is saying “horses” when you pass a field of horses a midwesterner thing or a whole ass national thing bc ive never been in a car when we passed a field and somebody has to just say Horses in a monotone voice and we all look and nodd and keep drivin
Airports are fucking weird. Like I’m dressed like it’s ‘95 drinking wine and there’s a dude in a three pieced suit next to me, someone in pajamas, someone who looks like they’re going to the gym after this, and like a million button up shirts.
Update. I’m hammered.
Second update: I’m sober now but very fucking tired and in a different airport.
Additionally: I have no idea where the fuck I am
Important information: I’m fairly sure Douglas Adams was just fucking paged??? What the hell???
Have you checked if you’re alive?
Buddy I haven’t cared about blood pumping through my veins since 1920. You just gotta move on and do your own thing.
So you’re saying there’s a chance you’re tumblring your ‘airport’ adventures from the afterlife?
im saying it doesnt matter because i have access to the internet
dear tweens and teens: please dont equate “self care” with buying a bunch of useless shit because some shill account on instagram told you to. any type of “self care” that involves consumerism is snake oil and a better way to care for yourself and build your personal self worth is through self actualizing activities i.e. go make art, go plant trees, go volunteer for a food bank, go organize!!!
i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second
anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk
and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something
paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.
i say, paul.
is that a nerf gun.
yeah, says paul.
i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.
he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?
and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–
a foam dart hits me in the leg.
i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.
i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.
no dart this time. okay. sweet.
so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it
anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.
The “I won’t hesitate, bitch” vine but @ friends who don’t love themselves
when your otp has an honest talk only in dire situations, like when they’re running full tilt being carried by the wind shouting at the top of their lungs
(the movie made this flying thing so romantic, but the book version is basically ‘howl and sophie scream into the wind as it slams them back to the castle’)
rip tumblr 