fuck “girl lunch” fuck “girl math” a woman is a hairy animal who sweats and grunts and excretes and hungers and gets wrinkly and dies eventually. you have to love that.
Oh wow. I definitely saw the bottom one - or one very like it by the same artist - in person as a kid, and was very moved by it at the time. Nice to see you again, fish quilt!
(x)
The way this quilter uses well-chosen batiks to capture textures is just amazing. Also, I love that the fabrics in this piece tie it to coelacanths’ native range:
Populations still survive in the deep waters off the coast of Madagascar and in Indonesia, on the other side of the Indian Ocean. When choosing fabrics for this quilt I picked Indonesian batiks in rich indigos for the fish, floating on a hand-printed cloth from Africa, therefore placing the coelacanth in her natural location of the world. The title, “Gombessa”, is the African name given to this creature.
girl dinner (big fucking plate of carbs and protein) girl math (complex analysis) girl career (trades and engineering and politics and compsci) girl sports (dirtbikes and football and weightlifting) girl instruments (drums and bass guitar and electric) girl personality (loud and opinionated and annoying and brash)
I think it needs to become common knowledge that “inability to read social cues” can show up as overcompensating.
You don’t know how much misbehaviour is allowed, so you become the perfect child who never tests rules.
You don’t know if someone is irritated with you, so you’ll be extra generous and self-effacing.
You don’t know how much is expected of you at work so you’ll kill yourself in a minimum-wage job and not notice that nobody else is working like this.
“Hardworking and quiet” should be as much of an autism red flag as “ignores rules and doesn’t know when to stop talking”. Or why don’t we just start using words to communicate so i can stop tracking everybody’s eyebrow twitches, that would be great.
Sometimes (though not nearly as often) you get subtypes of this where overcompensating even grows into a special interest. I’m looking at you, autistic actors, psychologists, etiquette experts, interculturalists, anthropologists, sociologists, hospitality gurus, fiction writers, philosophers… All you bemused scholars of humanity.
“Ah, this doesn’t apply to me… after years of intense study, I can reliably read most social cues!”
When you spend all day in a performance where you are so incredibly Normal and Socially Skilled and then collapse into a nonverbal puddle as soon as you get home, that’s an autism.
…
Also. “Not picking up on social cues” is a frame of the situation which looks in from the outside, where “social cues” are a mundane, obvious facet of reality.
As an internal experience, it feels more like: “Most other human beings are weird and unpredictable, especially in groups. They seem to have shared sets of secret rules and nearly imperceptible ways of communicating which lead to erratic, disturbing behavior.”
In addition: if you notice that your ability to parse and respond to social cues suddenly goes to absolute shit when you are tired or distracted… you might be looking at hypervigilant social compensation. like a swan gliding through a pond full of sailboats. sure, you might actually be more maneuverable and faster than the sailboats in some circumstances, but boy howdy are those little feets paddling underneath the surface..
tried to make quinoa for the first time today and it turned out pretty good! AND I realized that one bowl I never use bc it doesn’t have a lid is actually the same diameter as one of my pots so I can use the pot lid on it! sure looks a little whacky but it keeps the goddamn fruit flies out of my salad yeaah boooooooi 😎
like, it’s coming up on the first “anniversary” of something shitty that happened and hurt me very deeply, and for a while I had a pretty hard time believing that better times would come once again, but really there are so many little joys to be found even in the most simple everyday sorts of things. but you HAVE to go looking for them
tried to make quinoa for the first time today and it turned out pretty good! AND I realized that one bowl I never use bc it doesn’t have a lid is actually the same diameter as one of my pots so I can use the pot lid on it! sure looks a little whacky but it keeps the goddamn fruit flies out of my salad yeaah boooooooi 😎
Im at the library and there’s a girl here who’s literally so so gorgeous. how am I supposed to focus on my readings under these conditions. being gay is so hard
According to Know Your Meme, on August 18th, 2005, Erwin Beekveld brought forth this work into the world. HAPPY TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY, THEY’RE TAKING THE HOBBITS TO ISENGARD.
sheds a single tear
every august 18th my notifications break and i go, fuck, tumblr has failed me once again, but it hasn’t. it hasn’t failed me. it’s just the taking the hobbits to isengard-iversary. happy 12 years
a very important holiday amongst my people
FIFTEEN YEARS BABY
HELL YEAH 🤘🤘🤘
Well…….it’s back.
I still love this.
Year 17 of this epicness. I will reblog this every year.
Okay I’ve been simmering on this today but like. We need more representations of fatness and weight gain as signs of healing. So so often in media weight loss is meant to be a sign of becoming healthier or happier and I’m ready to see more of the opposite!
Give me characters who hadn’t had secure access to food in the past having stable food and filling out from finally being able to eat when they’re hungry.
Give me characters who have always felt like they had to adhere to a standard for fear of judgment finally gaining weight as they become more comfortable with themselves and their bodies.
Give me couples getting fatter together because they know they’ll be loved and because life’s too short to worry about dieting and controlling intake all the time.
Give me characters who’ve struggled with disordered eating habits in the past who get progressively chunkier as they recover with the help of people who adore them.
Give me fatness as a sign of comfort. Of health. Of security and recovery and confidence. Give me fatness as a sign of happiness.
was feeling some type of way about some bad shit that happened earlier and I wrote about it in my journal instead of oversharing on tungle dot com. yeah I expect my medal for emotional maturity to arrive in the mail any day now
