1. Party Drunk:
- will talk to anyone and everyone
- only does shots
- has to literally be dragged home at the end of the night because they refuse to acknowledge that the party has ended and they’re the only person still there
2. Blissful Drunk
- does nothing but laugh
- just happy to be included
- too good for this world
- loves you so much even though they just met you four minutes ago
- probably also does acid
3. Emotional Drunk
- not great at parties
- is either crying tears of sorrow bc there’s no chips left or crying tears of gratitude bc someone showed them where the bathroom is
- brings out everyone’s inner mother
4. Parent Drunk
- keeps everyone’s shit together
- everyone thinks they’re sober but they’ve actually had 5 shots in an hour
- knows when u need to go home and will make sure you get there
- holds back your hair when you’re vomiting at 3am
5. Slutty Drunk
- never gets cold
- makeup never smudges
- never has to buy their own drinks
- you think they’re sloppy and have no idea what they’re doing but every move is calculated and intentional
6. Sloppy Drunk
- wasted by 10pm
- needs to be taken home early
- will drink anything you give them as long as there’s alcohol in it
- a Mess
- never learns from their mistakes
(Source: hobgoblinz, via n-haught)
So, I’ve had the flu for like a week (I’m still not well and I’m quite worried about going in to work tomorrow but having been absent for two weeks, I think it’s time I made the attempt) and I have alternated between semi-lucid and SUPER ANXIOUS depending on when I took my cold medication. Like, I’m flipping my shit over something that’s not due at work until mid-May.
But one of the few benefits of having dealt with depression for twenty years is that I know when something I’m feeling is unrealistic; not enough to help, but enough to prevent myself from doing stupid shit, which is almost as good.
So I, knowing that my anxiety was irrational, googled “Anxiety” and “Flu” and APPARENTLY THE FLU CAN GIVE YOU ANXIETY. And not just like, “oh shit I’m sick and stuff is building up” anxiety. Like literal biological Capital-A Anxiety. It seems that cytokines, which are a kind of cell protein, are linked to anxiety and depression, and are released in way higher numbers when you’re sick. I haven’t sought out the studies yet, but there are studies which indicate that reports of depression actually peak during high flu season.
So if you’re sick and freaked out, FYI, there’s probably a stronger biological link than you suspected. Blame it on the cytokines!
This explains so much. D:
In a private cemetery in small-town Arkansas, a woman single-handedly buried and gave funerals to more than 40 gay men during the height of the AIDS epidemic, when their families wouldn’t claim them. -Source
One person who found the courage to push the wheel is Ruth Coker Burks. Now a grandmother living a quiet life in Rogers, in the mid-1980s Burks took it as a calling to care for people with AIDS at the dawn of the epidemic, when survival from diagnosis to death was sometimes measured in weeks. For about a decade, between 1984 and the mid-1990s and before better HIV drugs and more enlightened medical care for AIDS patients effectively rendered her obsolete, Burks cared for hundreds of dying people, many of them gay men who had been abandoned by their families. She had no medical training, but she took them to their appointments, picked up their medications, helped them fill out forms for assistance, and talked them through their despair. Sometimes she paid for their cremations. She buried over three dozen of them with her own two hands, after their families refused to claim their bodies. For many of those people, she is now the only person who knows the location of their graves.
How have I never heard of this?
People like her should be remembered. And even more importantly, we must remember that there was a time in our history when we needed someone like her.
“When Burks was a girl, she said, her mother got in a final, epic row with Burks’ uncle. To make sure he and his branch of the family tree would never lie in the same dirt as the rest of them, Burks said, her mother quietly bought every available grave space in the cemetery: 262 plots. They visited the cemetery most Sundays after church when she was young, Burks said, and her mother would often sarcastically remark on her holdings, looking out over the cemetery and telling her daughter: ‘Someday, all of this is going to be yours.’
‘I always wondered what I was going to do with a cemetery,’ she said. ‘Who knew there’d come a time when people didn’t want to bury their children?’"
Wonderful woman. Wonderful story.
(Source: weird-facts.org, via yea-lets-do-this-shit)
the solar system is probably the most purely, simply fun exploratory experience humans will ever get to have, because there’s nobody there! there’s no colonialism and we don’t have to worry about aliens yet, so its just. fun!
we just land a robot on an empty planet and make it do wheelies and every few days we find like a cool rock and scientists yell about it on twitter
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
that point in the semester where everything is like
ever since I made this post it gets reblogged when there’s about 3 weeks left before finals which lets me know that it’s that point of the semester again
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
NICE WORK MERRIAM-WEBSTER!
BURN (verb): “to destroy or be destroyed by fire or heat”
(via princehal9000)
GOOD LUCK ON YOUR FINAL EXAMS
GOOD LUCK ON YOUR ENTRANCE EXAMS
GOOD LUCK ON YOUR ORAL PRESENTATIONS
GOOD LUCK ON YOUR GIANT ESSAYS
GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK
d(^u^)b
(via academicfeminist)
Why isn’t using sign language more common in society? like??? Not even just communicating within deaf communities but for everybody to use with anybody?
I feel like this should be standard learning material for those working in loud workplaces or with machinery, or maybe idk for talking underwater or when someone else can’t hear you at a concert. Or what about when somebody is having a panic attack and can’t talk, or just isn’t all that comfortable with voicing their feelings?
Why isn’t nonverbal communication more integrated into our society? Cause it should be.
(via muteelfmoonmoon)
we were little girls with messy hair who wanted to shoot lasers at the people who hurt us. we made our barbies fly, made them spies, made them as strong as we wanted to be. they could stand up to the bullies. when we were older, we would ask, “where are the female superheroes?”
“it’s just a movie,” we were assured, “and what’s wrong with being the girl next door?”
we were angry adolescents with no safe direction to lash out in. we were not allowed to be violent. those of us who turned to our playstation were embarrassed for it. many of us were bullied. many of us turned to fantasy. when we were older, we would ask, “why is there only one playable girl character in this whole game?”
“video games are art,” we were sneered at, “i’m sick of these fake gamer girls ruining our media.”
we were high school girls who were worried we weren’t being kissed fast enough, even at 15. we felt shame boil up around our ears when men leaned out of cars to sling slurs at us. we wanted to feel good about ourselves but were sent home for showing our shoulders. what were we telling people by being so in love with our bodies that we showed them off in any small way. when we were older, we would ask, “why does this advertisement for socks have a barely-18-year-old girl lying mostly-naked on a bed?” we saw our own 18-year-old self, who could barely kiss right and still trembled about sex.
“relax,” we were told, “if you don’t like it, don’t look. if you’re mad they’re selling you your clothes like this, just don’t buy from them.”
we turned into tired adults. we have our fires burnt out. we have explained and explained until our tongues turned numb why we deserve to be able to live without fear. we got sick of being teachers. any dent we made was quickly refilled. we were sick of trying to talk to people who would never change their minds about us. we were sick of it. and we still asked: “where am i? where are the people who look like me?”
i once was in a coffee shop sighing to a friend, “why don’t people get that not every girl has the same body or same metabolic system” and i was interrupted by a large man who has no idea how i eat or how much i weigh or how healthy i might be, and he loudly and briskly informed me, “Victoria’s Secret models have a more common body type than you think. If you’re so pissed about not being like the girls on tv, how about you change what you look like?” i had gone 6 days without eating.
so we made it up. we gave barbie a cape and our spotted dog the ability to control the weather. we wrote barely-legible fanfiction about vampires who were also terribly in love with us - because we were perfect in this world, unlike the mess of what really was - we crafted entire sub-stories about how the main characters in our favorite universes were secretly girls in disguise. we made 17-year-old characters who would cut the throats of anyone who hurt them. we drew pictures of women in full, angry armor. we wrote bad poems about the girls we loved and the ones we were jealous of. we hurt ourselves often, were excellent at denying ourselves in the name of something. we only ate salad, we wouldn’t touch grease, we didn’t buy certain things, didn’t get dirty. we used things to fill the gaps. bath bombs. fussy boots. venti iced mocha half-caf.
we made it up. we flooded the market. we put up pictures of ourselves smiling, with messy hair and silly faces, with back fat, with smudged makeup. we made videos perfecting our lips. we made art of possible fashion - all with pockets.
a few girls take selfies at a sports event. they are slandered across the news for it.
can you imagine? can you imagine the selfishness? the audacity? the self-possession one must feel to take a picture of themselves where they control everything?
we don’t belong. images of us have to be photoshopped. made in buildings with perfect lighting. a young girl in underwear. we don’t belong. we don’t exist. keep quiet. if you don’t like it, don’t look at it.
The chills won’t stop, pls boost this piece of brilliance all over the interwebz bc it’s spot on.
(via allgreymatters)
