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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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It Was Easier to Give in Than Keep Running

By Anonymous

In first grade, a boy named John— a notorious troublemaker—systematically chased every girl in our class during recess trying to kiss her on the lips. Most gave in eventually. It was easier to give in than keep running. When it was my turn, I turned and faced him, grabbed his glasses off his weasel face, and stomped on them on the hard blacktop. He ran to the principal’s office and cried.

In fifth grade, I was asked to be a boy’s girlfriend over email. It was the first email I ever received. He actually told me he wanted to send me an email, so I went home and made an AOL account. We went to a carnival and he won me a Garfield stuffed animal, and then he gave me a 3 Doors Down CD. A few days later, he broke up with me, and asked for Garfield and the CD back. I said no.

In sixth grade, a girl in my year gave head to an eighth grader in the back of the school bus while playing Truth or Dare.

In the summer after sixth grade, I kissed a boy for the first time at sleep away camp. He was my summer love. During the end-of-the-summer dining hall announcements, where kids usually announced lost sweatshirts and Walkmen, an older girl stepped up to the microphone, tossed her hair behind her shoulders, and proudly stated, “I lost something very precious to me last night. My virginity. If anyone finds it, please let me know.” The dining hall erupted into laughter and cheers. She was barred from ever coming back to the camp again, and wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to anyone.

In seventh grade, I told my brother I decided when I was older wanted a Hummer. What I really meant was I wanted a Jeep, but I didn’t know a lot about cars. My mother overheard and screamed at me for “wanting a Hummer.”

In the summer after freshman year of high school, I went to sleepaway field hockey camp with many of my close friends. One of them, named Megan, I had been friends with since kindergarten. One night when I was showering, she ripped open the curtain and snapped a photo of me on her disposable camera. I screamed. She laughed. We both laughed when I got out of the shower a few minutes later. After camp was over, her father took the camera to the convenience store to get it developed. When he gave the finished photos back to her, he said, “Your friend [Anonymous] has grown up.”

Sophomore year of high school, one of my best friends Hilary had a party in her basement while her mom was away. We invited some of the guys in our grade and someone’s older brother bought us a handle of vodka. One of the boys who came sat next to me in Spanish class. His name was Thomas. I remember playing a simple game, where we passed the bottle of vodka around in a circle and drank. I remember being happily tipsy and having fun, to suddenly being very drunk. Thomas and I started chanting numbers in Spanish, and he leaned towards me and kissed me. We kissed in the middle of the party, with all of our friends cheering. Then we went into Hilary’s bedroom.

Hilary’s bedroom was in the basement, on the ground floor, with a large window next to her bed. When someone went outside to smoke a cigarette, they realized it was a front row seat to what was happening in the bedroom. It was dark outside, and the light on was in the bedroom. They called everyone outside to watch. I don’t remember getting undressed, but apparently we were both completely naked in Hilary’s bed. A friend of mine told me later she tried to open the door and stop what was happening, but Thomas must have locked it. They said they pounded on the door. I don’t remember hearing them pounding. I don’t remember seeing everyone’s faces outside the window. I remember Thomas holding my head down, and shoving his penis into my mouth. I remember trying to resist, pulling back, but he held his hands firmly on my head, pushing my face up and down. That’s all that I remember.

The next day, my friends and I went out to dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. I couldn’t eat anything, and it wasn’t because I was hung over. Every time I tried to put food in my mouth, I felt like I was choking. Anytime a flash of the night before appeared in my mind, I felt like vomiting. My friends sat with me in silence. Then they told me a girl named Lindsey, who had briefly dated Thomas freshman year, had stood outside and watched the entire time. Even after everyone else stopped watching. My friends said they didn’t watch.

On Monday, Thomas and I sat next to each other in Spanish. We didn’t speak. We didn’t make eye contact. I went to the girls bathroom and threw up. I hear Lindsey and Thomas live together, now, ten years later.

Junior year of high school, my teacher for Honors Spanish was named Señor Gonzales. Señor Gonzales had all of the girls sit in the front row. Señor Gonzales called on any girl who was wearing a skirt to write on the chalkboard. Señor Gonzales asked a friend of mine, who had broken her finger playing an after school sport, if she broke her finger because “she liked it rough.” Señor Gonzales was a tenured teacher.

Senior year of high school, I got my first real boyfriend. His name was Colin. He was on the lacrosse team with Thomas. He told me that sophomore year, Thomas told everyone on the team what happened that night at Hilary’s. Everyone cheered. Colin said that, even then, he had a crush on me. Even then, he wanted to punch Thomas.

Colin and I lost our virginities to each other. Colin said if I got pregnant, he would make me have the baby. He didn’t believe in abortion. Colin said if I got pregnant, he would make me have a C-section. Colin said that if I didn’t have a C-section, my vagina would be too loose for him to ever enjoy having sex with me again. Colin said that he wouldn’t let our child breastfeed. He said his mother gave him formula, and that he turned out just fine. I didn’t get pregnant.

Junior year of college, I lived in Denmark for the spring semester and studied at the University of Copenhagen. Copenhagen is one of the safest cities in the world. Guns are illegal there. Pepper spray is illegal there. One night, my friends and I went to a concert at a crowded club in a part of the city I didn’t know very well. I brought a tiny purse with money, my apartment key, and my international cell phone. For some reason it made sense at the time to put my purse inside my friend’s purse. Maybe I didn’t feel like carrying it. We were both drinking. My friend left the concert to go home with her boyfriend. One by one, everyone I was there with left the concert, until I was suddenly alone and I realized I didn’t have my purse, or any money for a cab ride home.

I started walking in the direction that felt right. I walked for a long time. I had no idea where I was, and didn’t recognize the area. It was almost 4 am. I was on a residential street when a cab pulled up next to me. I asked the driver if he could drive me to an intersection down the street from my apartment.

I don’t have any money, I said.

I really need your help, I said.

I will do it for free, he said.

Sit in the front, he said.

I sat in the front. We drove in silence for some time, until he pulled over on the side of a dark street.

I don’t want to do it for free anymore, he said.

He locked the car doors and reached across the center console and slipped his hand up my skirt. He grabbed my vagina. Hard. I pushed his hand away and unlocked the door. I ran down the street and realized he had taken me a block away from the intersection I wanted. I walked to my apartment and threw rocks at my roommate’s window until she let me inside. She yelled at me for waking her up. I escaped. Nothing happened. I was fine.

The summer after I graduated college I helped Hilary find an internship. She was an art major and wanted something for her resume besides waitressing. We found a posting on Craigslist to be a studio assistant for a painter in the Bronx. It was listed as an unpaid internship. The toll for the George Washington Bridge was twelve dollars, plus gas, but she got the internship anyway. She wanted the experience.

The artist was a 38-year-old Canadian painter named Bradley. Hilary was 22.There was another intern there, an art student from Manhattan named Stella. Bradley needed assistants to help him make bubble wrap paintings. Stella and Hilary would take a syringe and fill the tiny bubbles with different color paints until it formed a mosaic. Bradley always had Hilary stay after Stella left to clean the paintbrushes and syringes. He told Hilary she was beautiful. More beautiful than his wife, who he only married for citizenship. He told Hilary they had a loveless marriage. He told Hilary he wanted to have her beautiful children. They began an affair. He told Hilary has wife knew and didn’t care. He told Hilary he was going to leave his wife soon.

Everyday Hilary drove to the Bronx, cleaned Bradley’s paintbrushes, and had sex on the studio floor. Everyday she went home with no money, and everyday she paid the toll at the George Washington Bridge. She needed the internship for her resume, she said. It was too late to find a new job, she said.

I could go on. I could tell you a lot more. About the whistles on the sidewalk, the kids who sat at the bottom of the stairs in high school to look up our skirts, my friend who was a prostitute in South Carolina, the men who’ve cornered me in parking lots and bars calling me a tease, the unwanted grabbing on the subway, the many times my father has called me fat, the time I traveled to the Philippines and discovered Western men pay preteen locals to spend the week in their hotel, the messages on OKCupid asking to “fart in my mouth.” About how I wasn’t sure if I had been raped because I was drunk and kissed Thomas back. How he raped my mouth and not my vagina, so that must not be rape. How easy it was for me to escape the dark street in Copenhagen, and how that made it not matter since “it could’ve been worse.”

Men have no idea what it takes to be a woman. To grin and bear it and persevere. The constant state of war, navigating the relentless obstacle course of testosterone and misogyny, where they think we are property to be owned and plowed. But we’re not. We are people, just like them. Equals, in fact, or at least that’s the core of what feminism is still trying to achieve. The job is not over. We’ve made great progress. There are female CEOs, though not very many. There are females writing for the New York Times and winning Pulitzer prizes, though not very many. There are female politicians, though not very many. But these advances are only on paper. The job won’t be over until equality permeates the air we breathe, the streets we walk and the homes we live in.

I think back to how easy it was for me, in first grade, to feel fearless and strong in my conviction to stomp on John’s glasses. I felt right in reacting how I did, because John’s behavior was wrong. But his was an elementary learning of the wide boundaries his gender would go on to afford him. For me, it would never again be so easy.

- Anonymous, age 25

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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How to get out stains using other things

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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Chance the Rappers helps get sleeping bag coats to the homeless

The project, called Warmest Winter, comes from a recent partnership between the rapper and Detroit nonprofit the Empowerment Plan. The initiative aims to bring the coats to Chicago by asking donors to help support the manufacturing of the coats. Each coat costs $100 to “sponsor.” The incredible progress they’ve already made will warm your heart.

Follow @stylemic

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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Who else is spending New Years at home in bed??

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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Step 1: Go someplace public with your laptop.

Step 2: Click HERE

Step 3: Press f11

Step 4: Start typing frantically.

Step 5: Make sure other people see your screen.

Step 6: ???????

Step 7: Profit

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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I’ve seen a lot of curious people wanting to dive into classical music but don’t know where to start, so I have written out a list of pieces to listen to depending on mood. I’ve only put out a few, but please add more if you want to. hope this helps y’all out. :)

stereotypical delightful classical music:

battalia a 10 in d major (biber)

brandenburg concerto no. 5

brandenburg concerto no. 3

symphony no. 45 - “farewell” (haydn)

if you need to chill:

rondo alla turca

fur elise

anitra’s dance

in the steppes of central asia (borodin) (added by viola-ology)

if you need to sleep:

moonlight sonata

swan lake

corral nocturne

if you need to wake up:

morning mood

summer (from the four seasons)

buckaroo holiday (if you’ve played this in orch you might end up screaming instead of waking up joyfully)

if you are feeling very proud:

pomp and circumstance

symphony no. 9 (beethoven; this is where ode to joy came from)

1812 overture

symphony no. 5, finale (tchaikovsky) (added by viola-ology)

american (dvořák)

if you feel really excited:

hoedown (copland)

bacchanale

spring (from the four seasons) (be careful, if you listen to this too much you’ll start hating it)

la gazza ladra

death and the maiden (schubert)

if you are angry and you want to take a baseball bat and start hitting a bush:

dance of the knights (from the romeo and juliet suite by prokofiev)

winter, mvt. 1 (from the four seasons)

symphony no. 10 mvt. 2 (shostakovich)

symphony no. 5 (beethoven)

totentanz (liszt)

quartet no. 8, mvt. 2 (shostakovich) (added by viola-ology)

young person’s guide to the orchestra, fugue (britten) (added by iwillsavemyworld)

if you want to cry for a really long time:

fantasia based on russian themes (rimsky-korsakov)

adagio for strings (barber)

violin concerto in e minor (mendelssohn)

aase’s death

andante festivo

if you want to feel like you’re on an adventure:

an american in paris (gershwin)

if you want chills:

danse macabre

russian easter overture

if you want to study:

eine kleine nachtmusik

bolero (ravel)

serenade for strings (elgar)

scheherazade (rimsky-korsakov) (added by viola-ology)

pines of rome, mvt. 4 (resphigi) (added by viola-ology)

if you really want to dance:

capriccio espagnol (rimsky-korsakov)

blue danube

le cid (massenet) (added by viola-ology)

radetzky march

if you want to start bouncing in your chair:

hopak (mussorgsky)

les toreadors (from carmen suite no.1)

if you’re about to pass out and you need energy:

hungarian dance no. 1

hungarian dance no. 5

if you want to hear suspense within music:

firebird

in the hall of the mountain king

ride of the valkyries

night on bald mountain (mussorgsky) (added by viola-ology)

if you want a jazzy/classical feel:

rhapsody in blue

if you want to feel emotional with no explanation:

introduction and rondo capriccioso

unfinished symphony (schubert)

symphony no. 7, allegretto (beethoven) (added by viola-ology)

canon in d (pachelbel)

if you want to sit back and have a nice cup of tea:

st. paul’s suite

concerto for two violins (vivaldi)

l’arlésienne suite

pieces that don’t really have a valid explanation:

symphony no. 40 (mozart)

cello suite no. 1 (bach)

polovtsian dances

enigma variations (elgar) (added by viola-ology)

perpetuum mobile

pieces that just sound really cool:

scherzo tarantelle

dance of the goblins

caprice no. 24 (paganini)

new world symphony, allegro con fuoco (dvorak) (added by viola-ology)

if you feel like listening to concertos all day (I do not recommend doing that):

concerto for two violins (bach)

concerto for two violins (vivaldi)

violin concerto in a minor (vivaldi)

violin concerto (tchaikovsky) (added by iwillsavemyworld)

cello concerto in c (haydn)

piano concerto, mvt. 1 (pierne) (added by iwillsavemyworld)

harp concerto in E-flat major, mvt. 1 (added by iwillsavemyworld)

and if you really just hate classical music in general:

4′33″ (cage)

a lot of these pieces apply in multiple categories, but I sorted them by which I think they match the most. have fun exploring classical music!

also, thank you to viola-ology and iwillsavemyworld for adding on! if you would like to add on your own suggestions, please reblog and add on or message me so I can give you credit for the suggestion!

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snowborn-wonderer · 8 years

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Going to use these in the coming days!!!

How to Pack for a 2-Week Trip in a Carry-On

Checking bags is for the birds.

If you’re going on a long trip, the last thing you want is to have to haul huge amounts of luggage everywhere you go – especially if you travel at the pace I do, packing up and moving on every 2-3 days. And every time you check your bag, you risk losing it, having items stolen, or making it harder for yourself to switch flights or airlines at the last minute if you need to. At the same time, most of my international trips last at least 2 weeks, usually a bit longer (like 17 days). 17 days of clothing in one little carry on? It’s a challenge, but it’s worth the effort. There are some basic principles to follow along with handy tips and tools to making it all fit.

Here’s how I do it:

Packing cubes. I have no idea how I’ve ever survived travel without packing cubes. All of your items disorganized and shifting around in one space is a disaster to deal with, both at security if your luggage is inspected, and on the road once some of those clothes are dirtied. Packing cubes are offered by a few different brands, but I’ve found eBags to be the best value. I have and love the 3-piece set with the small, medium, and large cubes, as these fit perfectly together in my carry on. They’re sturdy too, having successfully withstood several long trips.

Roll your clothing. Rolled-up tubes of clothing fit much more neatly and compactly into luggage than flat, folded clothing. Roll most of your items individually with the exception of shirts and underwear, which can usually be rolled a few together at a time. Secure them with rubber bands to keep them from unrolling. An added bonus of packing this way is that rolled clothing tends to wrinkle less than flat clothing. This method also makes it very easy during your trip to quickly tell which articles of clothing are still clean versus which ones have been worn. Click here for more tips on rolling your clothing.

Bring less. This is admittedly usually a little more difficult for women than it is for men, and it involves choosing your outfits very, very wisely. I’ve found that I always have a favorite few outfits I tend to recycle over and over each few months, even at home, so I bring those and not much else.

My everyday personal style usually revolves around neutral colors (like black) paired with colorful accessories, like scarves. This is your best bet on the road, so select versatile, basic, go-with-anything colors and styles that pair well with a variety of other outfits. For a pop of style or color, pack a lightweight scarf or two.

Few things are more bulky in luggage than shoes, so try to take 2 pairs at most. I tend to plan my outfits around black versus brown shoes and purses (black purse=black shoes, brown purse=brown shoes), and it pays to choose just one of those options rather than trying to bring both. Oh, and make them comfortable. Take it from someone who’s struggled with this: if you don’t wear sneakers or casual-athletic style shoes with your everyday outfits, it’s time to get comfortable with that. It rarely matters where you’re going, you’re going to be walking. A lot. For most trips, at least during the day while you’re doing the most sightseeing, comfortable shoes are the only option. I have these Asics in both black and brown and though they don’t get much use stateside, they’re my traveling go-to’s.

Pack only 1-2 pairs of pants. These can usually be re-worn a few times before they need a wash, so you’ll get more longevity from pants than you will shirts. 1 pair of comfortable jeans and 1 pair of black pants should do it. I usually bring a long maxi skirt as well, but those don’t tend to take up as much room.

Casual dresses are a traveling girl’s best friend. Why? It’s an entire outfit in one simple garment. Choose lightweight, breezy fabrics that are opaque enough that you won’t need a slip, which would negate the whole point.

Wear your bulkiest items when you travel. If I want to bring a pair of boots on a trip, I’ll be sure to plan my outfits so I’m always wearing them on travel days, leaving more room in my luggage.

And remember, if you’re feeling iffy on an item and think you might need it but aren’t sure, leave it. A good rule of thumb: lay out everything you think you’ll need and take only HALF. Be very conscious of the fact that nothing will ever fit back in the way you originally pack it – this is the ongoing game of luggage Tetris that you’ll never win, so plan ahead by leaving room. Plus, you’re going to need room in your luggage for any shopping you might do, too – one more reason to NOT fill that suitcase to the brim! Click here for VIDEO tips on figuring out what to pack. Bring snacks. To fill the gaps in both your luggage and your meals during a trip, pack a few protein bars in your suitcase. As you eat them, you’re creating more space.

Do laundry. You’re going to be washing your clothing at least once during a trip like this - there’s no getting around it. If you’re staying in budget accommodations that don’t offer laundry services, all you need is a clean sink and a few travel-size packets of laundry detergent. I bought this 20-pack of Woolite for $8 a few years ago and still haven’t gone through all of it. You can also buy travel clotheslines, but I prefer to just bring some rope – or nothing at all. I don’t usually have much trouble finding places (like towel and shower curtain rods) in hotel and private hostel rooms to drape clothing over as it dries.

If you pack smart and plan ahead, you can still fit a wide range of outfit options in a single carry on bag. The freedom and flexibility this buys you is priceless. Few things make you look as hapless and touristy while abroad as hauling a ton of luggage. And while the rest of your fellow passengers wait idly by the luggage carousel, some half-fearing their bags won’t even show up, you’re already out the door and on your way to your exciting destination. One thing’s for sure - you’re not likely to make the mistake of overpacking twice. –

Let me come to you! Subscribe by email to get more articles like these delivered straight to your inbox: http://travelpaintrepeat.com/subscribe

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