Hey

Sorry it's been a while since I last blogged, things have been a little crazy and upsetting lately. My husband's job is on the line because his subordinates keep telling his boss lies cause they're all a bunch of bitches who don't want to have to follow rules or do their work properly, they're feckin' snowflakes (He's sexist cause he doesn't talk with women..... he's the only guy who works there/He's racist..... never has he once made a racist comment/He purposely overrode a timer command to set it to continuous..... he didn't even know that was a thing); my great grandma passed away at the age of 95; my only blood related grandparents and my father told me that A) I was too young to be depressed, and B) My depression isn't real, I just need some vitamin B; my sister-in-laws have gone off the bloody deep end and recently the oldest one turned 18, she was already an idiot but now she's a bratty idiot who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants cause she's an "adult" (first time she pissed me off was literally THE WEEK I had my son via C-section due to complications, I mention the C and she straight up says, "Oh so you didn't actually give birth to Finn". EXCUSE ME BITCH, APOLOGIZE! My husband told his mom that that had upset me and I would like an apology, "She didn't actually mean it, she just says stuff without thinking. IDGAF, APOLOGIZE. Nothing. This latest time was just this last Sunday. She's holding my son, getting in his face, for me to see later that she's coughing and sniffling. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! I HAVE STRICTLY SAID THAT IF YOU ARE SICK YOU DO NOT TOUCH MY SON. IT COULD KILL HIM! And what do I get? "She's been sick for a while but she's on the tail end of it" NO MEANS NO! And that same girl had her fingers in my son's mouth so he could teeth, chipped nail polish on the finger she was using, and she put part of my son's stuffed animal (that he chews on) in her mouth! And this morning I pulled a purple piece of chipped nail polish out of my son's mouth! And he's been puking all day and kinda lethargic! I'M FUCKING LIVID! Hubby tells his mom to that since she can't follow the rules, or care about Finn's safety that she's no longer allowed to touch or hold him (And this isn't the first time she's blatantly ignored what we've said about handling or touching or loving on our son) and his mom says, well she didn't have purple nail polish on. I SAW IT AND I'M THE ONE THAT BOUGHT IT FOR HER FOR CHRISTMAS! And that there's no way my son could be sick like that so soon. And that she doesn't know why I hate her daughter so much right now, because I was picking on her the day we were out at their place....... I BARELY TALKED TO HER THAT DAY, HOW THE FUCK COULD I PICK ON HER?! So now I'm the bad guy because I got upset that the girl has no care or regard about anybody but herself and I'm just trying to protect my son. I'M BEYOND FUCKING DONE! YOU WANNA SEE MY SON? FIRST Y'ALL CAN APOLOGIZE! OTHERWISE THE ONLY WAY YOU'LL SEE HIM IS IF MY HUSBAND TAKES HIM WITH HIM ON A BOY'S TRIP OUT TO Y'ALL'S HOUSE CAUSE I SURE AS HELL AIN'T COMING. MY SON, MY RULES BITCH!

Blog 3

So we had up and moved to Oregon where I didn't know anybody, and to a place that was literally in the mountains; into this tiny little double-wide trailer that the previous owners (who worked with my parents after the move) had completely trashed. I mean there was rodent crap EVERYWHERE and in everything. Nothing looked like it had been cleaned in at LEAST a year. Like literally mold and rust and black gunk on everything. And then in the process of everyone switching living establishments, their 3 year old daughter got up on the counter and started a fire by putting a fork in the microwave! And her parents said she's just a kid it's not a big deal. 🤨😡

School wasn't getting any better after the "popular kids" incident so I just spent my time reading in the back part of the classroom whenever there was free time and even during lunch. My sister wasn't any help cause she was already in 8th grade and in the middle school. By the time I got there, I felt smaller than a baby ladybug.

Started art classes and band and theater which were all great and I actually started to make some friends (or at least I thought they were my friends). I quickly learned that only two of the people in my new circle were truly my friends because the other three called my phone (I'd had it since the last year because I was on the volleyball team) and started name-calling and degrading me and calling me a bitch and a whore...... I was 9 or 10. Into the next grade I made some more bad friends; one was this girl who I thought was really pretty and edgy and one day she comes up and says, "So there's been a lot of talk about whether or not your boobs are actually real, are they?" And she then proceeded to come up to me and squeeze my chest. 😱 Thankfully the principal was on recess duty and saw it. She wasn't ever punished for it though, and by the next day the entire school was talking about it and pointing at me.

Blog 2

So I'm 8 years old and dealing with a whole new world full of needles and pokes and fear. I've developed a legitimate phobia of needles (trypanophobia) because of it. I became a victim to rather crude bullying because of it and so I began to shut out the people around me - without realising it. I leaned on my friends because they were really all I had, and then a few months later my family packed up and moved to Peoria, Arizona. I lost my best friends and became a social outcast. The only person I knew was my cousin, and she set me up to be attacked by the popular kids in class. The two girls were talking and they threw a baseball cap to me and told me to hang onto it. This boy comes over and demands the hat and I said no, cause according to the girls it belonged to one of their girl friends. The boy starts to get mean and to threatens to hit me with his basketball. I told him no and next thing I know is that a hard, sharp pain hits my abdomen, and then I wake up on the pavement with the nurse, gasping for air while the popular girls and my cousin sit there laughing at me. I was constantly picked on for being the weird one who liked to read every book I could get my hands on, and my love for solitude.

Blog 1

I'll start from the beginning. The first hit came when I was 8 years old. It was Valentine's Day and I was getting ready for school. I had just recently recovered from a school wide epidemic of strep, and I was ready to get back. (YES I am an extreme nerd and geek) Anyway, I'm in the shower and my mom pops her head in to ask if I'm ready and I pop my head out to say "Mommy, I'm tired." Next thing I remember is my mom screaming to call 9-1-1 and that I'm not breathing. Get to the hospital and I learn that I'm suddenly a Type 1 Diabetic. My world fell. 8 years old and I suddenly had a lifelong, life-threatening disease and I had no one to turn to about it because I was the only person in my family to be diagnosed with it. Things spiralled from there.

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

roses are red

time lord victorious

raxacorico

fallapatorius

A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, “My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?” The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes about his merry way. Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the same monastery. The monks accept him, feed him, even fix his car. That night, he hears the same strange noise that he had heard years earlier. The next morning, he asks what it is, but the monks reply, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man says, “All right, all right. I’m *dying* to know. If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to become a monk, how do I become a monk?” The monks reply, “You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a monk.” The man sets about his task. Forty-five years later, he returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, “I have traveled the earth and have found what you have asked for. There are 145,236,284,232 blades of grass and 231,281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the earth.” The monks reply, “Congratulations. You are now a monk. We shall now show you the way to the sound.” The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, “The sound is right behind that door.” The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked. He says, “Real funny. May I have the key?” The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man demands the key to the stone door. The monks give him the key, and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He demands another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door is another door, this one made of sapphire. So it went until the man had gone through doors of emerald, silver, topaz, and amethyst. Finally, the monks say, “This is the last key to the last door.” The man is relieved to no end. He unlocks the door, turns the knob, and behind that door he is amazed to find the source of that strange sound. But I can’t tell you what it is because you’re not a monk

reminder to all lesbians

lesbian is not a dirty word

lesbian is not a nsfw word

lesbians are not inherently sexual

lesbians are not pornographic

any sexual thoughts are feelings you have are good and okay and pure and lovely and not at all for male consumption

if you’re ace and sex repulsed you’re also good and okay and pure and lovely okay?

i love you all, you’re all lovely, you’re not dirty or bad i love you

im here for women who’ve survived trauma and come out of the other end furious and spitting blood and im here for women who’ve survived trauma and ended up softer and smaller and less brave and im here for women who refuse to deal with their trauma, who fuck and fight and run, and im here for women in the middle of dealing with their trauma who cry on the floor one day and feel invincible the next im here for any woman who’s experienced trauma. you’re not handling it wrongly. you’re doing your best

Some of My Personal {Favourite} Comebacks

Someone: I like your name. Me: Thanks, it was a birthday present. Someone: Did you cut your hair? Me: No. I dyed the ends invisible. Someone *snarkily when they see me wearing all black*: Whose funeral is it? Me: Don't know. I haven't decided yet.

REBLOG THIS IF YOU THINK TATTOOS SHOULD BE ALLOWED IN WORKPLACES

Trying to prove a point to my ag teacher. Please reblog and your URL will be written in a notebook so I can prove a point

Benny - Little Game

I'm older than Google

Reblog this if you're older than Google.

keepcalmandgosurfing:

geekyninja1:

attend-hogwarts:

grrrbarrowman:

skarosoul:

It scares me that there’s only 1000 reblogs.

It scares me that there’s only 3000 reblogs.

how old is google?

google is 13 today

Idina Menzel - A woman of wisdom

Ah yes, my TimeLady Sister and I. We very need to do that.

casually call people “human” to unsettle them and make them question what sort of being you are

Oh. My. TARDIS. He is... wow. Oh boy. Bow ties... fez.... stetson.... good lord Matt Smith.

Photos taken on the days Matt Smith chose his 11th Doctor costume. Some pretty cool variations before finally deciding “bow-ties are cool”.