June 2012
30 posts
“One of the biggest, and possibly the biggest, obstacle to becoming a writer — I’ve said this from a slightly different angle in another answer — is learning to live with the fact that the wonderful story in your head is infinitely better, truer, more moving, more fascinating, more perceptive, than anything you’re going to manage to get down on paper. (And if you ever think otherwise, then you’ve turned into an arrogant self-satisfied prat, and should look for another job or another avocation or another weekend activity.) So you have to learn to live with the fact that you’re never going to write well enough. Of course that’s what keeps you trying — trying as hard as you can — which is a good thing. As I started off saying, writing takes practise.”
—
Robin McKinley, on advice to those who would like to be writers (via dinosaurjam)
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again… who doesn’t heart McKinley?
(via sarahreesbrennan)
i'm getting a twitter.
even though i don’t really want one.
apparently in the future social media will rule us all so it’s either learn through it or starve forever.
… i really really like food (and the potential to be fabulous).
[After a week and a half of not tweeting once, I have deleted my twitter. Happy Independence Day. Fuck it. If I suddenly need to prove how sociable I am to a job interviewer I’ll just have them call every person I know. Or maybe I should just tattoo “Does not play well with others (under the guise of social media)” across my chest. Decisions, decisions.]
“That’s the only sad thing about aging: You can’t bring back the ones that you really loved.”
—Joan Rivers (Fresh Air)
Staring contests with my cat.
Olive always wins. Conclusion: Doomed to fail. Forever.
“Poverty is not simply having no money — it is isolation, vulnerability, humiliation and mistrust. It is not being able to differentiate between employers and exploiters and abusers. It is contempt for the simplistic illusion of meritocracy — the idea that what we get is what we work for. It is knowing that your mother, with her arthritic joints and her maddening insomnia and her post-traumatic stress disordered heart, goes to work until two in the morning waiting tables for less than minimum wage, or pushes a janitor’s cart and cleans the shit-filled toilets of polished professionals. It is entering a room full of people and seeing not only individual people, but violent systems and stark divisions. It is the violence of untreated mental illness exacerbated by the fact that reality, from some vantage points, really does resemble a psychotic nightmare. It is the violence of abuse and assault which is ignored or minimized by police officers, social services, and courts of law. Poverty is conflict. And for poor kids lucky enough to have the chance to “move up,” it is the conflict between remaining oppressed or collaborating with the oppressor.”
—Megan Lee (via theneongypsy)
New favorite jingle. Yay, vagina!
Maude bless Vaginaca
Snatch that I love
Stand beside her, and guide her
Through the night with the clit from above
From the g-spot to the labies
Fill the sky with nightly moans
Maude bless Vaginaca, my home sweet home
