ugh downside of leaving your house dust-free for your vacation: the spiders move in. got a big yellow butt in my bathroom right now that made itself comfortable right where my door and doorjamb is so now I have a foot of web. I am now trying to convince it to get out.
really tho straight guys will go on and on about how uncomfortable it makes them when gay guys hit on them but lets be fucking honest how many times have u seen a guy continue to hit on another guy after hes visibly uncomfortable vs. how many times a straight guy has continued to hit on a girl after shes visibly uncomfortable
This needs more notes
Psychological projection at work.
This is actually pretty frickin’ incredible. I love you, NASA.
When you’re teaching vulnerable kids social skills, it’s important to tell the truth.
They need skills for living in the world as it is, not as you would like it to be.
For instance: If you teach them to walk away from bullies, you have to tell them that sometimes bullies will follow them.
If you teach them to tell an adult, you have to teach them that sometimes the adult won’t care, or will take the bully’s side, or will tell them to stop tattling.
If you teach them to say “That hurts my feelings!”, you have to teach them that some bullies will laugh at them.
If you don’t teach kids that, when those things happen, they will think it is their fault. Or they will think that you don’t care. Either way, they’re not likely to be able to come to you for further support.
It’s much better to admit that your answers are imperfect. It’s much better to admit when you don’t know how to help. It’s much better if you can listen.
Sometimes the best thing you can say is “I’m sorry that people are being so mean to you. Do you want to talk about it?”
Jack the Ripper didn’t kill sex workers: he killed women, some of whom sold sex sometimes. Jack killed flower sellers. Jack killed charwomen. He killed mothers, daughters, sisters, and wives. The case files that Ripper historians scrutinise for clues about his identity contain extraordinary details about these women’s ordinary and fascinating lives.
From these files, I learned about their friends, their lovers and their children; their love of drink, their quick tempers, and their favourite songs. I have seen pictures of their dead faces, and read coroners’ reports about the weight of their lungs, livers and hearts. These women are infinitely more interesting to me than the identity of their killer. Finding out about their poverty, their work and their experiences of injustice and inequality is far more important than their killer’s DNA. They are the real story of the Whitechapel murders. It is time for popular history to think more about them, and less about Jack.