…..fyi, of course I went for haughty/aloof. Did you even have a doubt really

oh boy I’m in the bathroom stall and two women are trash talking tattoos hohoho can’t decide to stay hiding or walk out looking haughty

nextyearsgirl:

mybullshitassl1f3:

tumbling-torterra:

a-strawbarry:

houseofheavy:

etspiritusvitae:

the female body is hardcore as fuck. 

Yes is it.

so is the male body
it’s sad to see so many people like this on this website


OP is praising the fact that women hold a fucking infant in their belly the size of a ribcage, get the fuck over yourself for 3.5 seconds.


Women knit together, carry, and expel tiny humans the size of watermelon regularly, while men get a soft breeze to the testicles and are down for the count for half an hour. Women are true punks.

nextyearsgirl:

mybullshitassl1f3:

tumbling-torterra:

a-strawbarry:

houseofheavy:

etspiritusvitae:

the female body is hardcore as fuck.

Yes is it.

so is the male body

it’s sad to see so many people like this on this website

OP is praising the fact that women hold a fucking infant in their belly the size of a ribcage, get the fuck over yourself for 3.5 seconds.

Women knit together, carry, and expel tiny humans the size of watermelon regularly, while men get a soft breeze to the testicles and are down for the count for half an hour. Women are true punks.

(via nextyearsgirlisaghostnow)

medieval-women:

A 13th century miniature of Cistercian nuns attending mass. Two of the nuns hold open books, and the abbess holds a book and crozier. 

Almost all female religious orders required nuns to live behind monastery walls and focus on work, prayer and contemplation. Some women chose this life due to religious convictions, widowhood or the desire to avoid marriage and the dangers of childbearing. Others were obliged to enter a convent if their parents could not afford their dowry or they were considered otherwise unfit for marriage.

The leader of the convent, the abbess, was often a wealthy noblewoman. The abbess held seniority over monks in combined monastic communities and her role generally provided her with great power and responsibility. For example, Matilda, the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, had the power of a bishop and held jurisdiction over several cities when she was abbess of Quedlinburg in the 10th century.

BL Shelfmark: Yates Thompson 11 f. 6v 

Sources: 1. 2. 3.

Those tags tho 💙💙💙
#I care so much about medieval nuns #like I really care #sometimes I think my supposed desire to become a sister is actually a desire to become a medieval nun #primary tokophobia #religion is inherently disorganised #religious life
My only question is, when can you and I sit down for a coffee??

medieval-women:

A 13th century miniature of Cistercian nuns attending mass. Two of the nuns hold open books, and the abbess holds a book and crozier.

Almost all female religious orders required nuns to live behind monastery walls and focus on work, prayer and contemplation. Some women chose this life due to religious convictions, widowhood or the desire to avoid marriage and the dangers of childbearing. Others were obliged to enter a convent if their parents could not afford their dowry or they were considered otherwise unfit for marriage.

The leader of the convent, the abbess, was often a wealthy noblewoman. The abbess held seniority over monks in combined monastic communities and her role generally provided her with great power and responsibility. For example, Matilda, the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, had the power of a bishop and held jurisdiction over several cities when she was abbess of Quedlinburg in the 10th century.

BL Shelfmark: Yates Thompson 11 f. 6v

Sources: 1. 2. 3.

Those tags tho 💙💙💙

#I care so much about medieval nuns #like I really care #sometimes I think my supposed desire to become a sister is actually a desire to become a medieval nun #primary tokophobia #religion is inherently disorganised #religious life

My only question is, when can you and I sit down for a coffee??

(via newfavething)

fortunately my manager & I go way back before this job and are both goofballs

<b> <b></b> Me:</b> (carrying enormous pot for rice cooker) Hey<p><b>Mgmt:</b> Hey<p><b>Me:</b> So I was thinking that I'd be into picking up a 5th day if you need it<p><b>Mgmt:</b> Oh yeah? Like next week?<p><b>Me:</b> Like, most weeks. You know, if you can work something out now whenever, and maybe after the holidays it can be a regular thing.<p><b>Mgmt:</b> Is it for financial reasons or.....<p><b>Me:</b> (doing a little dance with giant rice pot) I mean, I'm not in trouble, I mean.....what do you mean?<p><b>Mgmt:</b> Well since L. is leaving, I don't want you to feel like you have to be full time just to prove a point or hold things togeth-<p><b>Me:</b> (Placing pot over entire head) IIIIII HAAAAAVE LIIIIIFE PLAAAAAAAAANS AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH<p><p>

You called me, you cried out, you shattered my deafness: you flashed, you shone, you scattered my blindness: you breathed perfume, and I drew in my breath and I pant for you: I tasted, and I am hungry and thirsty: you touched me and I burned for your peace.

St Augustine  (via awgusteen)

(via fiatluxetfactaestlux)

Listening to the timbre of the conversations at the Dane County Farmers Market, one of the largest in the country, you’d think the topic was vaccination or Gaza. “What exactly is in this scone?” “Are your emus happy? How much space do they have to roam free?” “When you say ‘flour’ on the label, what kind of flour is that?”

Yet food pantries remain full of the same canned pumpkin and expired boxed meals they always have. Obese people are shamed and told what to eat, while people deemed skinny enough to have an eating disorder are also shamed for not taking care of their “health.” There is a serious disconnect here that should tell anyone who’s paying attention that this is not about justice or health in any form––it is about vanity.

When asking the server how the animal being served was prepared, no one seems to wonder whether that server has basic health insurance or whether that server is affected by the fact that the restaurant industry has one of the highest rates of sexual harassment and lowest rates of pay. When waxing poetic about the “salt of the Earth” farmers from which they buy their unpasteurized milk, no one seems to worry that an estimated 10 percent of American farm workers are children. When pearl-clutching over the things we “don’t know” about GMOs, as Kavin pointed out, no one seems to be concerned about their presence in groceries found at Price Rite––only products sold at Whole Foods.

To the Christian Woman

jumpinjulianofnorwich:

The first thing you learn as a Christian woman
is that your body belongs to God.
From consecrated picket lines outside of clinics strumming
“What if Jesus had been aborted?” on Evangelic guitars
to the ten year girls in purity ball dresses that make them look like tiny ghosts,
pledging their virginity to fathers looming over them in
judgment day suits
you might think being a Christian woman means choosing between having “virginity” or
“future home of good Christian babies” tattooed across your uterus
like baptism was a trip to the gynecologist.

The first thing you learn as a Christian woman
is that your body is a temple.
That it exists only to be cleaned, that nothing makes a girl look pretty
like purity rings and confirmations.
Christian women have never called themselves pretty.
They call themselves “devoted” “faithful”
“mother” “martyr” “mystic”
because why just be pretty when there are so many ways
to make your body sacred?

The first thing you learn as a Christian woman
is that you have a lot to live up to.
From the day you set foot in a church you will be compared to women
who died
rather than disobey God.
So when they clamor for your obedience call yourself Perpetua
staring down the Romans covered in the blood of every man who
tries to deny you your faith. Call yourself Joan, your body
igniting in flames, one last reminder that a woman
stood at the head of God’s armies. Call yourself Julian,
say “I will be a living proof of God’s love.” Call yourself every woman of faith
who, when their fathers and brothers and husbands demanded the tithe of their bodies
screamed back “NO!” with voices that rattled the heavens.
Remind them the moment you were saved was not when Jesus died on the cross
but the moment a poor, unmarried, Middle Eastern Jewish teenager
with fear and joy writing shaky psalms across her heart
said “Yes I will bear salvation
into the broken body of this world.” Because even God had to ask consent
before He touched a women’s body
so why the fuck can’t they?

The first thing you learn as a Christian woman is that when you give your body
whether to prayer, to your lover, to your children
you are still pledging it to God
because it is not His to take,
it is yours to give.
When they tell you otherwise
grab the pulpit, the altar, the nails
holding the pews to the floor, grab onto everything your hands can hold and don’t
let
go.
Make your body stained glass so when they look at you
they will see the history of their faith
illuminated in the body of a woman
and call it truth.
Let them know this is your home
and they cannot decide how you will exist in it.

Remind them your body
is a burning oven in a house on fire,
that it is the exploding center of your belief.

Burn brightly enough that they cannot look away.  

(via pulverheks)