blacksheepredhead

monkey-do:

Joseph Gordon Levitt in stockings


This is…hot? Interesting.

monkey-do:

Joseph Gordon Levitt in stockings

This is…hot? Interesting.

(via wilwheaton)

— 9 months ago with 35552 notes

I am struggling with some self-image problems recently. I’m tired of my self-worth coming from how I feel about the way I look. I will never live up to society’s impossible standards of beauty anyway, so I am just setting myself up for a shallow, disappointed existence if I continue. I’m not really pretty, I don’t have a good body, I don’t have long beautiful hair or big eyes or any of the things that women are supposed to have to be attractive. But I’m still attractive, somehow (I’m told). More importantly, I am intelligent, creative, funny and caring. Since when did the circumference of my belly or the dimples in my thighs become more important to me than being a good, interesting, successful human being?

My (very cool, very body-positive) mum gave me some great advice:

"When you get up in the morning and you look at yourself in the mirror, you are not allowed to think anything negative. Treat your reflection like you’d treat your dear friend: with kindness. And before you leave the house, take just one more look, and say, ‘Great arse’. That’s what I do. Works every time. And then forget about how you look and go and live your life."

My challenge to myself this week is to follow this advice. :) I think if every woman did this in the morning we would save ourselves a lot of heartache.

We are more than just our bodies and faces and how those match up to society’s standards.

— 10 months ago with 4 notes
#body image  #confidence  #self love  #health  #mental health  #self image  #advice  #mum  #life  #blog  #feminism 
Late night grumble.

To those people who sigh on Facebook about how seeing their significant other “only every weekend :(” is “sooo hard” and they miss them “soooo much :(“: in the nicest way possible, please shut up, okay?

I find it hard to be at all sympathetic when I’m going on my third week without having seen my fiance, and you’ve been spending all weekend posting on Facebook about how great it is being cuddled up with your boyfriend who only lives forty minutes away or whatever. Try three hours and around £35 worth of distance and two incredibly busy, rather incompatible schedules that force you to spend most of a month apart. (Let alone the 4+ hours, £100+ plane tickets and 6-8 week waits we used to contend with…) Then I might forgive you for whining a little bit.

Honestly, I get that you love your person and you want to spend every waking moment with them, especially when your relationship is shiny new. It really warms the cockles of my poor bruised little heart. But please spare a thought for those of us who are not as fortunate as you and who have to constantly scrape together our very limited time and money to snatch a couple of days together a month. Your “a whole three days til I can see the boy again!! :(” schtick is painful to us. Relax, try to retain your independence, enjoy your me-time, and be thankful that you don’t have to conduct the majority of your love life over Skype. :)

— 10 months ago
pleasestopbeingsad:

Street harassment is not a compliment.


I told two men who were loudly and sexually discussing my legs to fuck off the other day. One responded with “fat bitches should be more grateful for compliments”. Gee, thanks.

pleasestopbeingsad:

Street harassment is not a compliment.

I told two men who were loudly and sexually discussing my legs to fuck off the other day. One responded with “fat bitches should be more grateful for compliments”.

Gee, thanks.

(Source: positivedoodles, via withhighhopes)

— 11 months ago with 394058 notes
Wedding Snobbery (or, Stuck Up A**eholes and What I Would Like to Say to Them)

So, my lovely fiancé and I have been engaged for almost two years now, which means we are…halfway to the wedding. Yep, it’s a long engagement. A looooong engagement. It’s not for financial reasons (well, slightly, but not really), and it’s definitely not because we’re not actually ready to get married (why do people do that, I wonder). It’s purely because of our student-y circumstances and because, old fashioned girl that I am, I don’t want to be married to someone I don’t actually live with. I know, I’m weird.

Anyway, I’m loving being engaged. I would love to be able to get married next year, but we won’t be able to live together until at least next June and even then, it very much depends on where I choose to study my teaching degree. So, I’ve decided that I’m going to absolutely glory in it. We’re enjoying chatting about the wedding, looking at inspiration, gathering awesomely nerdy and different little bits and pieces. It’s actually not stressful and it’s really kind of…fun?! Blah blah blah, long story short, I really don’t mind my long engagement.

However, other people, apparently, do.

G and I went to a wedding open day this weekend. It was at a castle, which was pretty but way too ostentatious for the likes of us. It wasn’t a cool, witchy, medieval-type castle, all imposing battlements and looming (now THAT would be our thing) but more a fancy, stately home kind of castle. Basically, it was shiny, expensive, and up its own proverbial. We had fun anyway, but it’s not a potential venue.

We were heading away from the castle towards the car at the end of the day when another couple, probably in their thirties, walked past - and I heard the woman say:
“I heard one woman say they weren’t getting married until 2015…!”
…in tones of withering, incredulous scorn. They laughed the hearty laugh of the wealthy, self-confident halfwit, and continued up the path, bleating further (thankfully inaudible) comments about the foolhardiness of this silly young woman with her silly long engagement.

That woman was ME.
I was FUMING.

How dare this moneyed, horse-faced woman and her braying idiot of a husband mock our decisions? How dare she take our giddy excitement over the thought of finally getting to our long-awaited day, and turn it into something foolish? I would never have dreamt of doing anything like that to her…

…until then.

For us, our wedding day is a day we have already been looking forward to for a long time, and by the time it rolls around it will probably have felt like forever. We are both young, our biological clocks are not even at whispering point, we’re not under any pressure from anyone to get married. We want to get married purely for our own reasons - because we love each other, because we’re best friends, because we make a cracking team and we can’t believe our luck and we want all the people we love to share that with us.

This nasty, sour little woman? She probably wants children, like, five years ago, and she and Rupert Tarquin St John McTallyflaps have been together for SEVEN YEARS and I’m not getting any bloody YOUNGER Rupert and this is definitely an ultimatum!, I want princess cut on platinum please and yes, of COURSE the one with little sapphires all around it…

In short, don’t fucking judge us and our choices unless you’re prepared for me to judge yours. Harshly.

— 1 year ago with 1 note
#weddings  #snobbery  #stuck up arseholes  #rant  #long engagements  #engagements  #wedding fair  #blog  #real life 
breaking the silence

It’s been a seriously long time since I really wrote anything here. It was something I used to do to kill time around this time last year when I had no job, G was at work from 6:30am until 9:30pm every day and I had nothing at all to do. Well, here I am again: I have no job, G is at work 7am-7pm five days a week (and half a day on Saturdays) and what’s more, he lives two and a half hours a way by train anyway….except that this time I do have things to do. Two things, in fact, which are two 4,000 word essays that I am in theory supposed to be working on right now…

Today hasn’t been a good start. I’m still in my pyjamas, feeling inexplicably mournful, and haven’t even thought about my work. The first essay is in English. I have actually started it and have nearly 1,500 words. Problem is, that means there are 2,500 words left to write and I feel like every single one of them is screaming my name in my ear. I believe that my chronic procrastination is really a sort of internal rebellion against this maddening pressure. However, unlike many rebellions, the only result this one will eventually have is making me fail my degree. Fuck. (I think I just explained why I’m feeling mournful.)

My other problem is that, after nine months of doing very little writing, that part of my brain seems to have atrophied. This post is a slightly feeble attempt to get my flow restarted.

It’s a shame; I have always considered myself a creative person, but I don’t think I am anymore. How can you call yourself creative when you don’t create anything? I haven’t written anything non-academic in years (apart from probably very awful poetry which I am terrified to show to anyone other than anonymously). I don’t remember the last time I painted or drew. I can’t write music. I’d love to be crafty, but I think I’m probably too lazy. I never finish creative projects. I spend most of my life at the moment wasting time on the Internet and getting fat.

Really, I spend most of my time waiting. Waiting for inspiration to finish my essay, waiting for someone to call me and ask me to do something (doesn’t happen often, everyone is busy and working and seems to have forgotten I’ve moved back to England anyway) and most of all waiting to be with G. Well, I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of this house, which is no longer mine but my parents’. I’m tired of feeling like a useless, bovine lump that does nothing but consume the content of others. I’m tired of feeling tired, even though I’ve done nothing all day.

So I’m changing it. I’m not waiting anymore. I’m going to start tutoring again, to raise some money. I’m going to finish my first essay and start my second, not waiting for inspiration but dragging it kicking and screaming out of my own blunted, out-of-practice-but-still-fucking-intelligent-and-godammit-still-creative mind. I’m going to arrange to see people. I might even write something.

First of all, though, I’m going to get dressed.

Thank you for reading this ramble, if anyone has. Expect to see more of me again. Writing something, anything, seems to help. I feel blocked, and if I can manage to slightly shift the mass of lethargy and comedown blues and whatever else it is that’s blocking me, I’m hoping it will all come dislodged and come tumbling out in a wave of productivity and accomplishment. Here’s hoping.

— 1 year ago

elegantpaws:

vulgarweed:

sandandglass:

Total respect. 

Not only was she the first female writer to make the Forbes billionaires list, she then became one of the very few people to take herself off that list by giving so much to charity that it actually made a dent in her fortune.

And she gets it. There aren’t enough generous billionaires in the world who remember where they came from, therefore private charity isn’t the ultimate (only) answer to poverty like some politicians would have us believe. We are all interconnected, we all need each other, in democratic countries we are part of the government, and so keeping needy people from falling into complete destitution and despair is an important and worthy role for government to take. It benefits all of us in the long run. And nobody who feels comfortable and secure now (fewer and fewer of those people around these days) has any guarantee they won’t need help themselves someday.

JK Rowling…reason numbers 2.7 billion why I adore this woman.

(via zellain)

— 1 year ago with 163917 notes
Immigration, Benefits, Daily Mail Bullshit and You

[Warning: this is long, semi-political and basically a rant, although I have tried to back up my statements with fact as much as possible. It may lack structure and seem at times emotional, but I don’t feel like emotion can easily or usefully be separated from this subject. Make of it what you will.]

I wanted to write this as a reaction to the right-wing, Daily Mail-style anti-immigration rhetoric which is currently being shared by many Facebook users, some of whom are my friends. Understandably, in a time of recession, economic upheaval and high unemployment, people are frustrated and concerned about their prospects and standard of life. However, this too often manifests itself in the form of knee-jerk nationalism, which the right-wing press does much to inflame. British unemployment is blamed on immigrants, who - supposedly - are handed positions that rightfully belong to British nationals. However, immigrants are also blamed for draining the welfare system, through - supposedly - their wilful abuse of unemployment benefits. (Either they’re taking all our jobs, or they can’t be arsed to work. Pick one and stick to it, Daily Mail.)

Recently, there seems to have been a huge increase in the amount of nasty, nationalist, reactionary propaganda circulated on Facebook and the like. Specifically, the kind that targets asylum seekers, refugees and migrants, and which lumps all three into the same category - “immigrants”. It’s almost become a dirty word.

This is worrying on more than one level: both on a national scale and, for me, on a more personal one. This may come as a surprise to people who are unaware that such a status can apply to pale-skinned, red-haired, overwhelmingly Anglo-Saxon British nationals, but it’s the truth; I am an immigrant, too.

I have been an immigrant for six months, and I will remain an immigrant for two more. Like around 68% of immigrants living in the U.K., I am employed and do not claim any state unemployment benefits. I am lucky enough to be able to rent my own accommodation without state support, like around 78% of immigrants living in the U.K. (Bear in mind that these figures are only around 10% lower than those of British nationals. Inarguably, these are hard times for everyone.)

My situation, as a 22-year-old employed immigrant living in a country where over 50% of young people are unemployed, is an incredibly privileged one. Although the situation is currently rather dire in the U.K. (and even more so in Spain), as first world citizens we would do well to remember that we are still hugely lucky. Our governments - ailing, corrupt and imperfect as they may be - do a comparatively excellent job of making sure our young, old, sick, homeless and disadvantaged do not want for shelter or food. The majority of us are extremely unlikely to die of starvation, thirst or curable diseases. Most of us are not likely to die at the hands of another human being, nor at the request of the state. We are the safe, sound minority, there but for the grace of God, or more accurately geography. I look around me at the people even in this country, both nationals and non-nationals, who have not been as fortunate as me, and I am reminded of how thin the margin that separates us truly is.

If you are reading this, I hope you will do yourself a service and educate yourself on the facts before you choose to perpetuate some of the illogical, poorly-researched and frankly racist arguments supported by the right-wing media and some politicians. I also hope you will really think about what might have become of you and your family, had you not been born into such lucky circumstances - and whether or not you are comfortable with the idea of denying other human beings a share of such arbitrary good fortune.

— 1 year ago with 3 notes
#britain  #england  #uk  #immigration  #recession  #economy  #poverty  #refugees  #asylum seekers  #humanism  #politics  #right-wing  #left-wing  #media  #daily mail  #crisis  #benefits  #welfare  #immigrants  #employment  #unemployment 

joebagofdoughnuts:

I can’t really explain why, but abandoned places like this have always fascinated me. Maybe it’s the stories they can tell. So much more interesting than the cut and paste type of architecture that has become the norm today….

I really really do want to go to there….

(via wilwheaton)

— 1 year ago with 110614 notes
#iwanttogotothere  #travel  #abandoned  #ghost city