Sometimes I Do Things

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I can almost hear the apathy in his voice.

(Source: chapmanjim)

pagingpage:

legains:

If you could go anywhere in the world right now would it be to a “where” or to a “who”?

I was not prepared for this question

shigaretto:

sailorp00n:

rosydrops:

Cleaning
clean bathroom tips
organize your closet
how to fix a leaky faucet
how to keep a clean kitchen
removing stains from your carpet
Money
how to coupon
what to do when you can’t pay your bills
see if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill
how to save money
How to Balance a Check Book
How to do Your Own Taxes
Health
how to take care of yourself when you’re sick
things to bring to a doctor’s appointment
what to expect from your first gynecologist appointment
how to make a doctor’s appointment
how to pick a health insurance plan
a list of stress relievers
how to get free therapy

how to remove a splinter


how to avoid a hangover

Emergency
what to do if you get pulled over by a cop
a list of hotlines in a crisis
things to keep in your car in case of an emergency

how to do the heimlich maneuver

Food
recipes that take 30 minutes or less
Yummy apple thing
Brownie in a cup
Cookie in a cup
French bread pizza
Egg tacos
panera mac n cheese recipe
different salad recipes
harry potter recipes
healthy recipes
various cookie recipes
chocolate cupcakes w/ eggless cookie dough topping
s’mores pie 
nutella hot chocolate
peanut butter nutella swirl cookies
cookie in a mug
starbucks holiday drinks
fruit leathers 
brownie in a mug
how to make ramen 1000x better
eggless cookie dough (not to bake, just to eat)
make recipes using things you already have
how to put together a very fancy cheese plate 
make different flavored lemonades
various desert recipes
make tiny chocolate chip cookies
20 dishes every cook should know
learn how to make your own tea
Macaroni and cheese in a mug
Study snacks (2)
40 on-the-go breakfast recipes
Home
what the hell is a mortgage?
first apartment essentials checklist
how to care for cacti and succulents
the care and keeping of plants 
Getting an apartment
Job
time management
create a resume
find the right career
how to pick a major

how to avoid a hangover

how to interview for a job

how to stop procrastinating

How to write cover letters
Travel
ULTIMATE PACKING LIST
Traveling for Cheap 
Travel Accessories
The Best Way to Pack a Suitcase
How To Read A Map
How to Apply For A Passport
How to Make A Travel Budget
Better You
read the news
leave your childhood traumas behind
how to quit smoking

how to get a book published


how to knit


how to use a polaroid camera


how to solve a rubik’s cube


how to stop biting your nails


how to stop procrastinating


how to stop skipping breakfast


how to stop micromanaging


how to stop avoiding asking for help


how to stop swearing constantly


how to stop being a pushover

learn another language
how to improve your self-esteem
how to sew
learn how to embroider
how to love yourself
learn how to do yoga
100 tips for life
learn how to make your own cards

I’ve been living on my own for almost 4 years now and I have like 50 tabs open.
Bless the person who put together this post, it ought to be made into a pamphlet for everyone in highschool/college.

omg

shigaretto:

sailorp00n:

rosydrops:

Cleaning

Money

Health

Emergency

Food

Home

Job

Travel

Better You

I’ve been living on my own for almost 4 years now and I have like 50 tabs open.

Bless the person who put together this post, it ought to be made into a pamphlet for everyone in highschool/college.

omg

itseasytoremember:

weallheartonedirection:

This is a concrete floor.

WELL I FOR ONE WOULD MOST LIKELY BREAK SOMETHING BY TRYING TO DIVE INTO THIS FUCKIGN BULLSHIT FLOOR

itseasytoremember:

weallheartonedirection:

This is a concrete floor.

WELL I FOR ONE WOULD MOST LIKELY BREAK SOMETHING BY TRYING TO DIVE INTO THIS FUCKIGN BULLSHIT FLOOR

jaclcfrost:

but if a playground doesn’t have swings is it really even a playground. or is it just. a disappointment

honne-tatemae:

skengggg:

idk what’s more of a turn off: when girls wear beanies or when they tie their hair up with a bandana like a maid

idk what’s more of a turn off: when guys think their personal preference should dictate a female’s choice of clothing or when they act like we should care

(Source: 5keng)

fluent-in-lesbianism:

MY MOM JUST TOLD ME TO CREMATE HER AND PUT HER ASHES IN AN HOUR GLASS SO THAT EVEN AFTER SHE’S DEAD AND GONE SHE CAN CONTINUE TELLING ME HOW MUCH TIME I’M WASTING.

bakrua:

do you ever just discover a new band

and you listen to their song

and you can tell straight away

 and you just sit there in complete silence as your entire soul shifts and your entire being begins to beat intune to the sudden new music and your entire world opens up to all the new emotions that you’re going to discover jjust by listning to another humans voice

haleyscomett-art:

I FOUND IT

NO ONE BELIEVED ME WHEN I SAID I HEARD AN ICE CREAM TRUCK DROPIN BEATS DOWN THE STREET

NOW I HAVE A VID TO PROVE IT OMG I’M SO HAPPY I DIDN’T IMAGINE IT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MAKES ME

So you wish you were Asian.

vampishly:

harmonykilledthehonk:

My parents came to the United States with a suitcase filled with things from their previous lives. They worked two jobs, seven days a week, while studying as full-time students to complete their education. My dad tells me stories about how he waited tables late into the night, while my mom sold shoes at flea markets on her days off to earn spare  cash to buy a car. They built the privilege affirmative action says we have from nothing but hard work.

I was given the gift of being able to be born into a family that defined the American Dream. My parents taught me English and Chinese simultaneously, spent hours reading me stories of Snow White and Cinderella, and the Monkey adventures in Journey to the West. It wasn’t until much later that I realized that they had learned English from memorizing vocabulary cards and reading old textbooks on grammar.

And though my parents taught me English, they ask me to deal with scheduling doctor appointments for them; they ask me to proofread emails for them, out of embarrassment that they feel their English isn’t sufficient to be taken seriously, it sickens me when I realize that while their mastery of the English language is more than proficient, it doesn’t matter, because the rest of the world doesn’t care.

But you wish you were Asian.

I grew up, hearing the words of boys whose only “standard” for the girls they were interested in was “Asian,” realizing that the disgustingly scary fetish of Asian women is actually a reality. I grew up, watching the world’s understanding of my cultural heritage be reduced to ching chong’s and ling long’s, kimonos, and fortune cookies. I grew up, being asked if my parents belonged to the communist party, when I held in me the stories they told me of labor camps they were sent to at the age of 13, of how one day, they couldn’t go to school anymore, of how my grandparents tried desperately later on, long after Mao’s regime ended, to force their children, now adults, to eat copious amounts of food, as if to make up for times when there was nothing to eat.

But you want to be Asian. 

I live in a country that has yet to realize that yellow face is not appropriate on mainstream television, a world that somehow doesn’t realize that statements like, “Kill the Chinese!!” are not acceptable to be aired on talk shows. I live in the 21st century, where the only understanding I can get about the story behind my heritage comes from my own parents, where the only times I can see people who look like me on screen is on Youtube.

I grew up as an Asian American, an individual in a group of people that never really belonged anywhere. Because in the United States, we’re nothing more than descendants of the people who invented orange chicken, and in China, we’re foreigners who fail to adopt the careful nuance of the dialect spoken there. We grew up, holding our ethnicity as something of great pride, and at the same time, of great burden. 

Our representation in the United States government practically is nonexistent. There is no proof that we as a group of human beings existed beyond the pages of Amy Tan novels. The caricatures on television taught us that we were nerds, deficient at English and social skills, bound by our supposed tiger parents to live out their dreams.

And because we apparently don’t exist to the rest of the United States, the inherent racism my “fascinating” ethnicity faces also ceases to exist.

But still. You enjoy your green tea and kungfu movies and paper lanterns. You love your Chinese 1 class and your Japanese Civilizations course and Wang Leehom. And my goodness, what you would give, if only you could be Asian.

This is exactly what I’ve been struggling to put into words, thank you.