We’re gonna nap so hard.
—
The first story I’ve seen discussing the compensation for the Costa Concordia passengers.
Having family in Germany who have had been tied up in the German legal system for some 10+ years now, if it is determined that Carnival is responsible, the German passengers should consider it their lucky day.
Yeah, well, you know, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.
This pretty much sums up 90% of my reactions to clients’ requests.
(Source: constancelangdon, via slaughterhousefive)
Growing up, it was a matter of gender politics. I no longer read women’s magazines after learning the hard way that the quotes from “men on the street” were faked (“Oh yeah, there’s nothing like a girl who smears a little butterscotch on your perineum” or “Don’t be self-conscious! We’re so happy you’re having sex with us, we don’t care if you have pendulous breasts or stop during coitus to eat leftover corn on the cob.”) But when I did read them, they always featured “How to Get Ahead at the Office” tips that boiled down to “Don’t be such a fucking girl.”………
….On the one hand you’re supposed to appreciate the butteriness of a leather accessory, while bemoaning the dwindling number of ice-fishing, zip-lining “real” men. You’re having your own manliness sold back to you wrapped in a silk kerchief embroidered with the words “You’re kind of a douche for buying this.”
"—
Julieanne Smolinski raises a very good point.
Not to get into a gender stereotypes argument here, but I feel that we’ve gotten to a very exhausting point where both women and men are expected to be able to play to any and all sides.
As women, we’re supposed to be pretty and like sequins and always smell good and glisten (not sweat! Quelle horreur!), but yet still be able to weld power tools and fix shit and lift our own heavy boxes and be tough and not cry at sappy movies.
And it seems guys are supposed to be able to fix flat tires, drink nothing but dark, ‘manly’ beers, chop down trees with their bare hands, grunt at the game on the tv, and come to the rescue whenever a rescue is needed…with perfectly manicured hands, ‘authentic’ vintage driving loafers, and modal cotton t-shirts.
Hell, even The Dude and I have gotten into tiffs over arguments of “you’re so independent - why don’t you fix the [whatever’s broken] yourself!”…”just because I can do it myself doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be really nice to not have to!”
So, all I’m saying is, maybe it’s ok that all dudes aren’t the best chefs, intent on whisking their ladies off their feet with grand, well-orchestrated romantic gestures. But then again, I don’t glisten - I sweat. And sometimes, I smell, too.
When life starts to stress you out, just remember: we’re all just specks of dust on a big, Blue Marble, floating through space.
Christian Dior | Spring 2012 Couture
Yes, please! That’s a ‘grocery store run’ dress if I’ve ever seen one!
(via thechicinchicago)
psa: “fine” NEVER EVER MEANS FINE. ever. it means “i can’t believe you don’t know why i’m fucking sad/pissed/annoyed/flustered/(etc.) right now and i’m going to attempt to guilt trip/avoid the topic/ignore the feeling/(etc.) until i actually am fine, at which point you will know with zero doubt in your mind.
just saying.
Luckily, I’m pretty sure The Dude has picked up on my angry signs:
(Source: pleatedjeans)
I know I’m going to get a lot of heat for this, but in all the years people have said the phrase, “It’s the least I could do,” this truly is—outside of doing nothing at all—”the least you can do.” Nothing says, “I barely care,” then to type “Happy Birthday” on someone’s profile page.If you do truly want to wish someone a happy birthday, do something else, anything else than just typing “Happy Birthday.”It’s great that Facebook reminds us when people have birthdays. Use that as a chance to reconnect with the person with a positive message.