Seizure First Aid.
Learn it. Share it. Know it. Use it.
100% correct medical information on tumblr for once; also consider calling 911 if you don’t know how often the person has seizures and ESPECIALLY if the seizure has lasted 5 minutes or more (which is why the watch is critical)
This is so important!
Worf needs to work on his chatter
No, Worf’s chatter is a gift to us all. Change nothing, mighty Klingon.
What? This is how I start every work day.
Henry Cavill on the set of ‘THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.’
"we're gonna put sarah through the wringer" - graeme manson
I chased a man across the seven seas. The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission, and my life.
If they try to take away mama McCall’s award for best mom, I’m going to be so fucking pissed.
(And if it involved cheating I’m going to punch someone in the throat.)
[And how does Stiles know? Was he eavesdropping on a conversation because would his dad just up and tell him whatever this terrible secret is?]
teen wolf wins the award for lazy writing
Probably she admitted that she was just really sick of Scott watching Finding Nemo twice a day. “I just want all those stupid fish to SHUT UP and DIE,” she said. Stiles was DEEPLY offended, but he knew that his love for Finding Nemo was DWARFED by Scott’s. DWARFED. He knew that Scott would never be able to forgive this. Never.
The nogitsune, however, has no freaking idea what Finding Nemo is. All he knows is that the memory of the wound is like an agonizing crater buried deep in Stiles’s mind. As far as the nogitsune can tell, this is the most hideous betrayal imaginable. From how badly the memory burns in Stiles’s fierce little brain, Melissa probably belongs in prison five times over. The nogitsune probably thinks that Nemo was Scott’s long-lost twin, and that “Finding Nemo” was a documentary about his kidnapping and disappearance.
Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”
It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.
And I got angry.
Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”
Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)
If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.
Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be keptinterested, because he knows you are interesting:
I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.
I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.
I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.
I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.
I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.
I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.
I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.
In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:
Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
Happy International Women’s Day
IM CRYING IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS
I teared up. You got me.
Awww. That was beautiful, and important.
pro tip: play “bad girls” by m.i.a while getting dressed in the morning. 100% guaranteed to make you feel like a punk rock ho ready to con the shit out of someone’s bank.
Jealous Husky [x]
men took my little pony away from us girls so us teen girls are takin pro wrestling fuck yall just try n stop us
have fun fetishizing the shit out of *real life* celebrities. it actually makes the people who sexualize the shit out of children’s cartoons seem normal.
did you just imply being attracted to actual real human males isn’t normal but wanting to fuck cartoon horses is
I need to reblog this again because it still makes me laugh
19th Century Queer Couples
1. 1891 – Photo by Alice Austen
2. 1855 – Martha O’Curry
3. 1890 – via www.ChloeAndOlivia.wordpress.com
4. 1890 – via www.Flickr.com/photos/SShreeves
5. 1899 – via FYeahQueerVintage.tumblr.com
6. 1900 – Anna Moor and Elsie Dale
7. 1900 – Young souple seated in garden, from the Powerhouse Museum Collection, via HerSaturnReturns.com
8. Kitty Ely, Class of 1887 (L) and Helen Emory Class of 1889, Mount Holyoke Students, via VintagePhoto.Livejournal.com
10. Lily Elise and Adrienne Augarde, 1907, via FYeahQueerVintage.tumblr.com
Collected by Marie Lyn Bernard, via retronaut
This is an amazing collection. I think what excites me so much about it, apart from the PDAs which indicate these are clearly romantic relationships and not just friendships, is the women of colour who are included. No 2 is even an inter-racial couple!
To add to this relationships such as these were able to be visible because during this era women were considered sex-less, that is that they did not have sex, so they could only have innocently amorous relationships with other women. In addition, in the late Victorian/early Edwardian era there was a large lesbian subculture where women had openly butch/femme relationships where one partner would often pass as a male and would accompany the other woman in public and be her escort to events and the like. Within that culture were femme/femme relationships, and sometimes butch/butch relationships. This practice was surprisingly popular among the higher class, where it was seen as entertainment for the women involved by the outside world. This culture was also accompanied by theatrical instances of cross-dressing lesbians who often became very famous. On the more extreme side of the culture were groups of high class women who had large balls that essentially would boil down to lavish orgies.
For the middle class, however, it was very easy for women to be in such relationships with little questioning as women were encouraged to live together as living with a male who was not family was immoral, and those who chose to be ‘spinsters’ often lived with a close friend. Often times in these situations the women would be in a relationship, where in some cases one partner would cross-dress though that was not always the case. When women lived together, it was rarely seen as questionable if the two became very close, and women were encouraged to have these sorts of relationships.
queen victoria didn’t believe lesbianism existed so she didn’t really notice what was actually going on
Since I posted these photos 2 months ago (and they got over 25,000 notes, holy fuck!) I’ve noticed a lot of comments about how women could totally be lesbians in public in the 19th century because Victorians didn’t know what the hell was going on. I’m not going to go through them all individually, but I just wanted to address that general idea.*
First of all, the notion that Queen Victoria didn’t believe lesbianism existed, or refused to sign legislation criminalising sex acts between two women because she ‘couldn’t understand how two women could have sex’ because neither party had a penis is a myth. We don’t really know what Queen Victoria knew or thought about lesbianism or sex between women at all.
Secondly, don’t be fooled by the purity/sexless myth. Contrary to popular belief, Victorians were pretty sex-obsessed and talked about it a lot, even if in veiled terms. They were obsessed in particular with women’s sexuality and their ‘sexual perversions’, as evidenced by the huge body of medical literature on the subject, and many newspaper articles and pamphlets. Sexual relationships between women were definitely less spoken about and less well understood than male homosexual relationships in the 19th century, but they knew what they were. Having sex with another woman wasn’t illegal, but women who loved other women were labelled ‘inverts’ and at risk of being put in mental asylums if they were exposed.
The possibility a woman was a queer was also absolutely scandalous and could also ruin a woman’s reputation. It didn’t have to be true, the gossip was enough. Emily Faithfull, a publisher and women’s rights activist, was named in a divorce case as having committed adultery with the wife of an Admiral (clearly the lawyers and judges in that case thought women COULD have sex with one another), and it almost ruined her publishing business and branded her a social pariah. (She was probably gay btw, but there are other cases of women who weren’t and who had gossip about their sexual habits used against them).
Of course, the 19th century was a long time in which many social changes occurred, and Victorian society was a big place. In some sections of society, and in some places and at some times, people were pretty OK (relatively speaking) with romantic-sexual relationships between women. (It was pretty well accepted in literary circles, for example.) Then some women were just gutsy as hell and could get away with a lot through their sheer awesomeness (see Anne Lister).
It was also much easier for women in same sex relationships to pass under the radar than men because of the notion of ‘romantic friendship’ which existed between women in the 19th century (well, middle- and upper-class women anyway). In romantic friendships, women kissed, hugged, touched in public and wrote love letters to one another, and this was all considered acceptable and even desirable. In fact, because of the practice of romantic friendship it’s quite hard to tell with some 19th century relationships between women whether they were platonic friendships or long-term romantic relationships. Modern eyes tend to read them as sexual, but the fact is we just don’t know.
As queermindsfuckalike pointed out in their awesome comment, queer women were often able to use social mores and ideas about women and femininity (as well as the remarkably easygoing attitude to cross-dressing during certain parts of the 19th century) to conduct their relationships in peace; though they still lived lives at least partially in the shadows, and wrote and spoke of their sexual and romantic lives in code.
It was very dangerous to be lesbian in the 19th century. Despite the complexities of the situation - and the fact these women wore pretty dresses or boss cravats - let’s not romanticise the situation and pretend the 19th century was a wonderful place to be for sapphics. The women in these pictures were incredibly brave and fabulous for living so openly together.
* I’m not going to deal with the Edwardian era because it’s just too big and complicated and I don’t know enough about it.