(Source: wenchyfloozymoo, via parksandswanson)

 

Now there are three kinds of music on this “Fantasia” program. First, there’s the kind that tells a definite story. Then there’s the kind that while it has no specific plot, it does paint a series of more or less definite pictures. And then there’s a third kind, music that exists simply for its own sake.

 

Now there are three kinds of music on this “Fantasia” program. First, there’s the kind that tells a definite story. Then there’s the kind that while it has no specific plot, it does paint a series of more or less definite pictures. And then there’s a third kind, music that exists simply for its own sake.

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“Be easy on yourself. Have fun. Only hang around people that are positive and make you feel good. Anybody who doesn’t make you feel good, kick them to the curb. And the earlier you start in your life the better. The minute anybody makes you feel weird and non-included or not supported, you know, either beat it or tell them to beat it.”
Happy Birthday to my spirit animal, Amy Poehler. She’s a boss bitch and I admire the hell out of her for it. 

Be easy on yourself. Have fun. Only hang around people that are positive and make you feel good. Anybody who doesn’t make you feel good, kick them to the curb. And the earlier you start in your life the better. The minute anybody makes you feel weird and non-included or not supported, you know, either beat it or tell them to beat it.”

Happy Birthday to my spirit animal, Amy Poehler. 
She’s a boss bitch and I admire the hell out of her for it. 

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Alice (Něco z Alenky), Jan Švankmajer (1988)
Autumn is coming

Bring it onnnnnn

 

Alice (Něco z Alenky), Jan Švankmajer (1988)

Autumn is coming

Bring it onnnnnn

(via misplaced-wings)

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me, erryday

me, erryday

(via queenpiss)

Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning

I just read that Bill Murray suggested Melissa McCarthy to play in an all female Ghostbusters revamp and it may be the most appropriate casting of all time. 
I could really get into it if they took the time to cast some real women of comedy.

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Play Date

I know this sounds utterly ridiculous, but right now my son has his best friend over for a playdate at our house for the first time. 

I am a nervous person, and I am a “teenage mother” (I am now 26, but the stigma follows you forever, it seems) and these combined offer absolutely zero confidence in parental sociability.
My boy often goes to other’s for playdates, but we rarely invite people over because hosting makes me anxious as fuck - I basically assume I am being judged all the time and that the kids will go home and talk to their parents about how boring I am and how gross my snacks are and how messy my bathroom is, further perpetuating the assumption that I, as a young, reclusive parent, am deeply flawed and deserve to be looked down upon.

Now, I bet you probably read that with a raised, scrunched brow, thinking “Take a pill, yo.”.

That’s what I’m working on. I took the boy to a birthday party the other day and realized that I was the only parent who the other parents and kids didn’t know well enough to bother saying hi to, and I’m like… DAMN. I need to step up my game. 

So, I bucked up and reached out to some parents. I need to remind myself that I don’t need to get the parents to like me, I just need to create the space for Jonah to feel he can invite people into his world.

A plastic ladel just melted to death in my fucking dishwasher. 

HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?!

Luckily I caught it before it burnt the house down. I did not catch it before it filled the house with toxic smoke. 

Saturday night - first free weekend in about a month - and I’m sitting on my couch watching netflix.

I had plans to hit a few shows and meet up with a bunch of pals, but I wound up having to take the kid out to a birthday party in Richmond this afternoon via public transit, so I had to hang out out there and kill time by basically wandering my ass around for a few hours, and I ended up spending my entire day on that, so by the time I got home I was just wiped. Blisters on my feet, hot, starving, grumpy. Nothing left to ride the night with.
I feel like a moron because I should have known, I should have prepared for this. I know that I need breaks, and it’s been 3 weeks since I had a real moment to myself, likely to be much longer with the school strike, and I knew agreeing to give up my day to do this was a poor decision for myself, but I couldn’t let my boy miss his best friend’s birthday party, and I was the only one available to take him, so it was a no brainer. 

Still, I feel heavy inside. I honestly can’t complain for much, but my chance for a 24 hour block of peace, and quiet, and putting myself first is past me and it will be another week or two until I get the chance again. 

So, I go into self care mode. I spend my evening at home, relaxing with my love, trying to center myself. Unfortunately it’s not working so well. I feel defeated tonight. I can’t seem to find my comfort zone. 
BUT AS THEY SAY… When lacking a comfort zone, make one. For me that’s man, bed, and an endless stream of parks and rec.

BOOSH

Just cleaned my entire kitchen (including unloading / loading the dishwasher) in the 3-5 minutes allocated for my tea to brew. BOOSH.

*Cause I’m WOOOOMAN / W-O-M-A-N*