lunarleylines

[lunarleylines]

I will never get tired of how funny it is when people respond to the posts they don't like by turning it into blackout poetry. What sheer fucking splendour, grabbing something you loathe and then turning it into art as an expression of your utter disrespect and disregard of this person's stupid-ass opinions. It's not simply contempt, but an elaborate display of how little it matters to you.

What a way to show that you find this person so beneath your respect that you won't argue their stupid opinions, you won't even gracefully ignore them like you would politely and tactfully turn a blind eye to the embarrassing mishaps of some fool who doesn't know better. No, you choose to turn it into a plaything, making it your arts and crafts material.

The hilarious indignity of having someone pick up something you thought were bold and fine statements, the pinnacle of truth, and saying "this block of stupid text is as worthless as a rock, but allow me to carve it into art, so that it could perhaps be turned into something that possesses worth and beauty."

[lunarleylines]

So I just found the most useful photo album in existence for tumblr arguments

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"It was just a joke!"

Sure. It also wasn't very funny and it bombed. And now you have to deal with that.

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lovely story from a friend today.

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[lunarleylines]

has tumblr heard about the saga of raefarty yet

[lunarleylines]

On Thanksgiving, I witnessed something I think was one of the best parenting moments I’ve ever seen.

I’ve been adopted by my coteacher’s family, and since I have no family around where I live for the holidays, she invites me to her house. I go to birthday parties, soccer games, family events, the whole deal.

Her young son (he just turned 5) was swinging around a toy on a string in circles. She asked him quite a few times to stop because he was too close to people and it could hurt them, but he still continued to do so. While he was swinging it, it smacked her pretty hard in the leg, hard enough to leave a bruise later.

Right away, her husband ordered him to apologize, and with a rather less than sincere voice, he said “sorry.”

She looked at him dead straight and said, “I don’t accept your apology.”

The kid was floored. He just stood there and didn’t know what to do. Her husband asked her why she said that, and she said, “He’s not sorry. He doesn’t know what he did wrong or how to fix it. He just said it because you told him to. So, no, I don’t accept his apology.”

After a few seconds, she walked away. The kid just stood there, confused and not knowing what to do. So, we at the family dinner table, walked him through what happened.

“She asked you to stop so no one would get hurt, and you didn’t listen. And now, someone got hurt.”

“Do you think saying sorry made it stop hurting?”

“Do you feel bad about it?”

“What can we do to fix it?”

And he agreed he should stop swinging around the toy and went to a different room so no one would get hurt. No more forced apology. Just action.

Eventually, about an hour later, he offered a sincere apology to his mom and gave her a hug. Only then did she accept his apology and told him why. Not because he said he was sorry, but because he stopped once he realized what he was doing did hurt someone, and he went on to fix the problem.

So many parents force their kids to apologize, and she’s told me time and time again it always makes her feel uncomfortable because usually the kid doesn’t regret their actions or want to apologize. Parenting isn’t always pretty words and being gentle. Sometimes you have to prepare them for real-life situations, and unconditionally accepting or being understanding of their actions isn’t always the best way to go.

Not only is this teaching him how to genuinely apologize for his behavior and do better, but it also makes him realize words are just words until action is taken. That’s the only way things get fixed.

Is there gray area? Absolutely. Is this always going to work? Absolutely not. But, is it a step in the right direction to teaching children how to genuinely apologize? Most definitely.

[lunarleylines]

[lunarleylines]

girlie that's not a random headache u are dehydrated malnourished over caffeinated over stressed and sleep deprived

[lunarleylines]

Wow. The patience, kindness and calm communication skills. Outstanding.

From raindovemodel

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[lunarleylines]

no no see, domesticity IS hot. how intimate it is to make food with someone, to share a bed, to brush your teeth at the same sink, to shower and use the same towels and the same laundry soap, to grocery shop and hold hands through the aisles, to be cornered in the kitchen to make out while a pot of pasta boils over on the stove. to fall asleep and hear them snoring softly and laugh at the little trail of drool out of the corner of their mouth. to spend money together and share chores and pick on each other for your weird habits. it's not always perfect and beautiful, but it's comfortable and familiar and I just think it's neat.

[lunarleylines]

The thing about ADHD is that the "lack of reward chemicals in your brain" doesn't just mean that you don't want to do any tasks that don't feel particularly yummy :(, it means that your brain will look at chores and tasks that need to be done like "doing this would be painful and tedious for absolutely nothing to gain from it, Do Not Do That." The same thing that your brain tells you about everything else that would feel really bad and hurt the entire time that you're dying. The part of your brain that stops you from doing the thing is the same part that keeps you from shoving your arm into a wood chipper.

With unmedicated, unmanaged ADHD, "I have to do this assignment or I fail and my life will be ruined and I die" feels like a SAW trap, every single time.

[lunarleylines]

[lunarleylines]

everything u need to know about me can actually be explained by the fact that i read that poem about the serving girl wearing the pearls so they're warm for her mistress when i was like 11 and it rewrote my brain chemistry forever

like this Changed Me

[lunarleylines]

I wanted to put it put there that shoe patches are an idea I WANT others to use

Please make shoe patches

I want to see others cool designs and ideas

[lunarleylines]

but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.