I have learned that some people don't believe water has hydrogen in it, and spend upwards of $70-90 buying a water bottle with a pretty blue light.
Because that water bottle...says it will add hydrogen....to the water inside it.
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Cathy Park Hong, from "Spring and All"
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Happy Tu Bishvat (think of it as Jewish Arbor Day)!
Instead of the Zionist practice of planting invasive pine trees, you can sponsor planting of olive trees in Palestine here: https://zatoun.com/product/trees-for-life/
The program is called Trees for Life. You can also sign up for updates from Zatoun for when their olive oil is back in stock!
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wonwoo knows more than anyone that you’re not a morning person; but when he stirs around seven in the morning, your side of the bed is unmistakably empty.
he waits a few moments — maybe you’re just using the bathroom, maybe you’re just getting some water — but when you don’t return, he makes the executive decision to roll out of bed. with only one mission: to make you come back to it.
because goddamn, it’s cold out in the living room. so when he realises the balcony doors are open, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised to see your figure leaning against the rails. and, for the most part, he’s not — the balcony has always been your favourite perch in the apartment, no matter the weather.
speaking of weather, though, as wonwoo comes up behind you, he realises it’s snowing. it’s clearly a recent development, given that the outside hasn’t yet been blanketed in white; it looks more like icing sugar scattered over frosted grass and grey concrete.
“it’s snowing,” you say needlessly, as he slips his arms around you from behind. he notices seol too, curled up by your feet, and briefly wonders why you’re always the favourite. that dog will follow you anywhere.
“it’s freezing,” he corrects at last, muffled into the skin of your neck. “come back to bed.”
you lean back against him, and he doesn’t see your smile, but he can hear it in his voice. “in a minute,” you reassure. “it’s the first snow of the season.”
“and you didn’t wake me so we could watch it together,” he adds, faux offence lying under his words. he doesn’t really mind. no superstition will dictate his future: he’ll spend the rest of his life loving you, and only you, first snow be damned.
“i watched it with seollie,” you say unapologetically. “we didn’t have space for you.”
“i’ve been betrayed,” he returns, as monotonously as possible — there’s a moment of quiet, shared laughter, and then he’s nosing back into your shoulder, kissing you through your sweater and mumbling again. “i think i’m going to freeze.”
“alright,” you concede finally, kissing him sweetly, icy noses bumping, and picking up seollie. “let’s go back to bed.”
(wonwoo thinks, as you try to warm your frigid feet against his under the duvet while he vehemently protests, that he lives for moments like these. quiet and simple, the two of you — or three, counting seol — in a world of your own.)
an / i want it to snow SO BADLY
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