- 4 months ago
Today is the 30th anniversary of the Breakfast Club detention.
Tonight is the second to last episode of HIMYM ever.
This is in honor of both. Remember when the gang couldn’t coordinate their Breakfast Club costumes?
- 9 months ago
In case you are a fan of same sex unions, weddings in general, or are just really itching to know what I look like (or my wife, as I haven’t posted a picture of her yet [she’s the adorable one in the suspenders]) here’s the promised wedding picture spam.
Best day of my life.
Okay, but see here’s the thing. I want all of you to understand this thing:
I posted these wedding photos because this was the most amazing day of my life. I’ve been married for about two months, and goddammit, it has been just the best, you know? Like, this woman, in these photographs? She’s incredible. She’s unreal. She’s kind and she’s thoughtful and she’s everything I never thought I deserved. She’s the woman who I get to spend the rest of my ridiculously lucky life with.
It’s so simple to me, to us.
But it’s so complicated to so much of the world. She and I can’t walk into the grocery store holding hands. I get tight-lipped when someone compliments my ring at work because I can’t determine if they are going to be “cool” with it or not. If they’ll report me for being “inappropriate” in our online survey. Again. My wife was fired from a job as a driver for a children’s occupational therapist because her boss saw us kiss at the mall— because she couldn’t have “that kind of person” around children. I walked myself down the aisle at my wedding because a church told my parents that it wasn’t possible for them to attend my wedding.
And we’ve had it so easy! Our lives have been blissfully carefree compared to so many. We have the most amazing friends and family and life is pretty fucking sweet.
But here’s the thing I wanted to tell you. This post I made, to try to just share my little square of happiness with my little square of the internet, has literally tens of thousands of notes. Tens of thousands. I’ve gained hundreds of followers and my inbox runneth over. And not a single message I’ve received, not a single reblog that I have been able to find, has had anything to say but amazing, beautiful, kind words of congratulations. No bullying. No trolling. No inappropriate offers or lewd remarks. Out of tens of thousands.
That’s not something I’m used to. It’s not something anyone in the LGBTQ community is used to.
Do you even get how amazing you are? You, the denizens of Tumblr. Do you understand that? I am so exceedingly proud of you, you wacky kids. You are all such incredible people, with such kind and open hearts, and I wish I could hug each and every one of your necks.
So if you are having any sort of rough day, please know that there is this tiny lesbian couple in northeast America who likes you just a whole lot, okay? You’ve overwhelmed us.
Thank you. We love you.
Absolutely beautiful #loveisloveSource: staythatswhatimeanttosay
- 9 months ago
- 10 months ago
here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.
In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.
The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.
And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.
You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
This is so sweet.
- 10 months ago
I can’t find a source for this, but I saw it on Reddit.
The artist is Marilen Adrover.
Her work isn’t getting enough love considering it’s all over the internet (all 4 pieces have under 100 faves.) So I encourage everyone that liked or reblogged this to go to her deviantart and let her know how awesome her work is.
Yay!! Attribution for a wonderful artist! Please reblog this if you reblogged the non-attributed version.
(via amandaandsuch)Source: wilwheaton
- 10 months ago