I dreamt that Will Arnett was the most Will Arnett-y villain imaginable and that Tina Fey and I were chasing after him. Tina refused to dye her grey hair and kept throwing cornstarch or baby powder on her head to further accentuate the grey. And we captured him on a plane that was about to take off. First class, naturally.
When I was in middle school I went to this Christian summer camp for three years. The first two it was basically hippie camp (that’s why we went: we got to ride horses and rappel and hike and etc and it was great) except we had to memorize two bible verses a night. And they told us wasting food was against god (somehow that wasn’t in the bible verses we memorized). The third year it turned into “WALK ACROSS THIS TINY 2x4 BRIDGE WE’VE THROWN UP IN THE BARN OVER A FIRE TO SHOW YOU’VE BEEN BORN AGAIN AND ACCEPT JESUS CHRIST INTO YOUR HEART” and I was like #nopenopenope and never went back.
That year also the soda vending machine in the main lodge (which was only A QUARTER for a can of soda!) started dispensing multiple sodas - put in a quarter and hit the button of the soda you want. Then hit it again! Hit it as many times as you want and it will keep dispensing soda as long as you only hit the same button over and over. Basically magic for a bunch of repressed kids.
The entire camp got yelled at for being unchristian and stealing soda. And they disconnected the soda machine for the rest of the week.
“When you are in the middle of a story it isn’t a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It’s only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or to someone else.”—Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace
I teach class twice a week uptown (Mondays and Thursday at 6:15! On 86th street on the west side! Please come!) and I have some fantastic private clients (and I will teach you if you message me! I really enjoy the personalized sessions that come out of different clients’ needs. Want to get into crow/tone your core/build arm strength/work on balance? Let’s make that happen.)
So… Whatever happened to being a yoga teacher? I am a yoga teacher. And I love it.
I think reblogs where the only commentary is, “This is important,” are starting to enter the same irritation space occupied by, “If you don’t reblog this, you are a bad person,” and, “THE NEWS ISN’T TALKING ABOUT THIS THING I JUST GOT FROM A NEWS SITE!”
The thing about the friendzone is that it’s unacceptable for a woman to say “well, you know, I’m just not interested in you in that way" but a man can say that a woman is not "his type" and everyone takes it as gospel.