1. Run away to Brooklyn. Rent an apartment with a claw footed bathtub. Commute to Manhattan during the week and put in hours at a menial publishing job. Drive home to New Jersey on weekends to swim in the pool and cry to your mother. Smoke Gauloises on the fire escape. Let yellowing issues of Rolling Stone and Vogue pile into a protective fortress around your bed. Listen to Cat Power. Fall asleep mostly naked beneath the duvet watching Sportscenter and drinking earl grey. Date a Yankees fan and kiss his hands on the 4 Train into the Bronx.
2. Run away to Barcelona. Eat milk chocolate magnum bars and drink cheap champagne. Burst into charming fits of laughter whenever you get embarrassed about butchering the Catalan language. Wear denim cutoffs, Dr. Pepper chapstick, and very little else. Go dancing at 3 a.m. Whiten your teeth. Tan your shoulders. Braid feathers into your hair. Perpetually wake up with sand caught in the thin cotton sheets of your tiny bed. Listen to the Rolling Stones and kiss all the longhaired boys you can get your hands on without ever having to apologize.
3. Run away to Los Angeles. Sublet a studio in Venice three blocks from the beach. Listen to top 40 radio. Go to Chateau Marmont and charge drinks you can’t afford to a long-dormant credit card. Sleep with a television actor who lives in the valley. Sleep with a musician who lives in Bel Air. Break things off with both of them when gas prices begin to rise. Find Gilda Radner’s star on the Walk Of Fame and swallow a sob when you see the filthy cement around her name is cracked. Walk through the Venice Canals until the sun sets and you forget your own name. Call your mother crying from the parking lot of a 24-hour Ralph’s supermarket. Tell her you want to come home.
4. Run away to Paris. Gaze at the pink and pistachio glow of macarons in the window on Boulevard Saint-Germain. Listen to Joni Mitchell. Meet an Argentinean man in the Latin Quarter for drinks. Melt into his accent and kiss him goodnight, but return to your apartment alone because his face doesn’t look enough like the man’s you are trying to forget. Get lost in the Richelieu Wing of the Louvre, admiring Napoleon’s fine red damask. Walk alone along the Seine in an old dress, ten-dollar shoes, and an Hermes scarf. Fumble with the locks on the fence overlooking the river. They all have lovers’ names etched into them and the girl who left the red heart-shaped lock has the same name as you.
5. Run away to Martha’s Vineyard. Write heartbroken stories during the day in front of a large fan that blows curls of humid hair across your tired face. Take a waitress job at The Black Dog at night and try hard not to drop too many trays. Learn to ride a moped. Pretend you’re a Kennedy. Listen to Carly Simon. Eat hand-churned ice cream out of waffle cones. Visit the flying horses and consider how many girls just like you have sat on the same horse clutching for the same brass ring. Get stoned and dance barefoot down the length of the eroded Jaws beach. Date a Red Sox fan. Yell at each other during baseball games, and then kiss and make up between tangled sheets.
Portable Personal Washing Machine for Travelers: Shaking Wash - Gezginler için Taşınabilir Kişisel Çamaşır Makinesi: Çalkalayarak Yıkama by Jung Seub Lee
Brilliant. I want to drink irs brain and absorb its power.
[COLLEGE KID INTENSIFIES]
Lawrence’s parents — her dad owned a construction business; the two now run a summer day camp-were initially less than thrilled with their daughter’s decision to become an actress.
When Lawrence was 14, she persuaded them to let her spend the summer in New York City going on auditions. As summer came to an end, her parents wanted her to come back home already. In the midst of their arguments, Lawrence happened to see a newspaper story about a boy from Kentucky starring in a new movie called Little Manhattan. “I was like, ‘Look, see? He’s from Kentucky and he made it’ I can do it too!’ And, weirdly, it helped them accept that this is what I wanted to do.”
That boy was Josh Hutcherson. In a nifty twist of fate, he’ll play Peeta, Lawrence’s favorite character from the Hunger Games trilogy.
(Jennifer in the EW Hunger Games issue)
my heart just got shreded
Probably a huge factor as to why she is so close with Josh. Talk about fate. How beautiful.
|me when i am mildly inconvenienced:||thIS IS THE WORST THING THAT'S EVER HAPPENED TO ME|
|me when i am legitimately hurt/distressed:||no no it's fine i've had worse|
I’ve begun silently fighting back against jerks on the subway who sit as spread out as possible. Basically I match your stance.
This guy was sitting on the train with his knees splayed and his hands on the seat to either side of him. So I slowly backed up into the seat next to him forcing him to either move his hand or have me sit on it. Then I spread my knees equally wide and stuck my elbows out just as far.
It’s amazing how uncomfortable this makes men.
Eventually he closed his knees more (so I closed mine.) The ladies across from me noticed this silent warfare and were slightly confused. When he finally got off the train and I sat like a “lady” they realized what I did and grinned at me.
Yep. This is my new thing to do on the subway.
ur a little rebel i like u
You know why most guys sit like that?
It’s a body language signal known as a “crotch display” and it’s used to show dominance/confidence.
This is why guys get uncomfortable when women do this, and also why women are told to sit “like a lady” - basically, without the crotch display. When women do it, they’re telling all the dudes that they’re either stronger or on equal standing with them.
So I say right on, ladies! Go for it.
WE DO NOT SIT WITH OUT LEGS SPREAD BECAUSE WE WANT TO ‘SEXUALLY DOMINATE THE SCENE’ OR WHATEVER BULLCRAP YOU WANT TO COME UP WITH.
WE SIT LIKE THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE TESTICLES IN THE MIDDLE THAT ARE FUCKING SENSITIVE TO HEAT AND PRESSURE, MAKING IT MORE COMFORTABLE TO SPREAD OUR LEGS.
WE CLOSE OURS WHEN YOU ‘IMITATE’ US BECAUSE WE REALISE YOU WANT MORE SPACE AND SO WE BE POLITE AND GIVE IT TO YOU
WE SIT LIKE THIS ANYWHERE
HOW ARE WE OPRESSING YOU WHEN WE SIT LIKE THIS ON OUR OWN, IN PRIVATE?
NOT EVERYTHING IS THE GODDAMN PATRIARCHY
tumblr user mccoy-being-angry-at-things, you are fantastic