who is freaking out that she is gonna die alone. i do not want see my 20 years old friend wasting her time on some guys who are not even interested in her. i do not want see us falling for every nice guy who does not look creepy. i do not want to see girls get sad or paranoid just bcos they do not fill in the schedule. you are ok. you should enjoy your life at its fullest and one day you will find 10/10 so do not pursue 6 just because you do not want to be single. it is ok and one day you will find someone. do not split your love with people who does not deserve it. keep it for yourself and when time will come you will know. i know it hurts. i know you wish u could just open part of yourself and release the buzzing love. but not every kind of love is romantic. show it to your family, friends, plants, yourself.

kaerya

Not a real criticism, just an expansion really, but … it’s not just the timetables we need to get away from, but the goal itself, I think. “One day you will find someone,” sounds comforting, but the reason it doesn’t lay fears to rest is because we are all smart enough to know it’s not necessarily true.

My aunt is over sixty, never married, and never, so far as I am aware, ever even had a great romance. She dated a lot, but never clicked and now seems to have given up. My mentor is over seventy, divorced her asshole husband more than half her life ago and has never found anyone since.

We all know women (and men) like these. And because we know them, we know that “one day you will find someone,” is just … hogwash. Because sometimes you just … don’t. Or sometimes you do, but he turns out to be a cad. Or you do and the universe rips you apart in the most unfair way possible. And because society has us so fixated on finding “our other half” or whatever, we view these women as cautionary tales.

But …

My aunt trains dogs. Her schipperke is the national champion for his breed. She spent so much of her life as a librarian, nurturing the love of books in kids, myself among them. I ride horses because of her, and it’s one of the very few things I do that makes my soul feel at peace.

My mentor is one of the best criminal defense attorneys in her state. She has devoted her life to fighting to ensure that everyone gets a vigorous defense. Because of her countless people have had the opportunity to turn their lives around. Because of her, they’ve had a life to turn around. Because of her, the prosecution and the police in her jurisdiction are forced to behave ethically and adhere to the rule of law. She’s still, even now fighting to abolish the death penalty. It’s because of her that I am pursuing the life I am.

These women’s lives are not nothing. In fact they are a whole lot of something, and it makes my heart hurt that I ever, in my dark 3 am’s, thought of their lives as something to be avoided at all costs.

So love your family, your friends, your pets, your gardens. Love your job or your hobby or your raison d’ etre, whatever it is. Love sunsets and the smell of rain and yourself, and don’t love these as something to do as a placeholder until the buzzing, romantic love comes, but love these as things worth loving all in themselves.

It’s fucking hard some days. The dark 3 am’s still come sometimes. But most days, I am so much more at peace knowing that I am not incomplete or waiting, but that my life, if it ended today, is worth it because of the platonic, familial, friendship love I have shared. And if the other kind does come someday, that’ll be nice, but it won’t make any of the others less. It’ll just be caramel sauce on a sundae–tasty and wonderful, but the sundae was perfect without it too.