#survival
Show & Tell
Today's Document
noise dept.
Fai_Ryy
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Product Placement

roma★
RMH
Monterey Bay Aquarium
One Nice Bug Per Day

No title available
EXPECTATIONS
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

Love Begins
NASA

pixel skylines

shark vs the universe

tannertan36
Xuebing Du
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@wyldbeauty
#survival
Just because he’ll fix things for you a few times a year doesn’t mean he’d be tolerable to be around the other 362 days. He and Lorelai had no chemistry and were so lacking in connection, communication, compatibility and joy.
Ouch.
Rest in Peace Grrl.
@mywilsonchurch
Wyldbeauty is coming back with a vengeance. Lifestyle accessories with enough sass and sparkle to move you towards a more beautiful life. Never distasteful but always close to over the top, Wyldbeauty is a conversation starter and a trend setter.
@ohmygeeee in Lush style: Empress, So #cute ❤ . . #lushwig #lushwigs #wig #lushhair #makeup #wigs #alternativehair #lacefrontwig #lacewig #gorgeoushair ~ Lushwigs.com ~ (link in bio) ❤ http://ift.tt/2rs1Ags
Yes.
RIP Mr. West. Your legacy is strong. #liljason #nltonj #adamwest #rip
My ongoing saga of want vs need... @lindy_bop #flashsale #.com #disposableincome #wyldbeauty
Prince stories run the gamut but I’m grateful for them all. Jamie Foxx lays it out for real, Kevin Smith enlightens with promise and recently Max Greenfield told how the encounter acknowledged the freedom of the moment. My stories may be of a time but they’re mine. This image hung in my young adult bedroom. It was sandwiched between Jim Morrison’s iconic Rolling Stone poster and a feminist credo that I only remember because it irritated my mother more than either of the other two pieces. Welcome to 1982.
I already knew his music. I read Rolling Stone, roller-skated to “Wanna Be Your Lover’ and “Controversy” played late night on ‘BCN. In the next year, a new singer named Cyndi Lauper would cover “Would You Be Mine”. Much later Sinead O'Connor would do the same with “Nothing Compares 2 You”. “International Lover” only got played in my car because you know…my mom.
The search for Purple Rain’s Apollonia took place that Summer. Hundreds of women seen in major cities. My boss at the time told me about an industry ad he had heard about. “You should do this..”, he said. “Rock and Roll female needed for film, 5'2 or under, dark hair and eyes, some nudity…”, as he casually paraphrased the list, I dismissed the idea as another of his schemes to be incidentally involved in the world of stage and screen…till a year or so later.
By then I was commuting to a new job in Boston, feeling very cosmopolitan and making new friends in the beauty business and beyond. Beyond meant allowing myself to be charmed by the CVS guy who worked downstairs. Jamie knew I was thin but ate candy bars for lunch and I knew he was kind and made the most of his job everyday. In the summer of '84, My new friend and I called in sick to see Purple Rain at the first show of the day. I was fascinated, saw it a few more times that month and could eventually recite dialog and do, frequently, to this day. I don’t see my friend Jamie anymore but I’ll never forget him, that day or having the lyrics to the title song written up in purple ink so it would be suitable for framing and presentation. He hung it over his bed.
The next Spring found me walking around the Worcester Centrum in the dark, wearing a purple Betsey Johnson drop waist maxi dress, a cloak with a huge hood, boots, one large hoop earring and an unsafe amount of cash in my pocket. The Revolution was warming up inside. I was naive and nearly got robbed by two guys who assured me their friend had a ticket around the corner in a parking garage. I didn’t get to see Prince that night but thankfully I didn’t lose anything else that night either.
I’ve worn a “Raspberry Beret”, explored “Seven” for spiritual truths and watched “The Artist Formerly Known As” rock the SuperBowl like no other. My sexual soundtrack consists of songs he has written, performed and/or produced. “Sex Shooter” and “Screams of Passion” are guilty pleasures that have served me well. All this from the mind of a singular genius. Today I got a text that said, “I’m sorry for your loss 💔💔”. I am back in New England with my family. I felt my heart jump. When I found out that Prince had left us, I cried out, startling my mom. It’s been nearly 40 years and today I’m back where all the stories happened. I don’t go to auditions anymore, I don’t remember Jamie’s last name and the Centrum has been renamed after a credit union. But the day is over, Purple Rain is on MTV and I’ll always have my stories.
Rest well sweet Prince 💜
It's been a year: missing you still.
A dead fish handshake will tell anyone what they need to know about your ambition, confidence and determination. Right after this Paris shakes hands like a boss. Just sayin…
SUBMITTED!
My first submission and acceptance! Very excited and grateful to StarsHollowConfessions!!
He used to be so in tune with her feelings (hospital with her father, her fight with snow, feeling alone/failing/sinking) How could he not see that his relationship with Anna and April was hurting her? She beat up the bag Anna gave him very blatantly, her passive aggression is obvious, he should have known it was coming when she started avoiding him. she was so patient with him and he blew it.
Love this blog...this ones on point
The Princess Club
Episode 111
Obsessed with this Tumblr acct and so glad it's back!!!
Love
Thank You Indeed
I have been alternately bursting with pride and heartbreak with disappointment over the reactions to last weekend's Woman's March. I admit I could only be there in spirit.
I know the dissolution and bitterness of feeling like I've aged beyond being able to help, like my life has become resigned to a place where women's issues don't apply to me anymore, but I strive to live as a model of gratitude in remembrance of those I fought alongside to only get this far, and of grace towards those who carry on the fight in a global scale so we never have to go backwards.
When the women we look up to fall to the woman on woman crimes of name calling and disrespect, I think of our daughters and their granddaughters and pray they can see with the forward vision of those who fought when we felt like surrendering. I understand feeling like you've been passed by, I'll never understand disparaging women while calling myself one.
So yes, Thank you.
*************************************************************************************************SSay Thank You
Say thank you. Say thank you to the women who gave you a voice. Say thank you to the women who were arrested and imprisoned and beaten and gassed for you to have a voice. Say thank you to the women who refused to back down, to the women who fought tirelessly to give you a voice. Say thank you to the women who put their lives on hold, who –lucky for you — did not have “better things to do” than to march and protest and rally for your voice. So you don’t feel like a “second class citizen.” So you get to feel “equal.”
Thank Susan B. Anthony and Alice Paul for your right to vote.
Thank Elizabeth Stanton for your right to work.
Thank Maud Wood Park for your prenatal care and your identity outside of your husband.
Thank Rose Schneiderman for your humane working conditions.
Thank Eleanor Roosevelt and Molly Dewson for your ability to work in politics and affect policy.
Thank Margaret Sanger for your legal birth control.
Thank Carol Downer for your reproductive healthcare rights.
Thank Sarah Muller for your equal education.
Thank Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Shannon Turner, Gloria Steinem, Zelda Kingoff Nordlinger, Rosa Parks, Angela Davis, Malika Saada Saar, Wagatwe Wanjuki, Ida B. Wells, Malala Yousafzai. Thank your mother, your grandmother, your great-grandmother who did not have half of the rights you have now.
You can make your own choices, speak and be heard, vote, work, control your body, defend yourself, defend your family, because of the women who marched. You did nothing to earn those rights. You were born into those rights. You did nothing, but you reap the benefits of women, strong women, women who fought misogyny and pushed through patriarchy and fought for you. And you sit on your pedestal, a pedestal you are fortunate enough to have, and type. A keyboard warrior. A fighter for complacency. An acceptor of what you were given. A denier of facts. Wrapped up in your delusion of equality.
You are not equal. Even if you feel like you are. You still make less than a man for doing the same work. You make less as a CEO, as an athlete, as an actress, as a doctor. You make less in government, in the tech industry, in healthcare.
You still don’t have full rights over your own body. Men are still debating over your uterus. Over your prenatal care. Over your choices.
You still have to pay taxes for your basic sanitary needs.
You still have to carry mace when walking alone at night. You still have to prove to the court why you were drunk on the night you were raped. You still have to justify your behavior when a man forces himself on you.
You still don’t have paid (or even unpaid) maternity leave. You still have to go back to work while your body is broken. While you silently suffer from postpartum depression.
You still have to fight to breastfeed in public. You still have to prove to other women it’s your right to do so. You still offend others with your breasts.
You are still objectified. You are still catcalled. You are still sexualized. You are still told you’re too skinny or you’re too fat. You’re still told you’re too old or too young. You’re applauded when you “age gracefully.” You’re still told men age “better.” You’re still told to dress like a lady. You are still judged on your outfit instead of what’s in your head. What brand bag you have still matters more than your college degree.
You are still being abused by your husband, by your boyfriend. You’re still being murdered by your partners. Being beaten by your soulmate.
You are still worse off if you are a woman of color, a gay woman, a transgender woman. You are still harassed, belittled, dehumanized.
Your daughters are still told they are beautiful before they are told they are smart. Your daughters are still told to behave even though “boys will be boys.” Your daughters are still told boys pull hair or pinch them because they like them.
You are not equal. Your daughters are not equal. You are still systemically oppressed.
Estonia allows parents to take up to three years of leave, fully paid for the first 435 days. United States has no policy requiring maternity leave.
Singapore’s women feel safe walking alone at night. American women do not.
New Zealand’s women have the smallest gender gap in wages, at 5.6%. United States’ pay gap is 20%.
Iceland has the highest number of women CEOs, at 44%. United States is at 4.0%.
The United States ranks at 45 for women’s equality. Behind Rwanda, Cuba, Philippines, Jamaica.
But I get it. You don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to be a victim. You think feminism is a dirty word. You think it’s not classy to fight for equality. You hate the word pussy. Unless of course you use it to call a man who isn’t up to your standard of manhood. You know the type of man that “allows” “his” woman to do whatever she damn well pleases. I get it. You believe feminists are emotional, irrational, unreasonable. Why aren’t women just satisfied with their lives, right? You get what you get and you don’t get upset, right?
I get it. You want to feel empowered. You don’t want to believe you’re oppressed. Because that would mean you are indeed a “second-class citizen.” You don’t want to feel like one. I get it. But don’t worry. I will walk for you. I will walk for your daughter. And your daughter’s daughter. And maybe you will still believe the world did not change. You will believe you’ve always had the rights you have today. And that’s okay. Because women who actually care and support other women don’t care what you think about them. They care about their future and the future of the women who come after them.
Open your eyes. Open them wide. Because I’m here to tell you, along with millions of other women that you are not equal. Our equality is an illusion. A feel-good sleight of hand. A trick of the mind. I’m sorry to tell you, but you are not equal. And neither are your daughters.
But don’t worry. We will walk for you. We will fight for you. We will stand up for you. And one day you will actually be equal, instead of just feeling like you are.
~ Dina Leygerman, 2017
When making your bed is a ministry in self care. Thanks @twopastorspodcast!! #ahh #glmawmthgt