succumblr.

The exclamation I just made - out loud, mouth half full of coffee at 7:30 in the morning - sounded something like, “(gasp!) Fash (gurgle) pan el! Tight! (slurp) Panel!”

ANSWER UHM YEAH!

spangley:

i’m catching up on my zoe report emails & was reminded of these crazy awesome john paul gaultier fishnet panel tights - which i saw kylie minogue sporting when i saw her at the fox in oakland a few weeks ago. both kristen & i were mesmerized by them!

now, do i think that i could pull these off? probably not. and of course, even if i dared try, i’ll have to wait until urban outfitters or the like decides to make an affordable version of them to rock it. they probably make your legs seem super slim b/c of the contrast of the opaque tight vs. the fishnet inset, right? i’m still intrigued - are these fashion forward & rad, or trashy?

These are the apps I own, I own, these are the apps I own. (These are the apps I own, I own, these are the apps I own.)

Apologies for the song now stuck in your head.

Why can’t we give love that one more chance
‘Cause love’s such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance

This is ourselves
Under pressure

My peace and quiet was stolen from me
When I was looking with calm affection
You were searching out my imperfections

What wasted unconditional love
On somebody
Who doesn’t believe in the stuff

— The aptly titled Oh Well by Fiona Apple

I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you

This show is amazing.

I am praying to get over it. Like sincerely praying. Especially because I truly believe in my heart of hearts that being a happy person is the best gift you can give to the world. And I love happy people. I seek them. I dream about being just like them. And as soon as I don’t feel like road kill I will join them.

— I love this woman.

Aforementioned size 6 dress, my happiness excruciating.

Dear ___,

Every time I think of you, I want to cry. Instead, I put on my running shoes.

Thank you for raising my heart rate in a way that isn’t me, on the floor, hyperventilating in despair. I’m just not going to despair anymore, because I am now a size 6.

Love,

SH

When I was in college, my roommate broke up with her boyfriend over the phone, late one Wednesday night. I was asleep and she knocked lightly on my door and asked to come in and she collapsed there in front of me. The sadness just overwhelming and immobilizing. I had never known it then, but I do now.

At the time I didn’t know what to do for her other than to be there, to sit there, to be quiet and calm in the midst of her sobbing and chaos. I knew she needed cleanliness in her soul, so while she laid on her bed catatonic, I took photographs off the wall. I packed up shirts and photo albums. I wrapped up keepsakes in paper towels and put them in a box for her. The next day as she laid there again I spackled tiny holes in the walls where push pins had held up memories, where her future had been declared and glorified. A week later when she got out of bed, I stripped it clean and made it with new sheets. The old sheets, I threw them away for her.

I know that I’m a flawed person, so flawed that sometimes I can’t even acknowledge my own flaws. I know now my roommate needed someone to give her advice, make her feel better, tell her things would be all right and she would move past everything, but I didn’t say that.  At the time I was doing what I thought would help. I was doing my best. I saw a person in need and I did what I thought would make it better for them. I tried.

I suppose I should have said something, anything, who knows. I’m never going to know before I do something wrong, I’ll only know after I’ve damaged things. And when I’m confronted with that damage I get defensive and try to explain and I say “But I was doing my best! I was trying!”

We all fail individually, in our own way. We damage each other in our own way. I hurt people because I communicate my feelings and my love and my trying through acts and things and doing. I fail because even this, I do it poorly.

Being a poor communicator is no way to treat the person you love.

Last night I took photographs off the wall.

I'm going to try

I’m going to take one step. And when that works I’m going to take another step. And if that works, too, I’m going to try and run.

catatonic |ˌkatəˈtänik|

adjective Psychiatry
of, relating to, or characterized by catatonia : catatonic schizophrenia.
• informal of or in an immobile or unresponsive stupor.

Goodbye, little froggie. You brightened my day during a very sad time. I was so excited to watch you swim and float in your tiny aquarium. Your snails kept dying and I didn’t know why, and then one day I saw the other froggie nipping at your feet and realized he was a big bully.

He kept getting bigger and you kept getting smaller. I tried to feed you by hand to make sure you got some pellets to eat and you would look up at me with the saddest little froggie face ever. One day I even took you out of the tank for a while to see if you could swim by yourself but you just stared through the glass to the tank, so I put you back.

Three days later I found you huddled atop the bamboo stick in the tank like you were hiding from the big froggie. Then yesterday you were gone.

I’m sorry the big froggie ate you.

This shithead, too!!! →

Maybe it’s the anti-biotics I’m on for not-swine-flu-but-like-swine-flu, or the lingering earache, or the orange color I am having a hard time focusing on, but I think Mallory from Family Ties just called my friends shitheads! OMG guys! She knows who you are!!

FWIW, this is a bonehead idea, which I’m guessing is what happens when you hire all your friends to work at your company instead of hiring other qualified individuals to make these sorts of decisions.

tanya77:

spiers:

tanya77:

http://twitter.com/Gruber

He got the same letter.

UPDATE: The human waste just keeps on coming. Here’s another one: http://theryanking.com/. And another.

I don’t really get what’s happening here. Are people suddenly able to clog your Twitter feed without any conscious following on your part? Or is it just the Twitterberry app? I’d ask Tanya77 directly but there are no DM options on Tumblr. (Suggestion! DM options!)

Here’s Andrea Rosen’s explaination. I think this “new feature” BLOWS.