you guys, facebook messed up my tags and now the pictures i just uploaded SAY they are tagged with my name/face, but are not showing up in my tagged pictures and i am SO CLOSE TO FREAKING OUT because i am REALLY INTENSE IN THE WORST WAYS. i have retagged them like nine times and i have only resisted deleting and reuploading this long because there are a couple that are older that i noticed were missing tags too and i don’t want to have to figure out what is messed up then save, delete, reupload, and try tagging again. OH MY GOD I HATE THAT THIS IS BOTHERING ME SO MUCH. I NEED TO GET IN BED NOW.
ANYWAY, this is what i looked like in the snow on saturday. i don’t own any clothes, really, so i am wearing: ankle socks, chenille striped socks, worn to hell leather converse high tops, leggings, cut off jean shorts, a purple tank top, a long sleeve shirt, and a fleece blazer, a pink scarf/pashmina. and fingerless gloves. i had to stay on the deck because if i walked in the snow, i would fall down. i win.
but anyway, i am so cute in this picture i want to do myself. not that that’s a particularly new sentiment.
It’s people’s own interpretation of words that often leads to downfalls.
i hope the apocalypse lifts the veil of diet drugs and unrealistic beauty expectations and gender and political binaries and war and reality television and no fifth series of the it crowd and misogyny and factory farming and corrupt government and greed and frosted lipstick and bottles of soda that are unopened but already flat and the concept of “flattering” clothing and fashion ideals and unfair pay scales and resistance to social programs and laser backgrounds not being the default for school pictures and a oppressive marital system and the shitty disneyland tomorrowland redesign from 1998 and the idea of guilty pleasures and systematically enforced inequality and not being able to scroll through only the channels i am subscribed to unless i reactivate that one menu every single time i turn the set top box on.
People who don’t like particular foods will be asked why. Why don’t you like it? What’s wrong with you? They will be endlessly quizzed with demands to justify it. It’s not enough to say ‘it’s not to my taste.’ You have to say it’s the texture, or the flavour (‘but what about the flavour?’), or this one bad experience you had. You can’t just go ‘no, thank you,’ or ‘I don’t particularly fancy shrimp’ without being subjected to the third degree. And beyond the quizzing, after the interrogation, comes the next step.
The firm attempt to convince you that you are wrong. If you’re lucky, it remains oral in form. People will argue with you until you say ‘oh, ok, maybe it’s not so bad’ because what else are you going to say? How do you ‘win’ an argument about whether or not you like a particular food? More commonly, though, a recipe is pressed upon you, that you must try, and people will make a point of asking about it every time they see you. Or, even worse, people will directly force the food on you, will expect you to smile when you come over for dinner and the main dish is something your hosts know you do not like to eat. ‘We just needed you to try it when it’s prepared properly.’ And of course you don’t want to offend your hosts so you try it and you don’t like it and then what do you do? Say you like it so they can crow over you? Or say, no, I don’t like it, and have their faces fall because you’re reneged on the social contract that says you lie to your hosts when you don’t like the food?
I have started being super blunt about my food allergies because I’m tired of people trying to convince me to try things to which I am allergic. Food sample people at grocery stores are the worst when it comes to this, in my experience - I understand their motivation and that they are working against people’s practiced self-denial when it comes to “indulging” but, no, your shrimp rotini will kill me. The smell makes me kind of ill, in fact. I’m not complaining about that because it’s a grocery store and a public space. But stop trying to talk me into eating it.
At the same time, I’ve been reblogging a conversation about the privilege and racism that is involved in a lot of discussion of ethnic foods. So I think people need to back off when you don’t want to try something; but we should also be willing to try things and NOT use such judgmental terms when we’re expressing that we don’t want to try it.
Our culture has made food so complicated for such a fundamental requirement.
this was really nice to read because only in the last year have i started to realize that i don’t have to apologize for the things i do not like to eat. i have never, ever liked fish and for years i would have to sort of duck my head and apologize, like there’s something wrong with me. when i was under 21-ish, there was always an air to the argument like, OH WHEN YOU’RE AN ADULT, YOU’LL BE BETTER AT TASTING STUFF, which, what the fuck, even? or god the conversation when i say i don’t like coffee or beer!
i don’t like fish (or beer! or coffee!) because it (shock! HORROR!) doesn’t taste good to me. saying no to something should never have to be more complicated than that. no, i don’t have to learn to like it. no, i won’t change my mind someday. (though if i do, great! more food variety for me!) no, no thank you, i don’t want to try your delicious family recipe.
(Source: se-smith)
can i talk about how much this irritates me right now? why in 2k11 would you still divide your products by gender? why do you think that i am going to want to spend money with a company that says that because i identify as a woman (generally, speaking) i only want stationery with flowers? WHY?! why are you still trying to tell men they can’t like flowers or paisley or pastels? why are you telling women they can’t like plaids and dark blue and clean, crisp lines? what the fuck, minted?
last night, i had a really long and involved dream about the band cake and eli roth (who was in the band) and having to babysit animals and kids at a concert venue in the middle of an expensive suburban neighborhood — but those things are all boring and incidental because i was wearing a 1980s/1990s nylon tracksuit jacket extremely similar to this.
important things happening in this brain, 100% of the time. meaningful.
fixed it
traffic to my website. number 8, that’s where the money’s at. leonardo dicaprio and the cast of inception’s mass case of bell’s palsy. way to be, ash, way to be.
(I would like to point out that this atrocious font is called “Thug” and 1. That’s racist 2. That’s stupid, and 3. I had to mouse-draw the plus and equal signs because they were just dots in the font. Like, wtf, thugs can’t math? Thugs need not plus and equal signs? RACIST, FONT, RACIST.)
not if you call movies “films”, no.
(via macaronipieces)
ash! fat chick, writer, enthusiast, ash-hole. waiting, wondering.
pretty things and ugly things and lots of things.
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i am fully, energetically, enthusiastically, gratefully available for all freelancing opportunities! i can write ANYTHING, yo! ~*~freeashlance@gmail.com~*~
The Cabin in the Woods by Griffin
Things you can find along the streets of Memphis.
