To anyone protesting anything, ever
I totally defend your right to do this. Hey you’re pro Palestine or pro Israel or pro Planned Parenthood or anti Abortion- that’s cool. I’m glad you have a voice, and a free one.
But you know what? How about you spend that time at a soup kitchen instead of waving a stupid handmade sign in the air. How about you take those 4 hours and mentor a underprivileged kid? Why not clean up some fucking trash in our parks instead of focusing on your entirely irrelevant protest while your snapping pics to Facebook? No one thinks you’re a good person.
Take the $8 you spent on markers and tshirts and poster board and actually do something which might not instantly gratify yourself but could do a lot of good for the kind of people you claim to support.
I’m taking volunteers for a Habitat trip to Cambodia. It will cost a lot of money, and be uncomfortable and hot and a lot of hard work (much more than standing around holding a sign and occasionally shouting some bullshit) but you would be doing something for another actual human. Think you’re up for it?
I thought not.
Dark shit sorry
When your career in dedicated to covering crime sometimes shit gets heavy. Does the average person know the #1 cause of death in pregnant women is homicide? Well it is. Or that most murdered women, by a very large majority, are killed by someone they know.
I guess it’s obvious I’ve had some troubling stories at work lately. It’s actually hard to resolve when I go home. Why did she trust him? Why didn’t she just get a divorce? Why did she meet up with him? Would I, knowing all I do, act any differently? Probably not.
I look at a lot of happy panda pictures to try to not think about it. But even as I’m browsing happy pandas it seeps in. Could I maybe have helped just one person with my story? Maybe just one woman saw it and got away?
Bao Bao at the National Zoo in Washington D.C. on July 13, 2014.
© Dan Dan The Binary Man.
First time prompting! #leopardsnuggie #therealnewsroom #tv #brr (at CNN)
People are freaking out more about me changing my name on Facebook than they did when I got married.
I really miss film, actual film. I was a photography minor in the early aughts, and we had to shoot on medium and large format cameras, spending endless hours in the dark gently nudging trays of chemicals and precious film, hoping we didn’t destroy our naked photos. It is probably my favorite memory of college- 10 photos nerds in the dark (who were actually pretty hipsterish cuties before hipster was a bad thing) listening to The Drive, contemplating if our prints had been in the developer too long. I had a preference for using too warm water in my developing process (shaking a canister in the dark for an hour) which made the resulting pics overly grainy, like a impressionist painting (which I don’t like, except in photo form apparently). If I’d had my way in life I’d have been a war photographer…..
But then Photoshop happened, and the gentle technique of dark rooms went away, and I suddenly hated it.
I just discovered a roll of film in my old medium format Holga, and googled to see if anyone could still develop it. Because I live in NYC, yes. I have NO CLUE what is on there, but I hope its grainy and long forgotten. When I’m a crazy old person I’m putting a dark room in my senior living home. I should stock up on 120mm film right now.
If you hate your job to the point where you have to complain out-loud, nonstop, every single day, to everyone who will listen: quit.
Seriously, really. You only probably have about 17,000 days left in your life, do you want to spend every one of them in a place you hate so much? You will find something else to do, something that doesn’t drive you to such an extreme place of hatred and annoyance. Go forth, go. Just go.
“Erin Corwin was very excited that her mother was coming out to California to visit for her birthday in mid-July. The young Tennessee native had moved across the country with her Marine …”
– Pregnant marine wife vanishes
wow can’t believe they spelled it all right.
I’d love to not be such a Basic Bitch about this, but I was, and I’m not sorry. And if you’ll admit it you probably are too.
There is only one piece of jewelry that ever really matters in a woman’s life. Her engagement ring. (I had previously been given a few lovely things- a strand of pearls from my millionaire cousins, a silver ring from my high school boyfriend which I loved and promptly lost in a hole in a pipe in a basement [very long story, I got it back two years ago just before the person sold the house], a striking architectural ring from my mother who has excellent taste, a “K” necklace I bought myself at Tiffany when I first visited NYC as an adult) Basically no matter what a woman has been given or inherited in her life, if she’s Kate Fucking Middleton or my BFF from Illinois, the engagement ring is the ultimate. AND YET WE HAVE NO CONTROL OF IT. WHAT?!
how i feel when i watch media people complain on twitter
just saving this here so i can use it again every day
See also: when I hear people waiting in line for brunch say “I am literally starving”
Read about this week’s cover, “Memorial Plaza,” by Adrian Tomine: http://nyr.kr/1iSy1Pf
I love this. I went to the Memorial (and Museum) for the first time with friends last weekend, and this is exactly what it was. Although it didn’t make me mad. Just, it is what it is.
I just broke my toe
I have broken one at the start of the past 3 marathon trainings. So I guess this makes it painfully official